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“Am I fired?”
She scoffs. “Hell no. We just need some time to figure out how to tackle this. Take some time off, handle your stuff, and maybe let that fake boyfriend of yours tend to your wounds.”
I huff out a laugh as I wipe my tears. “He and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now. Things didn’t end well before I left Hawaii.”
She shakes her head at me, tsking before she says, “That man is way too hot to let go of, Charlotte. And even if it was fake, there was nothing fake about the way he looked at you.”
Her reminder of what I messed up stings, but I can’t worry about that right now. “I’m so sorry, Trina.”
“Stop fucking apologizing, Charlotte,” she says, and I think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard her curse. “I know you didn’t upload the video. It sucks, but there are always moments in life that we’ll never forget, choices we’ll make that will shape us. You will never forget this, that’s for sure,” she says through a laugh. “But be the woman I know you are, take care of your private life, and come back to work next week when the dust has settled.”
“Thank you.” I reach for a tissue from Helen’s desk as Trina leaves the office.
Helen stands and walks over to me. “I’m so sorry, Charlotte.”
“I didn’t think this could get much worse after what happened there. Boy, was I wrong.”
“Not that it’s any consolation, but I am damn proud of you for standing up to your mother. If I ever acted that way with my daughters, I hope they’d tell me off too.”
Smiling through my tears, I pull her in for a hug. “Thank you.”
“Now go. Try to stay off the internet, take a deep breath, and decide where you go from here. That’s the only thing you should be worried about right now.”
“I’m gonna try.”
I leave my office and head out the back exit of the building to avoid reporters that have started to gather outside. Sometime in the last twenty minutes, photographers started swarming the building and the last thing I need is to fuel this fire by going off on a reporter for trying to take my picture or get a comment about the situation.
This has to be a nightmare. I can’t possibly be living through this right now.
Damn the age of social media. And damn me and my loud ass mouth. I had to blow up in a public place. I had to curse and scream and act irrationally. And I had to ruin things with Damien.
However, I will say this, I felt exponentially better after getting my frustrations off my chest with my mother, so at least there’s a slight silver lining after all.
* * *
“Oh, Charlotte,” Noelle sighs as I open the door and see my three best friends standing on the other side. My bottom lip instantly starts trembling as the tears that have been streaming on and off since yesterday fight to come out again.
It turns out their flight home got delayed, so by the time they landed at LAX Tuesday night, it was almost midnight. Noelle insisted they could still come by if I needed them to, but the last thing I wanted to ask of them after they traveled all day was to come to my apartment. Instead, we settled for the next day around eleven, the perfectly acceptable time for day drinking to commence.
“I’ve got four bottles of champagne, one for each of us, and two bottles of orange juice. Will that do?” Penelope asks, holding up two very large reusable grocery bags.
“I have the best friends,” I say as I open the door wider to let them all in and then close the door behind them.
“How are you doing?” Amelia asks, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.
“Oh, well, I’m somewhere between feeling like a toilet brush and gum that’s stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe.”
She grimaces. “Yeah, neither of those sound very promising.”
“Nope. Nothing is promising right now, especially now that I’m internet famous,” I bark out as I lift one bottle of champagne from the bag and start to unscrew the metal ring around the foil on top.
“Well, if you’re famous now, we’ve got to work on your wardrobe,” Penelope teases as she assesses my attire. I’m wearing my fuzzy purple robe, black sweat shorts, and a baggy t-shirt underneath that I’m sure has at least three stains, no bra, and I haven’t brushed my hair since yesterday morning when I got ready for work. I’m sure I look phenomenal at the moment.
“She’s allowed to look like this right now,” Noelle interjects. “She’s going through a crisis, and I, for one, don’t know that I’d be handling it any better.”
Once we all have a mimosa in hand, we settle into my couch and the two oversized chairs in my living room to talk.
“So have you spoken to your mother?” Amelia breaks the ice first.
“Nope.” I stare down into my glass, watching the bubbles in the liquid float up from the bottom.
“Your dad?”
“Nope.”
“Damien?” she says last and my eyes lift to find hers full of concern.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“We…I didn’t exactly leave on good terms with him.”
“Yeah, we kind of figured since he was a bear the rest of the trip.” Penelope sighs.
“Did he say anything to you guys?”
“Not really. Just that he needed to know if we heard from you, so he knew you were okay,” Noelle says. “And when I told him you were, he grunted and then stormed off.”
“He never called or texted, so…”
“Did you expect him to?”
I shrug. “Not really. We both said some harsh things before I left.”
“Sounds like the theme of the evening,” Penelope snickers. “But for what it’s worth, Charlotte, I was so fucking proud of you.”
I suck in my smile. “Thanks.”
“No, I’m serious. Not only did you finally snap on your mom, which was gold, by the way,” she laughs, “but you also told off Damien’s dad, and that was like a feminist move for the ages.”
“I just…I couldn’t believe the things that he said about me. I overheard him and Damien arguing, and when he said I was too much and not the right woman for Damien, I snapped.”
“What did he say exactly?” Noelle asks. “We couldn’t hear everything from where we were standing.”
My blood starts to boil as I remember everything he said and relay it to my friends.
“Well, besides the fact that he’s an ass and completely wrong, I think it says something that you took his disapproval of you to heart,” Penelope says.
“What do you mean?”
