Big Dick Energy - Cindi Madsen Page 0,79

a movie with you instead of letting me lie in bed and cry.”

“You cried on the couch just fine until you fell asleep,” Ellie so helpfully added.

I’d also shed plenty of tears the next day. And okay, there’d been a few crying jags throughout the week. Basically, I was crossing my fingers that red-rimmed eyes would suddenly be considered chic.

This was probably karma for joking that makeup artists must use red eyeshadow during fashion week to cover up the fact the models had been crying over not getting enough to eat.

My stomach growled, loudly enough both of my friends gave me that look, so I stopped fighting them, forced one foot in front of the other, and entered the bar.

Over the past several days, I’d drifted through work to the point that when Mr. Bishop called me into his office yesterday afternoon, I’d been sure I was about to get fired.

At long last, my boss not only recognized my efforts, but told me he’d discovered that several of my ideas on other projects hadn’t been properly attributed to me. At first, I suspected Archer. While I was upset that he’d dare to interfere again, my heart also skipped a beat over the notion he still cared enough to meddle. But then Mr. Bishop added that after I’d wowed him with my presentation, he’d wondered why my history with the company was so lackluster.

Yeah, he’d used that phrase. Real gem, that guy. However, he’d compensated for his previous faults by combing through other projects that I’d worked on and noticed the contributions I’d made that he’d failed to see before. He’d also confronted Ron, who’d finally owned up to how much of the work had been mine.

Not that my ex would suffer any consequences—besides losing me, har-har—but my boss told me that from now on, I’d get my pick of projects and could also choose my own team.

A huge win—one that’d make the Penny from a month ago do cartwheels in the street. Somewhere deep inside of me, a thrill must exist over the news, along with a sense of pride over what I’d accomplished by giving a shout-out to my feminine nature, playing to my empathetic strengths, and using that to prove I was the woman for the job.

“Penny? Aren’t you going to take a seat?”

When had we gotten to the table?

Whatever. This was as good a place as any to mope the night away.

Pessimistic, for sure, but my optimistic side was buried beneath doubt, sorrow, and grief. I’d thought Archer was the one, and I couldn’t decide what hurt worse: that he didn’t believe in me, or that despite his lack of faith in my skills, I knew I’d never find another man who’d made me feel as accepted for who I was than him.

I propped my elbow on the table and plunked my cheek against my fist. “We can’t have it all. It’s bullshit. There are no other fish in the sea; only catfish who pretend to be something they’re not.”

Ellie and Cat exchanged glances and sighed. They both flagged down the waiter who passed by our table so fast that I’d laugh if I hadn’t lost the ability.

Ugh, my girlfriends were right. I needed to shake off this heartbreak, stat. The worst part about emotional pain was there was nothing for it but time.

Actually, make that time and booze.

Great. Now I was irrationally pissed at Archer for ruining the word actually.

My heart knotted so tightly the shattered shards dug deeper into the illogical organ with each beat. If I let that go on much longer, the damage would be irrevocable.

In the same way Bella loved Edward.

Tears formed, and I quickly blinked them back, refusing to cry over a fictional vampire, especially one who could out-glitter me any day. I sniffed and cleared my throat. “How about three wise men shooters, all around.”

Cat lifted a finger, requesting the waiter give us a second before pivoting in her seat to face me. “Ordinarily, I’d say that three men are the best way to get over one, but let’s start easy tonight. How about a margarita? Or a Rum and Coke?”

I narrowed my eyes at Cat as she requested three margaritas, not bothering to hide my suspicion. Her features remained beautiful and as serene as ever, so I directed my scrutiny toward Ellie; she couldn’t lie for shit. “What’s going on?”

Ellie studied her fingernails in the most intense way save anyone besides a nail technician would. “Nothing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely something.