“You just missed Ryan and Sienna,” my mom says from the living room.
“Darn it,” I say, not really meaning it. I love my brother, but watching him be lovey-dovey with his girlfriend kind of sucks and is not what I need right now.
The movie ends just as I sit down at the table, steam coming from my microwaved leftovers.
Gigi walks over and sits across from me, eyeing me the way she does when she already knows something is wrong and is deciding how much she feels like pushing.
“You look like you lost a fight,” she says before I can intervene, a bony finger pointed at me.
I reach up and touch my hair, which has fallen mostly out of the clip I put it in this morning.
“Thanks, Gigi,” I say flatly.
“Did the curse strike again?”
I stop mid-bite, spaghetti hanging from my fork. “No, that’s not even a possibility right now.”
I haven’t had time to be on dating sites or even worry about kiss number fifty. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve even thought of it in days. Weird.
She inhales deeply, sitting back in her chair, arms folded. “What’s got your panties in a tangle?”
“Just work,” I say, not wanting to get into it or tell her that the term is “panties in a wad” because I’ve told her before and she never gets it.
She lifts just one eyebrow—a talent I didn’t inherit, unfortunately. It’s her signature look, one that saysI’m not going to stop pestering you until you talk.
I put my fork down. “It’s just a crisis at work.”
She pulls her chin in, giving herself two. “Crisis?”
“Not like acrisiscrisis. It’s a work term.” Although this one feels like a real crisis. We haven’t even considered the fallout. If this gets legs, Bailey could lose brand deals and who knows what else. Maybe her contract for the show.
Nope. Not going there.
Gigi lifts both eyebrows this time, telling me to go on.
“A scathing video came out about a client, and I don’t think I can fix it.” I hold my hands up likeThere itis—are you happy now?
She looks disappointed. I think she was hoping for some really juicy gossip. Which this definitely is, but not to Gigi. I don’t think she’s even heard ofKingdom of Flame and Moonlight.
“Everything’s fixable if you’re willing to do what it takes,” she says.
It’s so like Gigi to say something like that. She’s never let me wallow, which was infuriating as a teenager.
“I don’t know what else to do,” I tell her.
“What does your boss say?”
“She’s out sick.” I haven’t even gotten an update on Simone to know how she’s faring or when she’s coming back.
“Well, who else is there?” Gigi asks.
I open my mouth and then shut it. There’s no one above me that can help, and the other associates don’t have enough experience. I’ve run through every option I can think of—press contacts, other firms, anyone with leverage—and come up empty every time.
My brain lands on Luke at that moment, and I almost laugh at myself for even thinking it. Because I would rather walk barefoot through shards of glass before ever asking him for help.
Gigi narrows her eyes. “There is someone.”
“There really is not,” I say, feeling annoyed that she can read me so well.
