Page 37 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

I laugh, shaking my head.

“Also,” she adds, eyes gleaming now, “he’s hot.”

“Seriously?”

“What? He is.”

“I'm not discussing my boss’s attractiveness with you.”

“You already did. Extensively. With adjectives.”

“That was before he became my employer!”

“Details.”

I grab a pillow and throw it at absolutely nothing. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“It might be,” Luci says cheerfully. “But it’ll be an interesting one.”

I groan.

She grins. “Call me when you get there. I want a full report.”

“Goodbye, Luci.”

“Love you!”

“Love you too.”

I hang up before she can say anything else, deeply unhelpful.

Silence settles over the room.

I look around one last time.

This place.

This weird, awful, transitional space where everything fell apart and then… didn’t.

“Okay,” I mutter to myself, standing up. “New life. Let’s not screw it up immediately.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m standing outside with my suitcases, waiting for my Uber and humming Toxic by Britney Spears under my breath.

With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride…

“Not helpful,” I mutter, cutting myself off.

Because wow, no, that isn't the song we should be associating with Ethan Strong right now.

I switch.

It’s gonna be me…

Also not helpful.

Why are all 2000s songs either about toxic relationships or terrible decisions?

I sigh, shifting my weight as a breeze cuts through the street.