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I bought his act.
I can see that now.
What I can’t see—can’t wrap my head around—is why on earth he thinks it is okay to fire me like this.
Stop flirting with me, sure.
Stop kissing me? Of course… If it cooled off, I’d be hurt, but I’d survive.
My job is my lifeline. I buy food with my paycheck, for goodness’ sake.
Right now, with my palms planted over my eyes, I can’t raise my head. I can’t look at Lizzy.
I don’t want to be mad at her, and yet, a little voice in my head is starting to whisper resentful thoughts.
‘This is your fault,’ I want to say to her. ‘If you’d hired an assistant right away, this wouldn’t be happening.’
But I can’t say those things.
Above all else, she is my friend. I know she was trying to help me.
Her voice quakes. “Gwen, what can I do? I will quit. We’ll hire a lawyer. We’ll take him to court for whatever he’s up to.”
“Did he say why?” I lift my head.
“He said—” She grabs a tissue, and wipes her eyes. “He said it’s confidential at this point. He’s been talking to his lawyer in Manhattan; that’s all I know.”
“I don’t want to go to court.”
“But this is unfair treatment. You do your job well. He has no legitimate reason to terminate you. If this is about you guys hooking up, it’s illegal for him to fire you.”
It’s too late for her to talk about fair employment laws.
Brock and I crossed lines, and that was just as much my fault as it was his. I wanted him. I fell for his lines, his moves, his big, romantic gestures.
I sweep my gaze over my desk, taking inventory of all that I’ll have to pack up.
I need to get out of here. The walls are closing in with me. I need fresh air.
I need to think.
“Are you sure?” she says. “I have a cousin who’s in law school, and I could call her up and get some advice. I am putting in my notice today. I can’t believe he’s doing this.”
“Please don’t put in your notice. One of us losing our jobs today is enough.”
With a cringe, I think of Kate, up in Alaska. She may be unemployed soon, too—because of me. Because of my advice.
It’s like I’ve had blinders on. I thought love was real, and that Kate could have it. That I could have it. I thought love was more important than everything else… the bottom line. And now reality is giving me a cold, hard slap in the face.
As Lizzy launches into a speech about ethics, I tune her out and start collapsing the picture frames propped up across my desk.
I stack them up on one side of the desk, then rummage in a bottom drawer for a bag. A cardboard box off to one side near a shelf catches my eye.
And now, I am the stereotypical fired office worker—stacking her belongings into a sad box. I cradle it in my arms like a baby and fight off tears, all while Lizzy goes on and on.
She says she won’t stand by and watch this happen.
She’ll fight with me.
