What the hell are you doing, Samantha?
I let out a breath somewhere between a laugh and a groan and buried my face in my hands. I pulled my phone out of the couch cushion and texted Rose.
Me: Hey, so I did a thing.
Rose: Which thing? A sexy thing or a scary thing?
Me: Both? Because I just hit accept on my family’s scary career offer, that means 1A is my boss.
Three dots blinked for a very long time.
Rose: OH FUCK, sexy and scary it is…
Me: Yup.
I tossed the phone on the couch and flopped backward like the drama queen I am.
The ceiling didn’t offer any answers, but at least it didn’t expect me to have a plan. This was real now. I was no longer a flight attendant, Sam. I was now corporate Samantha. Ew.
“I can’t wear this,” I groaned, standing in front of my closet in nothing but a lace bra and matching underwear, holding up a silver satin mini dress like it personally offended me.
Rose didn’t even look up from the bed where she was sprawled with her third glass of wine and a face mask that made her look like a dewy alien. “Why not?”
“Because I’m about to start a corporate job at the company I swore I’d never touch, working for the man I definitely touched.” I paused. “Extensively.” She peeled a cucumber slice off her eyelid and stared at me. “And this is relevant to how you dress because…?” I threw it onto the bed dramatically.
“Because I need to look powerful. Unbothered. Like I didn’t just accept a high-level position while completely compromised by sex hair and childhood trauma.”
“You’re getting dressed for a night out,” she saidslowly, “not your first board meeting. Also, if you don’t wear that, I will, and I swear I’ll make out with someone who can’t pronounce ‘Pinot.’” I sighed, grabbing the skirt again and holding it in front of me.
“It’s short.”
Rose grinned. “So are you.” We both cracked up. God, I needed this night. Not the tequila shots and body glitter part, though I was fully ready for that, too, but the part where I remembered who I was outside of the Hayes orbit.
“I’m going to be in a boardroom with a man who’s seen me naked,” I said, slipping into the dress anyway.
“Cheers to feminism,” Rose muttered, standing and shimmying into her jumpsuit. It was black, backless, and illegal in at least three states. She looked like trouble. The best kind.
“Are you gonna tell him?” she asked casually, blending highlighter. “Tell him what?”
I tried to play dumb. Rose just raised an eyebrow. “That I’m a Hayes?” I muttered. “I mean, I’ll have to. What’s the etiquette on disclosing a secret billionaire lineage to a man who’s now your boss but also maybe remembers how loud you moaned his name?”
Rose blinked at me in the mirror. “I don’t know, but you’re doing amazing, sweetie.”
Lipstick. Perfume. Anxiety. Check, check, check.
We called an Uber and headed downtown. This night was like a bachelorette party, minus the bride, plus a bunch of our favorite hot messes, includingMarcus, our mutual friend and professional instigator, and Josh, my ex-situationship, who was somehow still in our group chat and still impossibly hot in a chaotic, DJ-with-an-MBA kind of way.
We walked into the bar like a slow-mo scene in a movie. Stilettos, laughter, city lights, and dangerous nostalgia. Josh whistled.
“Damn, rich girl, you look good.” I smiled sweetly. “And unemployment still looks good on you, babe.” He winked. “Still mad I ghosted you?”
Rose slipped between us. “Still mad she never slept with you again?” We claimed a booth, ordered a round of espresso martinis, and for a second, just a second, I forgot that my life was on the verge of imploding. Theo didn’t exist here. Hayes didn’t either. Just music, friends, and Rose’s foot tapping mine under the table, saying ‘breathe, babe’.
I got this.
I looked around at the people I’d chosen to build my life with. I looked at the chaos, the glitter, the city that had always made me feel like anything was possible. And I let myself smile.
Tomorrow, I’d deal with corporate realities and office politics and pretend I hadn’t seen my new boss naked.
