Page 519 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Is this how you celebrate a triumphant debut?” Steph demanded, frowning at me with one hand on her hip. “Your name is basically up in lights, right under Branson. You’re a friggin’ superstar now. So why the hell are you moping around on the couch?”

I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling. “Have you not been paying attention to everything I’ve told you over the past forty-eight hours?”

She walked into the room still holding the spoon from her oatmeal and plopped down next to me. “Duh, of course I’ve heard you. I’ve heard every word, and I get that James acted like a total dick. But I think we both sort of knew that your relationship was more of a fling. I know I’ve never met him, but he doesn’t seem like the type of guy who’s looking for long term, you know? I thought you were okay with that. Why is it coming as a surprise to you?”

I shrugged and bit down on my lip to keep from crying. “Because it really seemed like he wasn’t a total dick, Steph. He was…special. And sweet. And romantic.”

“Yeah, and he kissed his supermodel ex on the world’s stage, so there ya go: total dick.”

I punched her leg and frowned.

“What? You know I’m not wrong.”

I didn’t answer, because deep down it did feel like she was wrong about James. And that’s what I couldn’t figure out. How could I have been so wrong about someone who I thought could be a part of my forever?

Not that it mattered, because he’d screwed me over, royally. And my phone had been silent since, which told me everything I needed to know about James. I’d hoped that maybe he’d call me, or better yet, show up on my doorstep to tell me that he’d made a huge mistake, and that he only cared about me.

I snorted softly. Yeah, right.

“What are you laughing about?” Steph asked.

“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” I said simply.

She leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek and walked back to the kitchen. “You know what’ll make you feel better?”

“A dozen cupcakes? A month-long nap?”

“No, a nice, big⁠—”

“Don’t you dare say workout,” I cautioned.

“Workout!” she exclaimed triumphantly, flexing one muscular arm. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! I’m going to go change.”

My phone buzzed with an incoming text, and I jumped to grab it, still hopeful that maybe James had come to his senses.

It was Rhea, asking if she could call me.

I placed the phone on my chest and sighed. Work. I’d called in sick but that clearly wasn’t enough to stop dear old Rhea from crossing the line. A part of me wished I was with my colleagues to celebrate the success of the show, but every time I thought about going to the office, I could envision James hovering in the background.

I wanted to quit. No, I needed to quit.

I closed my eyes and imagined marching into HR to hand in my notice, only to feel tears spring to my eyes. I absolutely loved my work, and my salary was at an all-time high. I just wished I didn’t have to associate the best job of my life with my biggest heartbreak. How could I get past all of my mixed-up, lovesick feelings and act like James was just my boss again? My body would probably always have an involuntary reaction to seeing him. Would it be possible for me to sit in a status meeting without focusing on the lips that had explored every inch of my body? And what about if our hands touched accidentally? Could I keep the goose bumps from spreading along my arms?

My phone rang and once again my heart fell out of rhythm until I saw who it was. Dammit, Rhea was persistent.

“Hey there,” I answered. “Everything okay?”

“Why aren’t you here with us today?” she pouted. “The woman of the hour, the brains and the beauty behind our latest success!”

“Yo, where are you?” a voice in the background called out that I recognized as Lavonte’s.

I frowned. I wanted to be there, but I also couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t feeling great today,” I answered.

“I bet. You really busted your ass right up until the last minute. You must be exhausted.”

“Yeah, I’ve been better,” I admitted.