I added an extra waver to my voice. “About yesterday . . .”
His nostrils flared, and I watched the light go off in his head. “That video is undeniable proof that you’re completely unsuitable for this line of work. I’ll be adding it to my counter complaints to send to HR.”
I reached toward him. “Oh, please. Don’t.” I worried I might have veered into melodrama. “I swear I wasn’t drunk. I hadn’t eaten in hours, and I went into hypoglycemic shock.”
He hesitated. He’d already gone on public record accusing me of intoxication. He’d have to retract the story if he chose to believe me. His tongue ran across the front of his teeth. He stepped to the door. “Derek, get your ass in here.”
I craned my neck and saw Derek shoving back a Styrofoam box of street meat. He hopped up, wiping his lips with a napkin, and entered Andy’s office. “What’s up? Oh, hi, Josie.” Just like that, as if he hadn’t stood by and filmed me slipping into a coma.
Andy didn’t mince words. “Derek, you said Jo was drunk last night when you saw her. She claims she was in some kind of shock.”
“Hypoglycemic shock,” I offered helpfully.
Derek scoffed. “You saw the video. She was tanked, staggering all over the sidewalk. Classic drunk.”
“Thanks, Derek. You can go.”
Andy wiped the spittle off his lips with the back of his hand. “Look. You were upset. You mistook a media slut’s interest in you as something real. It could happen to anyone.” He chuckled. “Well, not really, but you’re about the most naïve journalist I’ve had the misfortune to hire.”
“You’re right. I—” I couldn’t deny that, not out loud anyway. Not if I wanted him to believe Micah had dumped me.
“So you got a little drunk and threw yourself at him. It’s embarrassing. I can understand why you’d want to play it off as some kind of illness.”
“Andy, I wasn’t drunk.”
His eyes lit up with glee. “I hope you felt humiliated seeing it all over the Internet. I sure did enjoy it.” His lips curled into a nasty sneer. “You never should have crossed me, Jo.”
I couldn’t stand to look at his face another second, so I pushed him to act. “What are you going to do, Andy?”
“I’m going to fire your ass.” He smiled, though on anyone else, one might call that expression a frown. “Now, get out of my office.”
I fought my own expression of joy as I walked out of that snake pit for good. I covered my mouth as though hiding my tears. It was the only way I could keep from laughing.
Zion asked, “Is everything okay, Jo?”
Derek looked up from his pile of lamb strips with pieces of rice adhering to his chin.
I sniffed. “Andy just fired me. This has been the worst goddamn twenty-four hours of my life.”
“Oh, man. Do you need me to do anything to help you?”
“No. I suppose I’ll be all right.” I started toward the door, but stopped. As if I had an afterthought, I produced the wedding invitation from my pocketbook and dropped it on Zion’s desk. “This came in the mail yesterday. I’ve been carrying it around, wishing Micah might take me back.” I wiped imaginary tears from my dry eyes. “But there’s no way I’m going to go—not after everything. Maybe you could take my place. If you can figure out where it is, take lots of pictures and publish them everywhere.”
“Is that what I think it is?” He hadn’t made use of his acting skills since we’d performed in an off-campus production ofJesus Christ Superstar,but this job didn’t require thespian chops. And he was killing it.
I dropped my face into my hands. “I can’t fucking believe this is happening.” I’d like to thank the Academy . . .
Zion jumped off his stool and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Let me at least walk you down and help you get a cab.”
We walked down to the elevator together and both climbed in. When the doors closed, I asked, “Do you think he’ll take the bait?”
Zion snickered. “We’ll know soon enough. I left my web cam running.”
I got out of the elevator on the second floor and hugged Zion. “Sorry to leave you here to deal with this shit. I’ll see you at home later.”
And then I walked away from that festering soul suck. I stretched my legs and stood a little taller. I’d done my part. Now I could only wait and see. And hope everyone else lived up to their end of the plan.
We couldn’t meet at Micah’s or Eden’s because they were so often under surveillance, and I still had a few reporters following me home. So we texted or talked on the phone. But we only did the latter when we were sure nobody could overhear us.
