Claudia’s lips tighten. “Not happening.”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “Party pooper.”
Giving me a sympathetic smile, she says, “What are you going to do?”
I scrub my hands over my face. “That’s something I need to think about when I don’t have two lumberjacks chopping wood in my brain.”
“Then let’s sober you up.” Claudia jumps from the bed, takes me by the hand, and tugs. “You need a cold shower, and Tylenol.”
My body loosely jerks as she yanks at my arm. “Leave me alone,” I complain.
“No. What kind of friend would I be if I left you in this state?”
“A good one.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Penny, I know you’ve been through a lot. It’s understandable that you want to drink your feelings away, but alcohol is only a band-aid. It will give you a hell of a hangover—nothing more. What you need to do is go out there and show the world you are strong and fierce, and fuckwit Darren can’t bring you down.”
My back stiffens and I sit up straight. Claudia is right. After what Darren has done to me, there’s no way I want to look like the pitiful, heartbroken victim. “He’s the one who should look pathetic. Not me. I’m going to show everyone this will not drag me down.” I slide off the bed. With steel in my spine, I stomp barefoot to the door.
Before I open it, Claudia calls after me, “Where are you going?”
I turn around. “To show them how fierce and strong I am.” Isn’t that what she said I should do?
“Your clothes are disheveled, and you smell like a brewery. Maybe you should shower first.”
Looking down at myself, I see there are creases in my top and a few suspicious-looking water stains in the fabric. Then I cup ahand over my mouth, breathe into my palm, and sniff. I wince. Oh geez, I could knock a cowboy off his horse. I change direction and head for the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
In the bathroom, I fill a glass with water and swallow it with two Tylenol I find on the counter, which I assume were provided by Claudia. Then I strip out of my clothes and turn on the water. Once it’s at a temperature to my liking, I step under the spray.
If only a shower could wash away the past twenty-four hours. I wish Darren wasn’t a cheating bastard. I wish my life wasn’t in such turmoil. Unfortunately, I can make as many wishes as I want, and unless I find a magic Genie in a bottle who can turn back time, nothing will change my situation.
Leaning my back against the tile wall, I slide to the floor. I wrap my arms around my bent legs and drop my head onto my knees, letting the tears fall. Being tough is easier said than done.
After a few minutes, Claudia knocks on the door. “Penny, are you okay? Do you need help with anything?”
Carefully getting to my feet, I grab the bodywash and scrub my body. “I’m fine. Nearly done,” I call out.
What would I have done without Claudia? As soon as the video was leaked at my show, she was by my side, whisking me away from frenzied journalist circling for a great story to sell. The honeymoon suite wasn’t where she wanted to take me. For some dumb reason, I’d insisted.
When I’m done, I step from the shower, put on a bathrobe, and wrap my wet hair in a towel. I walk back into the room, and Claudia’s gaze trails me from head to toe. “You look… fresher.”
I crack the first genuine smile in hours. “Is that your way of saying I still look like shit but cleaner and smelling better?”
“You never looked like shit. Just sad.”
I tighten the belt of my robe. “I can’t face anyone yet.” The bravado I had earlier washed down the drain of the shower with the water and soap.
“There’s no rush. Whenever you’re ready.” Claudia’s phone chimes, and she picks it up. Biting her lip, she reads the message.
“Who is it?” I ask. “If it’s my mother, tell her I’m fine. I’ll call her later.” Much later. The only person more devastated about the affair is her. She loved Darren. Couldn’t wait for the wedding. Probably because she believed no one like him would want to marry me. I don’t have the energy for a conversation with her tonight.
“It’s your mom. She’s been trying to call you. You haven’t answered, so she texted me. She’s suggesting we get a statement out quickly as the news is exploding with different stories.”
I sigh and drop onto the nearest chair. Why can’t this disaster just disappear? “My brain is too muddled to deal with a statement right now.”
Pulling a chair up next to me, she says, “Well, as your PR manager, it’s my job to take care of it and handle the press. I should have done it by now, but I didn’t want to leave you.”
“I’m fine on my own. You should go to the office. I’d be grateful if you sort it out.” I trust Claudia will say the right thing. I don’t have the energy to think let alone write a statement about my cheating ex-fiancé.
