Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Evie

“Holy shit,” I laughed and sipped my coffee. “Seriously?”

“What?”

I looked up from my laptop at Greer. “I just opened an email from that investment firm I interviewed at a couple of days ago, the one Kitty’s grandson owns. You know, the guy who basically told me I was incompetent.”

“The hot one whose sperm I want?”

I nodded. “That’s him.”

“What did the email say? Does he need me to drop off a sterile collection jar?”

“No, this is even crazier. They offered me the job.”

“Oh, wow! That’s great!”

I nibbled on my fingernail. “Is it? Do I really want to work somewhere that the big boss doesn’t believe the job needs to exist, or that I’m able to fill it properly?”

“That depends. What does it pay? And can you negotiate for extra vacation time and a side order of sperm?”

I turned back to my laptop. I’d only made it through the first few lines that said I’d been selected for the job. There was an attached employment contract. Scanning the nine-page document, I was surprised to find the salary was more than my last job—definitely not commensurate with the experience Merrick Crawford felt I had. And the vacation time was very generous, too, not to mention the potential for a hefty bonus.

“Ugh. It pays really well, has four weeks of vacation to start, and profit sharing after one year.”

“And you’re saying ugh because you’d rather have shitty pay, no time off, and zero cut of the profits?”

I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be so painful to turn down a shitty-paying position.”

“Why would you turn it down?”

“The owner only wants to hire me because he found me the least-competent candidate. He admitted that. He said his board is forcing him to create this position.”

“So? Who cares what he thinks? Do you think you could do the job?”

I considered it for a moment. “I’m sure there are more qualified people who know the industry and would be able to jump in and have no learning curve. But I’m good at my job, and I think I’d be fine after I understood more about what causes the stress at work. I mean, aside from the boss, who clearly has a unique management style.”

“What’s the problem then?”

“Did you miss the part where the owner thinks I’m incompetent?”

She shrugged. “Prove him wrong. What happened when Mom told you you’d never be able to play on the volleyball team because you were too short?”

“I made the team and became captain the next year.”

“And when everyone suggested you apply to some ‘safety schools’ for your PhD, instead of just your top three choices, because all of them had a less-than-ten-percent acceptance rate?”

I smiled. “I got into all three.”

“Do I need to go on? Because I’m still bitter over me staying behind after I told you you’d never get backstage to meet Justin Timberlake when you were sixteen.” Greer shook her head. “You want to know what I think the real problem is?”

“I’m not sure. Do I?”

“The boss. You think he’s a bigger challenge than the job itself, and maybe he is. But so what? Look at him like a project you need to tackle, separate from the position. The Boss Project. It sort of has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

I nibbled on my bottom lip. “I don’t know. This guy made me nervous for some reason. I felt like he was trying to read my mind or something.”

Greer scoffed. “Trust me. You wouldn’t have been offered a job if he could see what was going on in there. I sort of imagine it like Cirque du Soleil, only the performers are a little drunk and also doing mind-bending, complex math problems while folding themselves into pretzels.”

I laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll think about it more later.” I finished my coffee and got up to rinse my mug in the sink. “Right now, I need to get dressed and go meet with my lawyer about the lawsuit. But don’t worry, I’ll be at the store to cover you by five, like I promised.”

“Thanks. Our appointment isn’t until six, so you can even come closer to five thirty. But when did you hire someone to represent you? You didn’t mention that.”

“I didn’t yet. But I think I finally found the perfect man for the job.”

“Where did you get him?”

“It’s someone I’ve known for years.”

My sister’s nose scrunched up. She knew all of my friends. “Who?”

“Simon.”

Her eyes flared. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“I’m kind of surprised he agreed to take the case. He’s a nice guy and all, but he always treated Mia like she was some sort of queen.”

“Well, he doesn’t know he’s taking it yet.”

Greer laughed. “Oh, Lord. This should be interesting. I’ll grab an extra bottle of wine for when you get home tonight.”

“Thanks, sis.”

She shook her head. “I still can’t believe Christian is suing you. The guy has giant balls.”

“I know. Such a shame his penis wasn’t a matching set.”

• • •

“Evie? What are you doing here?” Simon asked.

I looked at the receptionist, who had just walked me back for my eleven-AM meeting. She looked confused.

“Evie is what they call me for short,” I explained.

Her nose wrinkled. “For Jill?”

Simon waved to the receptionist. “It’s fine. Evie, or Jill, come on in.”

He came around from behind his desk and kissed me on the cheek. “So you’re my eleven o’clock? What’s with the fake name?”

“I’m actually surprised you didn’t crack the code. You must be slipping, Simon.”

“Code? What do you mean?”

“The name I gave.”

Simon walked back around his desk and looked at the printed-out calendar on top. “I thought the last name was unusual. Tedbride.”

“Say it with the first name.”

He looked down again. “Jill Tedbride.”

“Now put them together.”

“Jilted bride. Cute. Guess I’m a little slow on the sixth-grade gags. I might’ve gotten Ben Dover or Mike Hawk. But what did you make an appointment for?”

“I have some legal trouble I was hoping you could help me with.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear it. What’s going—oh, wait…” He shook his head. “No. Definitely not. If you’re here about what I think you’re here about, I can’t help you.”

“Please, Simon. I know you were mad that I didn’t give you the heads up before my speech at the wedding, but I thought we were past that.”

Simon ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not mad at you for not telling me. It’s just… I’m trying to put what happened behind me.”

“So am I. That’s why I need you to help me with this ridiculous lawsuit.”

“I can refer you to someone.”

“Come on, Simon. Isn’t there a little part of you that wants to stick it to Christian?”

He took a deep breath. “There’s a big part of me that would like to pummel him. But I promised Mia I’d work on letting it go.”

My head reared back. “Mia? Why would you promise her anything?”

Simon looked back and forth between my eyes. “You don’t know we’re back together, do you? Mia and I are trying to work it out.”

My face twisted. “What? Why would you do that?”

He took off his glasses and tossed them on his desk before rubbing his eyes. “It’s complicated, Evie.”

My face grew hot. “No, it’s not. When your girlfriend is caught screwing her best friend’s fiancé, it’s pretty simple. You throw her shit out on the lawn and change the locks. How could you take her back?”

Simon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I love her. She made a mistake.”

“She didn’t make a mistake. She made it dozens of times. It wasn’t like they had too much to drink one night, wound up in bed, and regretted it the next morning. They carried on an affair for months—with her supposed best friend’s fiancé. We went out to dinner as a foursome all the time, Simon! Her hand was probably on his dick under the table while the two of us sat there like fools.”

“I know you’re upset, but… Mia feels terrible about what she did to you.”

“They slept together in the honeymoon suite the night before the wedding. My dress hung five feet away from where he had her bent over. She was staring at her best friend’s wedding dress while Christian stuck it in her ass, Simon! Her ass! She’s told me she didn’t let you do that to her!”

He looked over my shoulder. “Please. Keep your voice down. I work here.”

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have come. I just… I thought we were friends, and I needed legal help, and… I don’t know. I guess I thought we could exact revenge together somehow.”

Simon frowned. “We are friends, Evie.”

“No, we’re not. You can’t be friends with someone who’s on the other side of the enemy line. I have no hard feelings toward you, but let’s be realistic. We’re never going to hang out again. Maybe you’ll write Happy Birthday on my Facebook wall, and I’ll post an LOL on the occasional Instagram picture, but that’s the extent of it.”

Simon’s mouth set to a grim line. There wasn’t anything he could say, because he knew I was right. And really, I felt sorry for him. Mia had screwed over him and her best friend. That wasn’t a mistake; it was a character flaw. And she would do it again to the poor bastard.

I stood and held out my hand. “Goodbye, Simon. Good luck.”

He stood. “Do you want me to at least refer you to someone?”

“No.” I smiled sadly. “That’s okay. Thanks anyway.”

I walked out of Simon’s office feeling like a layer of new flesh had been ripped off a gaping wound. I’d known coming here to talk about what had happened wouldn’t be easy. But I hadn’t been expecting this. Six months had gone by, and it seemed I was the only person left behind. Christian had posted a photo while out on a date the other night, and Mia… She’d gotten her boyfriend and her old life back. Meanwhile, I was unemployed, homeless, a laughingstock to a billion people, and about to be sued for everything I’d earn over the next ten years—if I could actually find a job.

• • •

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” Greer frowned. I’d arrived at her specialty wine shop a little earlier than she’d needed me to so I could fill her in about Simon and Mia. I hadn’t been able to shake the conversation I’d had with him, and I’d wound up going out to Brooklyn to take a long walk on a beach where I often collected sea glass before coming to the shop.

“I expected he might turn me down. Simon was never big on drama—that was Mia’s forte. But I never anticipated he’d turn me down because he and Mia were back together.”

My sister shook her head as she finished unpacking a box of wine, lining the bottles up on a shelf. “I can’t believe someone as smart as Simon would be stupid enough to take her back.”

“I know. I tried to put myself in his shoes. He and Mia were only boyfriend and girlfriend, not engaged like Christian and me. But I honestly don’t think I would feel any differently if Christian and I hadn’t been engaged when I caught him. Cheating sort of has levels. If you have a drunken one-night stand, that’s a three on the cheat-o-meter. If you have an ongoing relationship with someone else, that’s like a six and a half. If it’s with your significant other’s friend or family, it rockets the offense up to a ten. Maybe, maybe, I could forgive a three. But anything higher, it’s no longer a mistake. It’s absolutely a choice. The whole thing just makes me so crazy…” I lifted my chin to the locked glass cabinets behind my sister. “I might bust open your fancy reserve cabinet and drink a few bottles.”

She pointed to the shelf behind me. “You can get just as drunk on the cheap stuff, sister.”

I walked behind the counter. “Don’t worry. I like to match my alcohol with how I’m feeling, so the cheap and crappy stuff it is.” Pulling open a drawer, I tossed my purse inside. “Now go—get out of here. I don’t want you to be late for your appointment to pick out my future niece or nephew’s genetic benefactor. Actually, hang on a second…” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of bright red sea glass. Leaning over the counter, I held it out to my sister. “Take this with you.”

Greer kissed me on the cheek as she took it. “You and your lucky sea glass. I’ll see you at home later. If it’s slow, lock up at seven thirty. You don’t have to wait until eight.” She grabbed two bottles of wine from a display. “We’re going to need these to continue our conversation about what an idiot Simon is when I get in. Ben has to go back to work after we’re done, so it will be just us girls.”

“I feel like he’s never home lately.”

“His company needs twenty-four-hour IT support since they’re global. Both the night-shift guys quit the same week, so he’s basically been working nonstop. It’s a good thing we’re getting help with our fertility because we’re never in the same room long enough to conceive.”

I smiled halfheartedly. “Love you. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Love you, too.”

For the next hour and a half, I helped a few customers, washed the front windows, and stalked my phone for unhealthy fast food within a three-block radius. When seven thirty rolled around and no one had called or come in for forty-five minutes, I decided to do as my sister said and close early. I needed to feed my soul to make myself feel better—literally, not figuratively. So I turned off the neon OPEN sign, locked the door, and walked one block over to Gray’s Papaya for the best hot dogs in the city. It had been a long time since I’d had one. Lord knows I’d been watching everything I ate earlier this year so I could look my best in my wedding dress. And I hadn’t had anything but coffee all day today, since I’d lost my appetite after my appointment this morning. I actually salivated as I watched the cashier add chili and cheese to my order. When she was done, I was so anxious to dig in that I grabbed the bag and started to walk away.

“Excuse me. That’ll be nine sixty-two, please.”

I turned around and shook my head. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I got so excited, I forgot to pay.” I pulled out my credit card, as I’d used the last of my cash earlier today to buy coffee from a street vendor.

“Here you go.”

The woman swiped and then frowned. “The card was declined.”

“That can’t be. I have plenty of credit available.” I motioned to the credit card machine. “Can you try it again?”

She did, and the same thing happened.

“Shoot. Alright. I’m not sure what the problem is.” I pulled another card from my wallet. “Use this one.”

The cashier swiped and then sighed. “This one’s not working either.”

“What do you mean it’s not working?”

She pointed to the screen. “It just says declined.”

“But that’s impossible. Your machine must be broken.” I looked around and noticed the woman next to me paying. Her card seemed to go through without a hitch. I pointed. “Can you try that register?”

The teenage cashier barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “Sure.”

But the same thing happened at the other register. And now a line was forming since I was preventing two rows of people from paying.

“Ummm… I’m sorry. I’m not sure what’s going on. Can you hold my order aside, and I’ll call my credit card company? There must be some sort of mix up.”

Since the store was loud, I stepped out front. After way too many prompts and pushing zero angrily five times, I finally got a human on the phone.

“Hi. My credit card was just declined, but it shouldn’t have been. I have plenty of available credit.”

“Account number?”

After I read the number to her and went through a few verification questions, the woman put me on hold for a moment. When she came back, I was hungry and frustrated.

“Hi, Ms. Vaughn?”

“Yes.”

“It seems your card has been closed.”

“What do you mean it’s been closed? I didn’t close it.”

“It’s a joint account. The joint account holder closed it.”

“What joint account…” Oh my God. I felt my face turn redder than the delicious hot dog I should’ve been eating. Christian. I’d forgotten that we’d applied for this card together. They’d offered it to us when we opened our joint bank account, even though I’d been the only one to ever use it.

I shut my eyes. The joint bank account that I now used as my personal account. I guess that explained why my ATM card wasn’t working either. I was seriously going to kill that man.

I took a deep breath. “Can I reopen it under my own name?”

“Of course. I can take the application over the phone for you, if you’d like. And if everything gets approved, we can have your new cards shipped to you in three to five business days.”

No Gray’s Papaya. So no point to this call right now.

“I’ll call back tomorrow and do that.”

“Okay. Is there anything else I can help you with this evening?”

“Can you buy me a hot dog?”

“Excuse me?”

I shook my head. “Never mind.” I just wanted to go home and crawl in a ball. Except I didn’t have a home. I lived at my sister’s.

So with shoulders slumped and my stomach growling, I started toward her place. But that route took me back past the wine shop again, and as I approached the store, I realized I could at least borrow ten dollars to get something to eat from her register and leave her a note. So that’s what I did. I unlocked the door, rang in a one-cent sale so the drawer would open, and took out a ten, replacing it with a note in case I forgot by the time I got home.

When I shut the drawer, I tossed the ten in my purse and headed out. But not before grabbing another bottle of wine from the display Greer had looted earlier.