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I was pretty sure the other VPs knew I was ready, too.
Hell, I was pretty sureEdieknew—I’d been more like her colleague than her subordinate since my last promotion; we functioned like a two-person dream team. There had been rumors of her retirement for a year now, and I felt it in my bones that she would recommend me to take her place when she left.
“Good morning,” Maya said as she walked into the department from the stairwell. “How was pizza night with the roommates?”
Maya and I started with the company on the exact same day and had been work besties ever since.
I gave my head a shake and opened Outlook. “Absolutely the same as the last, although no one ran into their room and slammed the door this time.”
“Those two are a trip,” she said, taking off her jacket and dropping into her chair. “Who would’ve thought they’d be so entertaining?”
I couldn’t rememberwhatI’d thought before they moved in, and it’d only been a couple months. Living with them was like a fever dream, just a hazy reel of weirddid that really happen?moments, and if it weren’t for the fact that they thoroughly enjoyed cleaning and paid rent absurdly early, I’d definitely be questioning my decision.
“Definitely not me,” I replied.
“There are donuts in accounting, by the way,” she said as she logged in to her computer. “But no chocolate.”
“If there’s no chocolate, there’s no donut.”
“Preach.”
A few hours later, while I was eating my Southwestern salad and listening to a mind-numbingly boring Zoom presentation about a new wellness app, my phone buzzed.
Max:I’ve got the details for tomorrow. Also—your payment will be 4k.
I stopped chewing. Four grand? I texted:You make 4k interrupting weddings??
Max:The rate varies and isn’t set by me.
That didn’t make sense; maybe Maxwasa sketchball. I texted:Is there some sort of governing board that sets the rates for objectors? Is there an Objectors Union that negotiates the wage?
Max:Listen, wiseass, I’ve never had to set a rate. Every time I’ve done it people have just offered me payment, as in “I’ll give you 2k to do this for me.”
That kind of made sense. I set down my fork and texted:And TJ offered you 4k to break up his redneck nuptials?
Max:Correct. Is that a workable wage?
I made a good living at Nesbo, but Ireallywanted to ditch the roommates. They were sweet but alot, so any bonus funds I could bank toward living alone in Stuart’s former residence would be very welcome.
Me:Yes. Details please.
Max:So the wedding is at 4pm and very casual. Jeans and boots. I’ll pick you up at 3:15 and we can talk through it on the way there, so you’re ready.
I picked up my Diet Pepsi and couldn’t believe I was actually going to go through with it. It was an absurd thing to do, but every time I thought about backing out, I remembered that moment last winter when I’d decided my only option was to marry Stuart and get divorced.
I’d felt trapped and helpless and utterly alone.
ThankGodAsha found Max.
I usually kept my thoughts about love to myself, because it seemed like I was the only one whogotwhat a ridiculous farce it was. The rest of the world bought into the absurd notion that there was someone out there justmadefor them, and I knew my opinions were pointless in swaying their wide-eyed optimism.
But if I could help TJ escape, I wanted to.
Besides, his fiancée sounded like a trash human who deserved to be publicly dragged.
Me:Can you forward me a brief outline of your speeches that I can review?
Just as I took a big gulp of soda, my phone started ringing. I looked at the display and gasped, sending my pop down the wrong tube.
