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Lenna
July
Two years before
Lenna thought long and hard about what she could write to Rich in order to make sure Rhiannon didn’t return toCity Gossip.That conversation with Gillian in Beverly Hills had slipped into every cell of her body. She’d reviewed every talk she’d had with Rhiannon, every choice, all their friendship dynamics. Maybe Rhiannonhadchosen her as a friend not because of who Lenna was, but because she was someone Rhiannon could manipulate, like a doll.
Lenna felt humiliated. And also naïve—Gillian had spotted it so easily. Lenna had never gotten revenge on anyone, neverdreamedof it, but it felt like poetic justice to manipulate Rhiannon’s career just like Rhiannon had manipulated hers.
And, well, Gillian kept egging her on. She didn’t bring it up just that one time, but dropped little hints whenever they got together. It got to the point where Lenna almost felt like if shedidn’tdo something to ensure Rhiannon couldn’t return, she’d look like a pushover, a fool.
Making allegations about Rhiannon and Frederick wouldn’t fly—Lenna hadn’t seen the kiss firsthand, and it wasn’t like couples weren’t allowed in the office. Nor did she have real proof that Rhiannon was preventing her from writing. Rhiannon’s attitude toward Gillian, especially considering Gillian’s anxieties, was problematic, but maybe not enough, either.
But then she thought of the Valium that Rhiannon sometimes took when she was having bad days. Lenna had witnessed it more than just that one time before her interview—often, if Rhiannon felt stressed or annoyed, or if she had to give a presentation or an interview, she popped a pill like it was a Tic Tac. She slipped some to other coworkers, too, sometimes in exchange for cash. So that was what she went with, in an anonymous email, both to Rich’s account and the head of HR. She knew how it would look. She knew the company policy. She knew Rhiannon would get in trouble.
She wrote the email quickly, from a throwaway Gmail account. She sent it off before thinking too hard about it. Then she spent about fifteen minutes lying on her bed and staring at the ceiling, feeling like shit. She thought of her mom, as she inevitably did when she felt she’d made a bad decision. She wished her mom could give her advice right now. Then again, she couldn’t imagine her mom ever getting into this kind of situation. The only friend her mom had—reallyhad, looking back on it—was Lenna.
That Monday was Independence Day observed, so she had the day off. But she was too afraid to go in on Tuesday. She pictured that if Rich took the email seriously—would he?—the company would likely search Rhiannon’s office and question her coworkers. They’d probably question Lenna, too. She feared that her expression or mannerisms would give away that she’d been the one to turn Rhiannon in.
On Wednesday, when she returned to work, she got her answer. There were whispers that Rhiannon had been fired. No one knewwhy. There was no ceremonial packing of her things and security leading her out—because Rhiannon was already on leave, she simply didn’t return. Rich didn’t say anything to anyone about a note, though. Part of Lenna hoped maybe itwasn’tbecause of her anonymous email and maybe some other reason…but she also knew that would be an awfully big coincidence.
And that was that. Lenna was sickened. It didn’t feel as validating as she’d thought it would. Did Rhiannon evendeservethis? Lenna felt full of doubt.
“Stop that,” Gillian insisted. “You did the right thing. I mean, pills? Don’t beat yourself up.”
“I just would feel so bad if she ever found out I was the one who reported her,” Lenna moaned.
Gillian scoffed. “Like you’re ever going to see her again?”
Probably not,Lenna thought with a dull ache. Maybe Gillian was right.
Two weeks passed. Things were eerily calm. Lenna hadn’t heard from Rhiannon, but she also hadn’t received any hate mail or suspicious packages. Rhiannon didn’t appear to know that Lenna was the person who’d told on her, but then again, she never came back toCity Gossip, not even to collect her belongings.
Lenna kept thinking she might run into her old friend—because surely she’d come back to LA by now—and they could have a conversation about it. In a perverse way, shehopedto run into Rhiannon…and maybe that Rhiannon would even know what she’d done. At least then she’d get to apologize. But a run-in never happened.
There were bright spots: Rich approached Lenna and asked if she wanted to write a piece about a young starlet who had ajewelry line at a local Pilates studio. “It’s only three hundred words,” he warned. “And we can’t pay you.” Regardless, Lenna jumped on it. Here was an assignment, falling in her lap. Maybe all she’d needed was for Rhiannon to move out of the way. She had Gillian’s piece, too. According to Gillian, it was going to be a two-page feature in the magazine.
Two mornings later, Lenna’s head was swimming with edits from Gillian as she walked into work. She was so distracted, she didn’t realize someone was standing in the entrance. The woman was talking to Honey, the friendly guard at the security desk. Lenna realized she knew her—it was Sadie, Gillian’s friend. The roommate she was fighting with. Lenna remembered the picture Gillian had taped up on her dashboard.
“Oh!” Lenna said. “Are you here for Gillian?”
Sadie spun around. Her eyes were red-rimmed, like she’d been crying. Her hands were trembling. “I’m Lenna. I’m atCity Gossip,” Lenna explained.
“Lenna!” Sadie nodded. “Yes! Gillian’s mentioned you! She works here, right? Do you know which floor she’s on?”
At that very moment, Gillian strode up from down the sidewalk. She had a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. When she saw Sadie and Lenna together, she paled.
“Hey!” Gillian practically sprinted to them. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Sadie said gently, sadly. Her gaze darted into the lobby. “But when I talked to the guard—”
“Come on, babe,” Gillian said abruptly, taking her arm. “Let’s get coffee.”
She steered Sadie back down the street, glancing at Lenna just once over her shoulder with a reassuring—and eye-rolling—smile.
Later, Gillian texted Lenna. The number always came up scrambled—Gillian said shestillcouldn’t find her regular cellphone—but she had some telltale texting quirks that made her easily identifiable. For example: She swore a lot, but she often didn’t bother to fix the autocorrect.Fuckingwas alwaysducking.It softened Gillian’s frustration.
Sorry I had to run, but shit hit the ducking fan, Gillian texted.Sadie’s IVF failed. She didn’t get a single viable ducking embryo.
