I stared at the card, heat rising in my face as the chill of disbelief made everything below my neck feel numb.
He couldn’t close the deal with Beau. He lost. And now, I was the collateral damage.
He was firing me. This was a termination letter. On three-hundred-dollar stationery.
I’m going to throw up. Or pass out. Maybe I’ll do both, one right after the other.
I’d been so guided by loyalty—to my job, to Simon—I hadn’tstopped to consider the possibility that Simon could suddenly be disloyal to me. I fooled myself into believing I was safe.
Eyes closed. Feetfirst. Straight into a garbage truck.
I’d allowed myself the indulgence of sleeping with Simon—not just because I liked him, but because he made me feel untouchable. Like the rules didn’t apply. Like I had power, even when I didn’t. I think I also liked how easy it was to fall into bed with him at the end of a long day and then leave in the morning without having to do any of the emotional work that comes with dating. We never had to stare into each other’s eyes and bare our darkest wounds. There were no expectations and no complications. Just work and sex. Until now, that is.
Because I understood that in addition to the firing, I was being dumped.
This just in: Girl who would do anything to realize her dream has overplayed her hand.
I should have known better than to expect I could put any of this back. I couldn’t control what got lost. All I could control was my reaction.
And I chose rage.
“You wish me well?” I repeated to my empty office, bile rising in my throat.
“Hey, Este.” James was standing in my doorway. Judging from the typical blank look on his face, he didn’t know about my unceremonious exit from the company. Which might actually have been worse. It meant that sometime today the board was going to send some email about my departure.
I have to get the fuck out of here.
“Shut up, James,” I said.
His face twisted in disbelief.
“I don’t want to hear one more loud, protracted story. I don’t work here anymore. I’ve got my envelope and my ‘fly birdie fly’ note. So I’ll see you around.”
“What are you talking about?” James looked at me, gobsmacked.
I swiped the card off the desk, not bothering to pack up a thing in my office as I walked out. I didn’t want anything else. Ihad been fired by the person I revered. And he didn’t have the guts to tell me to my face.
Radiating an otherworldly anger, I blew past a blinking James without saying another word.
He’s someone else’s problem now.
But as I raced out of the back door and into the parking lot, the self-recriminations started to creep in.
I slept with my boss. What did I think was going to happen? Did I think I was going to change him? No.
But I thought we were one and the same—people who were more committed to work than romance. I thought we’d both be quasi-single forever. I had bet on our mutual cynicism.
I am the dumbest girl who has ever girled.
This thought shot a fresh dose of rage through me. By the time I got to my car, I was vibrating with anger. My cheeks were hot and the pressure between my ears threatened to melt my brain.
Is that possible? Can a person be so angry their brain dissolves?
When my phone rang, I didn’t look at the caller ID on my car dash. Just let the Bluetooth pick it up as I pulled out of the office parking lot.
“Yeah?” I said with so much fury that I was surprised the caller didn’t hang up.
“Este? It’s Beau Walker.”
