When Bri spotted the empty sherbet container, she held it up. “You ate the whole thing? I just bought that the other day.”
“I was hungry.” I let out a loud burp. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed to wash my ass. “Fine. It’s me.” I struggled to stand, but Bri gripped my wrist and pulled me to my feet. But I didn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, I climbed into the bed and burrowed into a pillow. “I’m the problem.”
“Girl, stop,” Kay ordered, fluffing her long curls. “Let’s talk this out.”
Sighing, I announced, “I fucked up.” In my drunken stupor, I’d hastily sent an email, thewrongemail to Granny Joyce. You know, the one declining the job offer. That was bad enough, but I’d added an extra paragraph at the end. It was so awful, totally unprofessional. I didn’t want to read it out loud, so I grabbed my phone, opened my sent messages and let them read it.
Kay read the first part in silence. She gasped, meeting my gaze before she finished reading aloud,“P.S. Don’t be mad at me, but Jackson probably deserved that beatdown at the fundraiser.He’s an ass who always tried to look up my dress in middle school. And he used to try to trick me into playing Hide and Go Get It. He’s probably a sexual predator. Anyway, Granny Joyce. I love you. I hate that I can’t compartmentalize and do this job because I really need the money. My ex-husband broke me. Not my heart, but my bank account. Like I literally have no income, no money in the bank, no home of my own. I’m a bum. Thanks for listening. Love you. Bye.”
“Shit,” Bri murmured. “You really went there, huh?”
I shot my bestie a sidelong glance. “Please take my phone away from me if get drunk again,” I whined. “I can’t believe I did this.”
“You have to call her,” Bri suggested.
Gaping at her, I shook my head. “No. I’m not doing that. I can’t talk to her after this.”
“Well”—Kay smacked her legs with her palms—“what else are you going to do? Like you said, you don’t have the money. You can’t wallow. You made a mistake, and now you have to fix it and get your job back.”
“What if I don’t want it back?” I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Yes, the email sucked. It was reckless. Stupid. But, I’m not wrong to want to quit.”
“How do you figure?” Kay asked, raising a questioning brow. “You said it yourself, you need the money.”
“Money isn’t everything,” I countered.
Kay squeezed my hand. “I know, but—”
I stood, pacing the room. “I’m a wreck. Between Darrell and my financial situation, I can’t add Wes to the picture. Especially since I …” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about our last conversation at the fundraiser. The way he looked when he apologized to me, how I felt just being near him.
“What happened?” Bri asked, concern in her brown eyes. “You’re worrying me.”
“I don’t hate him,” I confessed. “I thought I did, but don’t.” The truth was I’d never hated him. Even through the pain, I’d always sensed there was more to the story, more to his abrupt departure back then. I still didn’t know the answers, but I believed him.Thatwas the problem, because it made me vulnerable to him, open to him.
Bri’s expression softened, signaling she understood me more than she cared to admit out loud. Because she felt the same way about Hendrix, wanting to hate him, but realizing she never could. “You don’t have to explain to me,” she whispered. “I get it.”
“I need to concentrate on me,” I explained. “I know myself. I’ll take this on and get wrapped up in his life, his family drama … him.” I shook my head. “I can’t do it.”
“I still don’t understand,” Kay mused.
And she wouldn’t. She was pragmatic and approached life’s trials as a challenge. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve done the same thing, but it was okay to say no. As hard as it was to turn down the money, I had to do what was best for me.
“It’s an assignment, sis,” Kay continued. “Work. And that’s what you do. You get the job done. You can do this.”
In theory, yes. But the precarious state of my reality made this goal seem unachievable. And detrimental. “I don’t want to. This isn’t up for discussion anymore. I’ll go see Granny Joyce today, apologize for my email.” I grabbed a clean towel and headed toward the bathroom. “But I’m out.”
When I emerged from my bedroom later, Bri and Kay were sitting at the kitchen table, bowls of Frosted Mini-Wheats in front of them. Cereal was my comfort food. When I was a little girl, my mother made me compete in every pageant she could think of. As a result, she’d restricted my diet to vegetables, lean meat, fish, and eggs. My mother also hated waking up before ten o’clock in the morning, so I became an early riser. It was the only time I had to myself, and I retreated to my hiding spot with a bowl of cereal. Somehow, milk and sugar made everything better.
Bri noticed me first. Smiling, she said, “You look refreshed.”
Twisting in her chair, Kay nodded. “Perfect. We poured you some. Grab a spoon.”
A smile tugged at my mouth, and I shuffled over to them, taking a seat next to the window. We ate in silence for several minutes. This was what I needed. Cereal and sisterhood.
“I fired Amir’s sister,” Kay blurted out.
Frowning, I asked, “From the dental office?”
She nodded. “And from the wedding.”
