Last night was fun,but it’s time we go back to being professional.
Ugh. That isn’t any better. I mentally shake my head because it hurts too much to move it physically. Can’t think of anythingthat could salvage what happened last night. Should I just ignore him? But if I do, he might murder me. Or worse, fire me.
I press the heels of my hands against my throbbing temples.Unemployed is much worse than being dead?Another sign I’m not thinking straight.
I look at the screen, then let out a soft breath of relief.
–Gabriella: Is Rhys not going to accompany me? I need to know. Also, if he’s going to be irresponsible, I can’t be with him. Tell him I’m dumping him, and if anybody asks, he better back up my story because nobody gets to dump me.
Although I’m grateful the text isn’t from Rhys, her ludicrous self-centeredness is annoying. Her situation slipped my mind, since I actually have a job and don’t have time to find a date for entitled supermodels. And if she thinks I’m going to text Rhys that he’s being dumped, she’s delusional. She can tell him herself, although it probably won’t end the way she expects.
I sigh, my shoulders slumping until they’re almost touching my knees. If somebody like Gabriella isn’t good enough for Rhys, where does that leaveme? Gutter-rat level? Good enough to fuck but not date?
Actually, forget that—he isn’t the type of man you date anyway. I prop my head in a hand. What if he decides to fire me? What if he wants to do itagain?
How can you be so confident? Just because it was good for you doesn’t mean it was good for him… a voice that sounds just like Jeffrey taunts me.
I scowl. Just then, my head aches so hard, my vision goes white for a moment.
Stop torturing yourself.Get home first,then figure it out.
When I reach the airport, I pay the fare and—throbbing skull or no—jump out before the driver can give me change or even open the door. Apparently, you shouldn’t open the door yourselfin Japan, but this is an emergency. What if the minutes waiting for the driver cost me the earliest flight home? Can’t have that.
The international terminal is starting to come alive with morning travelers. A larger crowd than I expected mills about the terminal. Several huge banners promoting the international expo hang from the ceiling.
My blood boils as bitterness fills my mouth. Guess Jeffrey’s enjoying it with his new girl. I should’ve done more than just dump him, although what that “more” would be…I can’t say. But it’s all his fault that my life is out of control now.Fucker. If he was going to cheat, he should’ve at least done it somewhere away from my boss and Trevor! That way the aftermath would’ve been much more dignified. And I wouldn’t be freaking out about my job security!
I take a deep breath and try to shove aside the bubbling fury in my chest.Forget the worthless scum.Focus on yourself.
Okay, into problem-solving mode. I make a mental list of things to do: go home, recover, come up with a game plan to convince Rhys not to fire me. But just in case, get my résumé ready. Or maybe I should just hug Ailee and cry. But first things first—I can’t do anything until I’m back in L.A.
So, when is the next flight? I dash to the first information counter I spot. “Hi. I need to get to LAX. When is the next available flight?”
The sharply dressed woman stares at me like I’ve just rolled around in a pile of cow poop. And honestly, I kind offeellike that, too. My God, it just hits me that I’m not even wearing panties. No wonder I’ve been plagued by an extra dollop of vulnerability.Great,just great. Shifting around, I paste on my most professional smile that says I’m most definitely wearing all items of underwear.
“Let me check.” She taps on her computer, then jots down something on a piece of paper and hands it to me. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” I take the paper and run as quickly as I can.I’m getting out of here.I’m heading home so I can put on my panties and regroup.
I grab one of the few remaining economy seats and board two hours later after running through security and immigration. The airline puts me next to a lavatory, but I don’t care. I just want the plane to take off. And then go home. A good night’s sleep in my own bed should—
Can’t.
I don’t have a home.
It burned down.
My shoulders round under the sudden weight of everything. I bury my face in my hands as tears gather in my eyes. How could my life have spiraled out of control so fast? I did everything right. Well, except for sleeping with my boss, but surely that isn’t the kind of mistake that completely ruins your life, is it?
I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my teeth to control my emotions. I’mnothaving a breakdown in public. Given my luck, it’ll go viral, and if Rhys doesn’t fire me, Kaitlyn will.
Mom’s bucket list, the one I found after the funeral, said that she wanted to see me fulfilled and happy because every woman deserves love and joy. She feared I might shun the whole idea of love after witnessing what happened between her and Trevor.
And I workedhard, so she could see me find a soul mate and live happily ever after with a good career and financial stability. But now—
“Damn it,” I mutter. I jam my forehead against my fist. Damn Jeffrey. Damn my lack of impulse control last night. Should’ve stayed strong, had better sense and not screwed Rhys’s brains out—even if hewasamazing…
Now I’m out of love and probably out a stable job and nice salary as well. Talk about screwing myself over. If Mom were here now, she’d just pat my back, like she always did whenshe knew I’d messed up and needed some silent support. I was usually already doing a great job beating myself up.
