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Coming here tonight was obviously a mistake. I thought being here would cheer me up, but truthfully, I’m not sure anything can.
My life has officially gone to hell, and I have to accept it’s going to take every ounce of strength I can muster to not give up on my dreams of becoming a writer.
It’s just that I never thought I could be sitting here today with a double honors degree in English literature and journalism from Brown University, a multitude of experience under my belt, and a shelf full of awards, and still feel like I have no future.
People have all sorts of pep talks about being strong, but what happens when all seems lost and you find yourself sitting alone in your favorite restaurant with nothing but darkness to look forward to?
I guess for the moment, I should just be grateful that being a regular here makes me look less like a loser than I am.
The staff who know me will remember my happier days here when my mother was alive. We’d come by at least three times a week when I wasn’t away at college, and even more during the summer. That time together held many special memories I’ll always,alwayscherish.
My eyes drop from the half-moon-shaped Kokomo opalescent glass windows and land on the heart-breaking rejection letter that sent me here.
It’s fromMontrose Magazine. I have the letter opened and placed on the table next to my wine glass. I’ve read it several times since I received it. Part of me hopes that each time my eyes find the words, they’ll be different. That they’ll be the words I want to hear.
But they aren’t. They’re the same.
That first paragraph explaining my non-acceptance is enough to make me throw in the towel on my career for good—
Thank you for your interest in joining our team at Montrose Magazine. We wanted to let you know that although your resume and work experience are very compelling, our hiring team reviewed your application and did not select it for further consideration for the writer’s position.
Utter bullshit.
Last year, I was assured by the samehiring teamthat as soon as a writing position came up, I’d have first pickings.And, given the fact that I’d interned for them for four summers and worked at the magazine for a year after college,Montrosewas the only place I wholeheartedly believed would accept me.
They were the ones I was waiting for as I worked my last temp job and counted down the days for their recruitment season to open.
More than anything, I felt for sureMontrosewould remain untouched by the nemesis hellbent on destroying me. But I’m sure, even without any evidence of her tampering, that she got to them too.
Just like she did with all the other magazines I’d applied at. Her devilish fingers and thirst for revenge are the only way I can explain this unfortunate event.
As the heiress to Lachlan Caseros, one of the biggest media moguls in the US, Rachel Caseros has the power to burn all bridges for me before I can even think of crossing them.
I wish I could call her a bitch, along with every heinous name on this side of the solar system, but I can’t.
I can’t because she’s the result of my one very bad mistake.
One bad choice. One bad thing I can never take back.
I should have known better than to get involved with Scott. He was my college professor. All the red flags were waving in my face, telling me to run away. But I didn’t listen. It wasn’t until after the jet-ski accident that took his life, that I found out he was married to Rachel. Married with two children.
He took me for the fool I played right into his unfaithful game, becoming a convenientthingto pass the time whenever he was teaching at the university.
When I got involved with Scott, I didn’t think about what would happen to my father’s good name if our secret ever got out.
Our affair has only been kept a secret because Rachel doesn’t want people to know what kind of asshole her husband was. The only person who knows about it on my side is Madison, my best friend.
I trusted her with the truth because I needed someone to talk to. She also figured it out while I was seeing him in secret because we were roommates in college.
Although my sordid affair went down close to two years ago, I still wonder if I fell for his charms because I was grieving the loss of my mother, or if I really did love him.
My heart tells me the bitter truth is both.
Everything I’ve been through is enough for one person to experience in one lifetime. But sadly, it’s just the tip of the iceberg.
The job atMontrosewas supposed to be the silver lining to the dark cloud covering the life that will barely belong to me once I marry Nathan Gilmar in a handful of months. Once I say, ‘I do,’ I’ll be little more than the nightingale locked away in its cage.
Elena, one of the waitresses who always serves me, makes her way over. She’s grinning from ear to ear as if she’s got some amazing news to share.
