both of us to live in. The landlord is still making us pay rent on the ruined unit, even though we can’t live in it because he said we’ll have to forfeit it if we don’t!”
“That is criminal,” Elsie said, narrowing her eyes.
“I don’t have any other options. It’s put up with it or move to New Jersey. And my commute is already long enough.”
“It’s shorter now that you live at your husband’s house,” Brea said as she poured fudge over a bowl of ice cream for me.
“I’m supposed to be on a diet.”
“Please! Your tits look awesome!” Amy assured me, handing me a spoon. “Besides, you didn’t get laid. That means you need sugar and chocolate!”
The hot fudge sundae was good.
Not as good as making out with Chris. God, I bet he would be good in bed…
Melted ice cream dribbled down my chin.
“Crap,” I said, hastily wiping it up.
“I’m putting condoms in your camera bag,” Elsie said flatly.
“I’m not—I don’t need those!”
“You have the eyes of a sex-starved woman,” Sophie said. “We are enabling you to make good decisions.”
“I’ve been looking up Chris online,” Brea added. “The dude is a legit manwhore. Here’s a blog dedicated to all the women he’s been with.”
I winced as Brea held up her phone, scrolling through it in front of me.
At the top was Addison. The caption read that the picture had been taken right after their engagement had been announced. Addison looked stunning on Chris’s arm. They were a perfect pair. She was tall and lithe, while he was handsome and ripped. I pushed the ice cream around in the bowl.
“You’re so much better than that bridezilla,” Sophie assured me. “Chris didn’t marry her, right? He married you!”
“Not on purpose,” I reminded them, deciding to hell with it, I was eating the rest of my snack. “He doesn’t even like me.”
“He likes you enough to fuck your brains out!”
“You better make sure you put the big condoms in her bag,” Ivy told Elsie.
“I need Chris and me to have a clean break,” I said, moving my hands apart. “Did we all forget how he has the potential to ruin our company?”
“I talked to a lawyer friend of mine,” Elsie said. “Chris is going to have a hard time arguing that he helped increase the business value. In fact, I’m planning on doing some tricky accounting to make it look like we lost money this quarter just in case.”
“Can we increase our snack budget?” Brea asked happily.
Elsie made a face.
“Snacks! Snacks! Snacks!” my friends chanted.
Ivy’s phone went off, and she jumped up, squealing. “Evan is the best!”
A part of me wondered if he bought her a boat or a unicorn or something. I tried not to be envious of my friends who had wealthy boyfriends. After all, I had benefited from it since Evan had gifted Ivy our office space, and now we no longer had to meet in coffee shops. But I was still ever so slightly jealous that Ivy and Brea, who was with Mark Holbrook, had it so easy.
You are married to a billionaire.
Chris didn’t count. I wasn’t really in a relationship with him.
“Oh my God,” Ivy said, bounding over to me, waving her phone. “Check this out, Grace! I am your numero uno friend! I was telling Evan about your coffee-table book. Evan knows people in publishing, and he asked one of the publishers if they could schedule a meeting with you!”
I perked up. “Wow! That’s a huge deal!”
“You need to make sure you’re wearing something nice.”
“And have some sample spreads printed,” Sophie suggested. “We’ll have a meeting tomorrow to look over your presentation.”
Ivy chewed her lip. “They actually want to meet now.”
“Now, now?” I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing my basic black jeans and a loose black polo to hide the muffin top of stress.
“I can’t meet a publisher!”
“This is your big chance!” Amy insisted. “It’s New York City. You’re wearing black. You’ll be fine!”
It was not fine.
I was sitting in the nonfiction waiting room of the big New York publishing house. There were a number of other women in the room. I recognized them as former models and lesser-known actresses. Dressed to the nines in that understated New York way, they wore simple sculptural coats that if sold could pay off my college debt, carried luxury-brand handbags, and wore expensive, chic jewelry.
Meanwhile, I was rocking my slightly frayed camera bag.
I had hastily printed out some of my coffee-table sample pages at the office then