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JESSA: At work now, can’t chat.
TARA: Must make a lot if you can afford new dresses n shit
JESSA: I didn’t buy that dress.
TARA: So you’re just gonna leave mom to rot, huh?
My eyes drifted shut, guilt taking an insidious lap inside me. Our mother was in rehab for the third time. Third time was the charm, she’d promised. Tara expected me to be waiting at the exit, open arms and a smile at the ready. Because according to her—and most of my family—my rightful place was in Kentucky. With family. As the youngest child, with no children or husband, it was my duty to pick up the pieces of my mother’s life without fail, without complaint. Tara fuckinghatedthat I’d moved to New York instead.
So much for stowing my phone at work.
JESSA: She’s not rotting. She’s getting the help she needs.
TARA: So where’s your $$ for this month?
JESSA: I already sent it to you.
TARA: If you’re making $20/hour you should pay more. This shit ain’t cheap. You got three kids to raise too, or is that just me?
Tears crept into my eyes, blurring the edges of my vision. It was always the same old cycle. I wanted out, but I couldn’t find the escape hatch.
JESSA: I’ll send what I can after my next paycheck.
TARA: Pretty sure the woman who gave you life needs the help more than your wardrobe. Act right, Jessa.
Her words landed with the finality of an axe blow, and I shoved the phone into my desk drawer, chin trembling. One tear escaped, and I swiped it away before anyone could see—or even feel—that I was crying at my desk.
I drew a shaky breath, staring at my computer screen but seeing nothing.
It wasn’t fair. None of it felt fair. But Tara’s words brought the guilt crashing back over me, a sticky-sour avalanche of fears and doubts. Who was I to deserve this life? What right did I have trying to do better, do something new, when the rest of my family struggled so badly?
Maybe her words were just a reminder to pack up this silly fantasy and go back to where I was needed. New York didn’t need me. But Kentucky did.
I could feel the perma-frown on my face as I scrolled through my inbox.
All I could do was get lost in my to-do list. If nothing else, I needed to earn this six-figure job, and I intended to at least make the money I—and my family—required. I waited until I could see past the tears once more, and then I got to work answering emails, checking appointments, researching clients. By nine thirty, there was still no peep from Damian. That’s when I remembered to check his calendar—ugh, anxiety always derailed my common sense—and realized he was in a meeting until ten with his brothers and Francis.
When the admin tasks failed to keep the tears at bay, I pushed away from my desk and strode down the hallway. I wasn’t entirely sure where I was going, only that I needed to go somewhere. As I passed the open door of the break lounge, I spotted a head of glossy dark hair.
Cora Margulis. Axel’sabsolutely wonderfulgirlfriend who’d I’d met—and fallen in love with—Friday night.
I stared at her through the doorway, wondering if our friendliness from the fundraiser would carry over into the office. She’d mentioned being in town sporadically from her perch in the Hamptons, which made me think this was more of a social call than a bona fide work appearance.
“Hi, Cora!” My voice sounded unnaturally chipper. Whatever cool points I’d collected for making my own dress withered in the air between us as she slowly turned, eyes widening.
“Jessa!”
Phew. At least she’d remembered my name. Cora came toward me, her arms outstretched. It took me a moment to realize she was angling for a hug. I surged forward, and we embraced like the oldest of gal pals. My heart thumped as her fruity perfume wafted over me.
“So good to see you,” I gushed.
“You too.” She stepped back, looking me up and down. “Tell me, is this another one of your creations?”
I swallowed the last bit of my sadness from Tara’s guilt trip and looked down at my dress, smoothing the front of it. It was a simple A-line cream and black design that I’d made at the start of the course. “It sure is. One of my favorites. I didn’t intend it for work wear, but it seems like it’s up for the job.” I looked over her outfit then, noting the bold colors and blocky design. I could think of at least a few designs of my own that she might like in that style. “I’m still glowing from that party. I’ve never been to anything like that.”
“They’re a dime a dozen in this city,” Cora said wryly. “But they can be a good time in the right company. And I think you have the right company.”
I laughed, but it trailed off quickly. “It’s great working with old friends. Even though Damian is…you know…”
