no surprise that I was on the short list to interview with The Duke that very afternoon.
This was also why I prayed for a quick end to my nausea. I didn’t want to barf all over the most eccentric rock star of our time.
My alarm continued to blare from my bedroom, waking from its second snooze cycle. I groaned as I buried my face in my arms, hovering over the one place a face should never be.
Fern opened the door. “You look miserable,” she commented, stating the obvious as usual. “You want me to get you anything?”
“A new stomach,” I groaned without even lifting my head.
I heard her turn on the faucet. Before I knew what was happening, she was on the floor next to me, bathing my face with a cool damp washrag. “You want me to call in for you?”
“No!” I said sharply, raising my head. I immediately groaned because the world spun around me. “I can’t miss today. Today is the day.”
“You really think he’s going to let you anywhere near that ridiculous castle of his when you’re practically green with the flu?”
My bloodshot eyes met hers. “You really think it’s the flu?”
She shrugged as she continued to bathe my face. “What else could it be? What did you eat last night?”
I thought back. Realization dawned at the same time for both of us as we said together, “The Sushi Shack.”
“Oh, no,” I groaned again, putting my head back in my arms.
She continued to bathe my forehead. “We pay for the things we love,” she offered sagely. “You really should call in, Pea.”
“No,” I said, once again lifting despite the world spinning. I took the rag from her and bathed my own face, focusing on my cheeks and my neck. “I’ve got this. There’s no way I’m going to give Christopher a chance to steal this away from me on account of some bad fish.”
She rolled her eyes but nodded. There was only one person on planet Earth who knew about my complicated relationship with Christopher Tyler, and that was my sister Fern.
Christopher was the reigning Dude Bro of Headliner Pulse. He was the one who hit on (almost) all the girls. He was the one who made the sexist or racist jokes, then hid it behind a charming smile and “Just kidding! Don’t take things so personally!”
As if it was our fault that he was an asshole.
He was also the first one to pounce all over near tabloid type stories just so we could keep one step ahead of our nemesis PING, the tabloid vultures who made regular sport of the rich and famous.
“Why don’t you just go work for PING?” I said one day after a meeting, when he was extolling the virtues of their ambush style of journalism.
“When they make me an offer I can’t refuse, I will,” he assured with that damnable smirk that made me want to kick him in the teeth.
That was Christopher. Always looking for the bigger, better deal. Status meant a lot to him, judging by the car he drove, the clothes he wore, and the women he dated.
Our relationship had always been contentious because I’ve never been his type: the perfect girl with the young face and perfect body, and willingness to do anything to attract his favor. I was too avant-garde, with my oft-changing look, my many tattoos and piercings — not to mention my thirty or so extra pounds that just wouldn’t go anywhere, no matter how many workout videos I did with my super-fit sister.
I was built for comfort, not speed.
At nearly 30, I was already aged past my prime as far as he was concerned. Like many Dude Bros, he preferred them as close to eighteen as possible. He wanted them fresh off the factory floor, not because he was a sick perv who wanted the body of a kid, but rather a controlling shithead who wanted the mind of one. Older women like me saw right through his bullshit, which was why I was the one who constantly busted his balls on his frat humor and competed with him toe-to-toe on any challenge that reared its ugly head.
About a month ago, that included a drinking game at a local baseball game where our company happened to have box seats. What started as a team-building exercise ended with a not-so-friendly game of Never Have I Ever, where we outlasted most of the coworkers in our zeal to win. It lingered on to our shared