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And even lighter than that when I stomped up the stairs of the subway exit and tucked myself against the side of a nearby bodega to check my phone. The time was 5:05 on the same day, which meant that unfortunately my train hadn’t entered a wormhole and come out into tomorrow. That would’ve been nice. But also waiting for me were a hundred DMs. I didn’t have time to read them all in detail, but I skimmed through them, my heart growing warmer and warmer the more my finger flicked. A few trolls had slipped in, but probably ninety-seven of them were supportive and encouraging and kind.

Girl, my partner and I broke up while we were at the resort for her sister’s three-day destination wedding, and I had to go as her plus-one the next day and make nice with all her family knowing she didn’t love me.

Hey Julie, no specific advice, but just wanted to say that you’re amazing and following your posts has made living in NYC so much better!!

I had an army on my side. And knowing that so many people were following me, so many good and kind people, was enough to make me lift my chin high and square my shoulders.

Emerson Leigh was holding her party at her sister’s boutique, both downstairs and upstairs in the private event space. I wound my way through the tables of loofahs and held my breath as I passed the perfumes. I took shaky breath after shaky breath, trying to push down the wave of nausea swelling up my throat. You can do this, Julie. You can do this.

Eventually, I had to stop procrastinating. The second-floor event space, where I assumed stock usually waited, had been set up for a party, small round tables with cheerful pastel tablecloths littered throughout, a low platform with a podium set up on one end. Otherwise, it was empty. Of people. As in, I was the only person there. I took a few steps in, looking around. Maybe everybody had forgotten and I’d get to go home.

“There you are, finally!”

I jumped at the sound of a familiar voice. “Maisie?” I said, turning. Mr. Decker’s elder daughter looked a lot like her younger sister, but the similarities ended there. Maisie had never been all that nice to me. Once, when she’d stopped in at the office unexpectedly and caught me walking around without my shoes, she’d gone and tattled to Daddy.

Maisie stalked toward me, her sleek black dress and red stilettos a far cry from what I was wearing. “I’ve been waiting.”

I snuck a surreptitious glance at my phone. “I’m five minutes early.”

She didn’t seem to hear me. Maybe my voice couldn’t penetrate that shiny helmet of blond hair. “Emmy asked me to help facilitate this little shindig. Though . . .” She scanned the room. “She seems to have it quite under control. For the most part.”

“It does look good in here,” I said, relaxing slightly. Maybe I’d only have to see Emerson Leigh from afar. Maybe Bennett wouldn’t show up. Maybe this wouldn’t be as terrible as I thought it would be.

Again, Maisie didn’t acknowledge what I’d said. “Come, I’ll show you what to do.”

As I followed her to the side of the room where a table was piled high with assorted items, I braced myself for having to memorize Emerson Leigh’s poetry or do flash cards on the guest list so that I’d be able to call everybody by name, but all Maisie did was reach down into a cooler beneath the table and pull out some bottles of what were probably very expensive champagne. “There are sparkly plastic goblets under here somewhere,” she said, waving her arm vaguely at the table. “Just pour the champagne into the goblets and walk them around on one of the trays. Make sure everybody has one before the big toast.”

“Okay,” I said. That wasn’t very hard.

Maisie sighed, like teaching me had indeed been very hard. “It’s so lucky for Emmy that you volunteered to help. Otherwise, she would’ve had to hire strangers who didn’t know anything about her or feel invested in her success.”

I dropped the plastic goblets I’d uncovered. “I what?”

Maisie looked at me like I was an idiot, which really wasn’t too many shades off from her usual look. “Emmy. Is. Lucky. You. Volunteered. To. Help,” she said, slowly and loudly. “Otherwise. She—”

“I heard you,” I said. My mind was racing. I definitely had not volunteered. “Did she tell you that?”

“Yes,” said Maisie, still speaking slowly and loudly. “Excuse me. I have things to do.” She removed herself and went to the other side of the room, where she stood and stared at her phone, occasionally laughing at the screen.

I didn’t even care. As I sorted through the pile of things on the table, pulling out the trays and various packages of goblets, my mind continued to race. Emerson Leigh was so entitled. So entitled. She’d just assumed that I, as an employee of her father, was available to work for her off the clock. Like I was made to assist, not a full person of my own with a real life and real goals and real dreams. How many other things and people in her life did she not see, who she thought were just there? Her family fortune that she took for granted, her friendly condescension toward anyone who actually had to worry about money, that blithe feeling that she could literally do anything she wanted anytime she wanted?

She and Bennett were just alike. All the better that I no longer had to be a part of his world.

I wondered about it as I poured goblets of champagne and arranged them into concentric circles on the sparkly clear plastic trays she’d brought to match the goblets. The pair really made a cool-looking design: they made the champagne look glittery, too, fun and playful. Then people started filtering in, all people whose clothes fit perfectly in ways that meant they’d been tailored, and I pasted on my big fake smile, praying to every god that had ever been prayed to that Bennett wouldn’t show or that, if he did, they’d take care of me. I wasn’t picky who responded. If it was Zeus who struck me down with lightning, that was okay. Anubis pulling me down into the underworld was acceptable.

For a while, it seemed to be working. People kept on coming in, but the only ones I recognized were Mr. Decker and his wife—who gave me genuine smiles and thank-yous as they took their goblets—and a few of his business associates, who looked right through me. Maisie had eventually gotten off her phone and set up an hors d’oeuvres table on the other side of the room, where people gravitated for hummus and pita chips or vegetables and ranch dip. No matter how much money they had, people loved free food.

I actually started to relax a little bit. We were at six thirty, and even if the champagne was now warm waiting for Emerson Leigh’s toast, Bennett was never late. He would’ve been here promptly at six if he were coming.

A hush settled over the room. I turned to see Emerson Leigh emerging onto the stage, a brilliant smile on her face. A pit soured in my stomach. She wore a sleeveless vintage yellow-and-green plaid dress, a tight sheath that had probably belonged to an especially fashionable 1960s secretary. “Welcome, all!” she trilled, smiling even harder into the microphone at the podium. “I’m so honored that you all came out tonight for the launch of my new business!”

I took deep breath after deep breath, but I couldn’t stop my gaze from burning in her direction. Would she even thank me for being here, or was I just a piece of furniture or decoration to her? If my insides boiled any harder, they might spark one of the faux-fur scarves and cause the whole building to explode. Which would probably evaporate Maisie’s perfumes into a poisonous gas and eradicate the entire block.

Emerson Leigh was going on about how she created her business. “I was, like, hard-core inspired by feminism,” she said. “Because as a woman, why shouldn’t I start a business? We all love our pets and want them to lead better lives. If my cat could say what yoga’s done for her, she totally would. I actually brought a testimonial from her to recite on her behalf: ‘meow, meow, purr.’ ”

The crowd laughed. Emerson Leigh’s smile widened. Deep breath.

“They’re also inspired by feminism because I’m only here because of feminism. Because of the belief that I, as a woman, can do anything a man can,” she said. “I’ll be humble tomorrow, but tonight I want to thank myself for getting me to this point. My hard work and my talent and my drive.” She paused for a moment, giving me a chance to subtly snort. “If I can do it, anyone can do it!”