“What a complete and total asshole!” I can always count on my bestie to feel my despair as though it’s her
own. “I mean, it’s not totally unexpected though, is it? He has a r eputation, after all. Grumpy and power- driven
and all that. He’s not exactly known for being nice.”
“No. I guess not.” Exc ept in those quieter moments, when he’d smooth my hair and kiss me softly.
I’m in Emma’s apartment sipping emergency Pinot Grigio and watching her unpack four new lamps she
bought online. A few of Emma’s friends are making a surprisingly good living by styling their minuscule New
York City apartments and posting about it on Instagram. So Emma is making a somewhat half-assed attempt to do
the same thing. I’m not sure her heart is completely in it though. “Damn it. Do you think these clash? They’re all
different colors. Why didn’t I think of that when I was buying them?”
“It’s eclectic. I think it works.” I take another sip of wine. But then I set my glass on the table, wiping my
tears. Wine isn’t going to help me right now. I didn’t allow myself to cry in front of Ace but I started bawling like
a baby as soon as I got to Emma’s door. And I’m not usually a cryer. The avalanche of emotions wanted out and
now that it’s over, I feel the tiniest bit better for it.
Emma looks up from her mountain of bubble wrap. “What did you say to him when he fired you?”
“I grabbed my backpack, told him I’d have the apartment cleaned out by the end of the week and walked out.”
“Did he follow you?” “Like a caveman dragging his knuckles, all the way down the stairs—I didn’t think we
should be trapped in an elevator together—demanding I listen to him and trying to grovel and talk me out of it. He
even threatened the cab driver but I told him he was acting like a psycho and that he had to let me go. I finally
managed to jump into the cab and I came straight over here.”
“I still can’t believe you left him.” I can’t either. “I still can’t believe he fired you.” “To tell you the truth, I
was kind of expecting it to happen sooner or later. I was skating on thin ice the whole time. I knew that the minute
I saw him sitting there in his executive office.”
Emma gives me a sympathetic look. “It was probably a knee-jerk reaction. Him firing you, I mean. What had
you been talking about when he did it?”
“I said if it was between him and the job, I’d choose the job.” “You did?” I nod, feeling kind of bad about it
now. “And now I have neither.” “Poor Cash. That’s harsh.” I know. I wish I hadn’t said it. “No wonder he was
mad,” she says. “He was probably just hurt.” I take another sip of wine, wishing it would help me rewind time. “I
feel so terrible. But it can’t really work, Em, can it? I can’t have him as my boss and still be having sex with him
24/7. I’d be trying to rise above the rumors but would always feel like everything I do at work is being
undermined. Every achievement would always be eclipsed by the fact that I’m screwing the boss.”
Emma contemplates me for a few seconds. “You know what your problem is?”
“What’s my problem?” “You care too much about what other people think. Who cares if they have the wrong
impression?”
“That’s what he said too.” My phone vibrates again from inside my backpack, which is sitting over by the
door. I’m avoiding him, which is probably wildly immature but I told him I needed some headspace to work
through all this stuff and it’s true.
“You don’t have to try to rise above the rumors, Dust. Just rise above them! Swan past them. You know what
the real story is, that’s all that really matters.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I rub my sore, tired eyes. “Of course I’m right. Still, I know it’s easier said than done.”
“I’m such an idiot.” “You’re not an idiot. You’re just finally getting laid properly by a prime hunk of alpha man
meat and it’s thrown you a little. Your emotions are on overdrive. It’s understandable.”
I smile weakly. “I guess so. Anyway, maybe we’re just too different. He’s the king of New York and
I’m... not.”
“You’re a badass Texan power chick, Dusty Rose. You’ll figure it out. Either you’ll find your way back to
him or you’ll find a new job and I’ll introduce you to all the suits I know for some great rebound sex.”
“I don’t want rebound sex.” “Rebound sex can be awesome.” “I don’t want anyone else.” Emma rests a lamp
in her lap. “He must really have an incredible dick.” “Unfortunately, he really does.” She laughs and I can’t help it.
I’m so strung out and exhausted, the only thing I can do is cry as I laugh with her. Tears are streaming down our
faces. It’s more hysterical and reactive than it is funny, but it still somehow helps.
When we finally come up for air, she says, “Hang on. I need to rewind for a second. You said... he groveled?”
I can detect the tiniest bit of awe in her at the question. “Like how? What did he say?”
“He said I wasn’t really fired and he wanted me to stay.” Emma’s eyes round. “Why didn’t you?” I throw my
hands up. “I don’t know, Em. Because I’m insane and I was in too much of a state. I can’t believe I’ve just thrown
away my entire future after all those freaking years of hard work and lost Ace in one fell swoop. I’m the stupidest
person in the world.”
“You haven’t thrown away your future,” Emma scolds. “Don’t be so melodramatic. He groveled, Dusty.” She
still seems distracted by the thought. “The CEO of one of the most successful companies in Manhattan groveled. I
wish I could have seen that.”
I wipe fresh tears.
“Dust, you’re just overwhelmed because of everything that’s happened to you this week. But I think we
should circle back to one important detail. Cash Maddox was pleading with you not to go.”
I sigh. He really had been... sincere. And gorgeous, of course. “Maybe I’m losing my mind. I’ve ruined
everything.”
She asks the question gently. “What are you so scared of, Dust?” “I don’t know.” But I do know. And so does
she. “You’re scared he’ll leave.” Emma knows the surface details of the old
went-out-for-a-pack-of-cigarettes-and-never-came-back sob story. “It was always something you were going to
have to overcome, Dusty.”
“I know.” She contemplates me for a few seconds. “What else?” “I’m scared of how unlike myself I feel. I’ve
always been in control of my life. I knew exactly where I was headed and how I was going to get there. But with
him... there’s no control. I completely lose myself in him.”
Emma’s eyes get shiny. “Holy fuck. You’re in love with him.” I don’t even disagree with her. For the first
time maybe ever, I tell her how I actually feel, instead of hiding from it. “It’s like he’s opened up a whole new
universe in me that I didn’t know existed. One where I’m worshipped and adored and made to feel like a goddess.
It’s been more than just a huge sexual awakening, it’s the first time I’ve ever experienced intimacy on any level at
all—and this is just a surreal level. I can’t resist him and I never want to. But then... when reality se eps in, I always
wonder if it could actually work.”
“I think it will work. I think it’s going to.” My eyes start leaking again. “You do?” So do hers. “Do you know
how lucky you are? I’ve never felt like a goddess. Damn it.”
I slide down onto the floor next to her and give her a hug. “What you need is a good night’s sle ep, Dust. In the
morning you’ll see that everything isn’t as dire as you think it is and that you two are probably soulmates because
no one acts like this unless they’re having their entire existence upended.”
“I guess I’ve overreacted to everything.” “You’re reacting. Which is something you’ve never done before. It’s
a good thing.” Emma places a small red cordless lamp on the coffee table and
turns it on. “This actually doesn’t look too bad, if you like a brothel-meets- Ikea vibe.”
Emma’s phone dings from where it’s sitting next to her on the floor. She picks it up and studies the message
for a few seconds. “What the...”
“What is it? Who’s it from?” She’s distracted. Her eyes are wide and she’s riveted by whatever she’s reading.
“Em?” “Um. Hang on just a sec. Holy shit.” “Who is it?” She texts back a quick message. “Emma, who are
you texting?” “Just someone from work.” “At eleven o’clock at night?” “You know us editors. We work 24/7.”
She puts the phone down. Then, slightly more breezily than she should, she says, “Now, while I unpack the rest of
these, I want you to go and take a long, hot shower. Then you’re going to climb into your half of my
super-luxurious bed. It even has a brand new duvet, thanks to my new side hustle. It had to look Insta-worthy.”
At the mention of bed, I suddenly feel bone tired. “That sounds like heaven right now. Thank you, Em. For
being the best friend there is.”
“Right back atcha, honey. Are you...” She pauses, treading carefully. “I was going to ask if you’re going to
work tomorrow. Or did he give you notice?”
“When he told me I was fired he said it was effective immediately.” “I’ll take the day off and stay with you.”
“You don’t have to.” “I was thinking about doing it anyway. My friend linked my Instagram account in one of her
posts last week and I have, like, ten thousand new followers and four new client requests. This thing could actually
work. And I can do some editing from home while I’m at it.”
“Only if you want to. But I’ll be fine either way. I’ll be scouring the internet for another job.”
“We’ll see about that.”