“Because I need you to take over Calvin Klein.”
I swallow hard. Courtney had been working on landing that account for almost a year. She’d wined and dined them until they’d finally signed on. This would devastate her, and possibly them. They adored her. The part of me who understands how hard this job is, who gets just how important it is to have an account like Calvin Klein on your résumé, starts to protest. But I think of Max—how Courtney had pretended to be my friend until the very end, even texting me the day of the rehearsal dinner to tell me she couldn’t wait to see me. Even when she knew what was about to happen. No, she doesn’t deserve my sympathy. Maybe it was time for her to lose something she loved too.
CHAPTER TEN
Oops I did it again. #MaybeBritneywasontosomething
I hurry into my office and close the door tightly behind me, anxious about crossing paths with Courtney, not sure what I’ll say when I see her. Um, sorry, I wished you a demotion didn’t exactly top the list. Despite what she’d done to me, I didn’t love myself for stooping to her level. Jules kept reminding me of the old adage, an eye for an eye, but I’d never operated that way—preferring to take my grandmother’s advice and always choose the high road. Until now. Presently, I am driving 150 miles per hour down the low road.
I kick off the heels that are already cutting into the flesh across my toes, making a mental note to make a wish for gorgeous four-inch stilettos that never hurt, telling myself there’s nothing frivolous about a woman wanting comfortable and sexy footwear. As I start to dig into the mound of work that’s piled high on my desk, my computer dings with an email from my mom. I flinch when I see her name, wondering what she could possibly want after our marathon chat on my way to work this morning. Although, in her defense, she might have been able to tell I was only half listening. My mind was swirling with questions I still had for the only person who seemed to hold the keys to unlocking this mystery of why some wishes came true while others didn’t.
My mom had called on my way to the office and I’d picked up without thinking, my shoulders tensing when I heard her voice. Not that I didn’t want to talk to her, but it wasn’t a conversation I was prepared to have this morning. She’d already left me a half dozen messages in just two days, and before I could even get the words how are you? out of my mouth, she launched into a tirade about everything from not wanting to stay on the same floor of the hotel as my dad and the wife to wondering what they were getting me as a wedding gift—hoping they weren’t going off registry, which would be so like her.
As I’d listened to my mom rambling on, I knew she was just working through the stress she was feeling about spending several days around the very people she’d spent years avoiding. Even though I knew weddings often brought out just as much family drama as joy, I needed her to stop. Because the more I listened to her rants, the more I was starting to worry about my own future with Max. Even if I were able to fix things with him, would he still eventually leave like my dad did? And then would I spend years being resentful that I hadn’t moved on after I discovered he had doubts about us?
To my relief, my mom’s email turns out to be a link to several mother-of-the-bride outfits she’s considering and I quickly click through them and select my favorite, and write back that we should get together for breakfast soon. Deciding that when I see her I’ll delicately broach the subject of dating. She needs a man.
An hour later, I’ve barely made a dent in the stack of press releases that need to be approved when my cell phone buzzes with a text message from Liam.
Thai tonight?
I write back without hesitation:
Absolutely!
Then I fire off another:
Our usual place?
Yes! 6:00?
Perfect! Craving spicy noodle soup and Thai Elvis!
I laugh to myself as I send off the last text, thinking of the Elvis impersonator who performs at our favorite Thai place, knowing I can count on his solid rendition of “Hound Dog” to bring some levity to my day.
As I’m humming the tune to myself, there’s a knock and I stiffen. “Come in,” I say, already knowing it’s her.
“Hey,” Courtney says, pushing the door open, her eyes wet with tears.
“Hey,” I echo, trying to steady my shaky voice.
“So I guess this is all yours now.” She hauls a large cardboard box across the room and drops it in front of my desk. I flinch when it hits the floor.
“I don’t know what to say—” I start.