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An icy drop of rain splashed onto the back of Margot’s neck as she sprinted from her car, across the street, and toward the jewelry store. More drops followed, the sound of the rain going from an uneven patter to a steady roar as she pulled open the door to the shop. A gust of cold January air lifted the edges of her skirt and propelled her inside. Glass display cases formed a square in the center of the store. More glass countertops lined the walls. A white-haired man in a collared shirt stood inside the square helping a couple choose a diamond bracelet. Margot strode past them, her heels clicking against the white tile, and found a young female sales associate near the back of the store. Margot didn’t wait for her to ask if she needed help. Instead, she announced, “I’m here to pick something up for Beau Collins.”
The woman’s fingers tugged lightly at her dark blue turtleneck. She gave a tight smile. “Do you have a receipt?”
“He said he called ahead to make sure you would release the ring to me,” Margot said but she already knew she wasn’t getting the ring without producing the receipt. That was just the kind of day she was having. With a theatrical sigh, Margot plopped her large purse onto the glass counter between them and began riffling through it.
Voice smaller now, the sales associate added, “Sorry. Store policy.”
The vibration of Margot’s phone made her entire bag buzz. The glow of the screen illuminated the inside of the bag. Eve Bowers.
“Of course,” Margot muttered. Literally nothing about this day was going right. She should be sitting at the bar at Sandman’s Grill right now, white zinfandel in hand, chatting up the hot older guy from the TV station she’d been low-key seeing for the last few months. Things were heating up between them. Lately all she could think about were his hands.
“Miss?” said the sales associate.
Ignoring her, Margot sighed again and reached to the bottom of the bag, pressing Ignore. Eve would have to fend for herself. She’d only had one job today: help Claudia set up the anniversary dinner and make sure it was both television- and social media-worthy. How hard was that?
“Just a minute,” Margot snapped, shuffling the contents of her purse once more. Her fingers closed over the crumpled receipt her boss had given her earlier that day. “Here it is!”
She passed it to the sales associate, who used both hands to smooth it out on the glass top. She must have been new because when she saw the price, her eyes widened. She made a quick recovery though, smiling brightly at Margot. “Is this for the Beau Collins on TV? Beau and Claudia Collins?”
Margot suppressed a scream of frustration as her phone buzzed again. Eve Bowers. Ignore. Plastering a smile on her face, she said, “Yes, that’s right! He’s my boss. I’m his personal assistant.”
“I’ve seen their show,” said the sales associate. “It’s fun. My mom is obsessed with their book. She says it saved her and my dad’s marriage.”
Automatically, the words came from Margot’s mouth. Beau’s manager always wanted them to push the podcast with the younger demographic. “They’ve got a podcast, too. You should check it out.”
“Maybe,” mumbled the sales associate. She waved the receipt. “Let me go get this for you.”
She disappeared into a back room. Margot’s phone went off again. Eve Bowers. Plucking it from her purse, she made a noise of frustration loud enough for the other people in the store to hear. Ignoring their stares, she swiped Answer. “What is it?”
Eve’s perpetually sunny voice asked, “Are you there yet?”
Margot’s fingers tightened around the phone. “No, I’m—wait, you’re not at the house? Eve—”
“I know,” Eve interjected. “I’m really sorry. I don’t think I can do this. Lately, I’ve been feeling like this job isn’t right for me. I don’t know if I should continue, and—”
Margot tried to shake off her surprise. Of all the people who worked for Beau and Claudia Collins, Eve was probably the most dedicated, hard-working, and enthusiastic. A team player, Beau always called her. Every single person on the staff adored her.
Margot tried to think of something to say. All she could come up with was, “You are Claudia’s assistant. Literally your job is to assist her. Fine if you want to quit but don’t do it today, of all days. Be professional. Claudia is good to you. She deserves the benefit of your two weeks’ notice. At least.”
“I know. But you don’t understand. I—”
Margot cut her off again. “Eve, please. No one knows better than me how demeaning and frustrating this job can be. I get it, okay? But you have to pull it together for one night. Especially tonight. Get over there, help Claudia finish setting up, and then talk things over with her on Monday.”
Eve was silent.
A beep interrupted the dead air. A text notification. “Eve,” Margot said. “Just get over to the house, okay?”
“But I just talked to—”
Margot didn’t let her finish. She swiped End Call and pulled up the text message. It was Beau. Texting to say he was going to be late for his own anniversary dinner. Could she let the video crew know? Could she go to the house and drop off the ring?
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Margot mumbled, seriously considering smashing her phone through the glass case.
“Here you go.” The sales associate returned, holding out a small gift box, its top flipped open, as if she were proposing to Margot. Inside it, the thick, diamond-crusted band sparkled. It was far too ostentatious for Claudia, but what Claudia wanted wasn’t the point. It was what their audience wanted. It was always about what the audience wanted.
Margot tossed her phone back into her purse and took the box, snapping it closed. “Yeah, that’s it,” she said. “Thanks.”
In the car, clothes soaked and hair dripping from the freezing rain, Margot cranked up the heat and called Beau. He answered on the second ring and immediately started talking. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I owe you.”
