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Derek finds my purse and brings it to me. The sight of this ripped, bare-chested, tattooed male carrying my purse is something I won’t soon forget. It’s increasingly difficult to fully focus on Nicole’s bad news.
“It wasn’t a favorable look, and it’s going viral,” she says. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but…I’ve been in a meeting with Josephover the last hour, and it wasn’t good, Mac. You’re about to receive an email invitation for a videoconference with us. And because I know you and I’m sure there’s more at play here than how it appears, I wanted to give you a heads-up so you’re not blindsided by it.”
I slump down onto the bed—crumpling under those words.I’m probably getting fired.And then like a ghost, I slip out of my skin long enough to stare at this sad lump of a person and judge her for not having the decency to remember what I’m sure was a damn good French kiss with Derek.
Life is deeply unfair.
I’m spiraling out too much to wonder why Derek is rifling through my purse. But when he pulls out my tube of acetaminophen, it makes sense. He’s just trying to get rid of his hangover headache.
“So…I’m fired?” I ask, all flat and emotional.
In front of me, Derek taps two pills into his palm and then disappears behind me to the other side of the room.
“Legally, I can’t answer that question in an unofficial phone call. But I need you to know, I’ve tried everything to dissuade Joseph from his decision. Hopefully you can come up with something better.”
“Why are you even warning me, Nicole? I deserve to be fired.”
She grunts a frustrated sound. “I really shouldn’t be saying this, but you didn’t break any company policies, Mac. There’s nothing that says you can’t be in a relationship with a client. What you did do, however, was make a spectacle of yourself that reflects badly on the agency. That’s the only reason they could fire you. So don’t give up yet—Ididn’t risk my ass calling you to hear you wallow. I called so you could get a hell of an argument ready.”
“But why?” At this moment, I don’t feel worth it. Maybe all the patronizing comments the jerks at the office have said to me are true. Maybe I’m not cut out to be an agent since I clearly let my feelings for a guy get in the way of my career.
“Don’t do that,” Nicole says, almost as if she’s reading my thoughts. “You’re a damn good agent. Yes, you screwed up, but we all do from time to time. Move on. Find a way to turn this into something positive.”
Derek rounds the bed and moves in front of me. I’m face-to-face with his navel and I realize after staring for a second too long at his smooth, hard skin that he’s handing me something.
Nicole continues talking in my ear. “You’re the only other person in this toxic office who understands what we’re up against. I can’t lose you or I’ll have to quit too. So fix it.”
Even in the midst of my turmoil, I find myself smiling. There’s a man in front of me gesturing for me to take the meds and water I thought he was getting for himself. And there’s a woman who I endlessly respect on the other end of the phone looking out for me. The shadow of loneliness that has been creeping over me for a while now fizzles away like morning haze being eaten up by the sun. I’m not alone.
“You’re a good friend, Nicole.”
She’s silent a moment before answering. “We’re not friends.” And then hangs up. But I don’t take it personally because I know it’s a lie. A colleague wouldn’t risk what she just risked for me. I think Nicole is just as unfamiliar with the idea of friendship as I am. We’re both workaholics with big personalities. We’re too much for most people and used to facing everything on our own. Two little dramatic peas in a pod.
“Take these. You’ll be able to think clearer without a hangover headache,” Derek says, and it’s this tender offering that slams into my stomach.
My anxiety and nerves hold hands and twirl, forcing me to run to the bathroom and pitch my face back into the toilet bowl, throwingup all of my bad decisions, hoping to anyone above that Derek isn’t listening.
—
This time, it’s really not funny. I’m throwing up and sobbing into the toilet bowl because everything I’ve worked so hard for is gone.
“Please go away,” I tell Derek when I hear him enter the bathroom.
“No.” He drops down behind me.
“Derek, I’m serious. Please go! I have to deal with my bosses in a few minutes and you don’t need to be here for that.”
“I’m staying, Nora.” He leans around me to turn on the shower.
I want to shut my eyes and slump over the toilet seat and live here for the rest of my life instead of facing what comes next for me. But Derek’s arm circles my waist and hauls me to my feet. I don’t want to stand, though. I want to be left in my misery. I’ve never considered giving up before, but everything is a towering monster this time. I’m too tired.
“I can’t do it, Derek. I messed up. My career is over, and I don’t want to face it all.”
“Hey.” He spins me around and I sag into him even though I really need to stand on my own two feet. I am usually so good at it. But today, I’m exhausted, and his chest is so firm and warm and capable.
He doesn’t push me away. He slides his arms around me and holds me like my soul has been craving. I melt against him, savoring every inch of our connected bodies. This hug is like coming home from a long trip and finally drinking coffee from your favorite mug. Curling up in that plush blanket you’ve been dreaming about for days.
“You didn’t let me give up,” he says, his voice a soft rasp in my ear. “And I’m not going to let you give up now. You have a meeting to get ready for.”
