I took my work keys off my key ring and gave them to Jensen’s assistant, who was supposed to be our assistant, but he bogarted all her time. She gave me a hug, assured me not to worry about her—she already had a line on a new job—and mentioned staying in touch, which I doubted but appreciated the thought.
My stomach growled, and I sighed. Maybe I had time to grab something in one of the Jade’s restaurants before anyone knew better than to give me the employee discount.
Shouldering my purse, I headed that way, weaving through the maze of singing slot machines and debating whether to call one of my other sisters. But their kids were younger, so they might be in the middle of bath and bedtime. I could text Brent, but he’d probably be in the same situation with his kiddo. Like Lynette, he’d make time to talk if I asked for it, but I didn’t want to be the person texting with drama.
That wasn’t my jam.
Funny. I’d never worried before what I would do in a big emergency, never doubting my friends and family would pull off a miracle for me if they had to. But keeping the day-to-day things—asshole bosses, car trouble, paper cuts—to myself doubled the lonely factor.
Too bad most of life was made up of the latter.
Though my thoughts were turned inward, my senses were tuned outward, because only the most naive tourists didn’t watch where they were going in a casino. My gaze snagged on a familiar couple before they spotted me—a willowy redhead holding hands with her tall, dark, and objectively handsome husband.
“Annalise! Michael!” I shouted with joy, like I hadn’t seen them in ages. They broke into twin smiles when they saw me flagging them down like an air traffic controller.
“Hey, Mindy. Good to see you,” Michael said, with Annalise adding, “You look fabulous.”
I didn’t feel fabulous, but I was grateful nonetheless.
My exuberance seemed out of proportion to the run-in, but it went with my out-of-proportion relief at seeing a pair of familiar faces. “You’re here!” It seemed I was taking a page from Lynette’s book and stating the obvious. “I mean, in Vegas.” I groaned silently and collected my scattered thoughts and emotions. “Also, I mean in the Jade, like a couple of conventioneers.” Taking a breath, I tried one more time. “I mean, I didn’t expect to see you, but it’s good to see you.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth. We were on our way to have dinner here and thought we’d find you and see if you wanted to join us.” Annalise kissed one cheek and the other, very continental, then gave me a proper American hug.
Michael smiled at his wife. He’d pined for the woman for eighteen years—until they reunited a little more than a year ago. Now, he was in mad love with her, and the look he gave her . . . For a moment, that rootless feeling gnawed at me again, and I longed for even a morsel of what they had.
He turned back to me. “What do you say, Gamble? Sushi at the Jade? The rainbow rolls are the best on the Strip, as someone once told me.”
He winked. That someone was me.
But in a heartbeat, all my out-of-place exuberance drained.
And I knew the answer to how it felt to lose a job. Flustered, mad, emotional, and like you wanted to cling to the familiar.
My emotions plummeted from the sky to the floor as I blurted, “Good thing you came tonight, then, since it’s my last day working here.”
“What’s this?” Annalise asked in surprise. “I know the Jade wasn’t all you’d hoped it would be. Have you decided to move on?”
My hum was ambiguous. I’d rather have let them go on and enjoy their dinner and not dump my drama on them, but I also didn’t want to hide the truth from my friends. I needed to let it out. “It wasn’t really my decision. Business politics, you know.”
Michael, frowning, nodded. “I hear you. Our industry has seen its fair share of revolving doors these days.” His tone was sympathetic—he may have been contemplating troubles of his own. He and Ryan ran a private security firm, and he knew how the merry-go-round of politics in our industry spun.
“What are you going to do? Want to talk about it over sake and edamame?” Annalise asked, tipping her forehead toward the sushi joint I loved.
Briefly tempted to join them, I took a step in that direction.
Then I stopped. “Actually, I am going to let you two enjoy your dinner.” I gave her another hug. “You can help me strategize later.”
“If you’re sure?” she asked.
“I’m sure.” Not only did the confidentiality agreement keep me from sharing in any detail, but I didn’t want to presume on our friendship that way.
Because when I pictured myself leaning on a friend’s shoulder, it was someone else I had in mind.
Someone I couldn’t stop thinking of.
He was the one I needed right now.
After I sent Michael and Annalise on their way, I took out my phone, starting a text.
Mindy: I could use a drink.
Mindy: And by “drink,” I mean a magic elixir that numbs your brain when you just found out you lost your job.
John: The hell? What moron would let you go from your job?
Mindy: Jensen.
John: Oh. Well. That’s the moron, then. What’s the reason?
Mindy: Do douchebags need a reason?
John: They never seem to.
Mindy: Besides, I wasn’t fired. My contract was terminated.
John: What a douchebag.
Mindy: Right?!? Maybe I don’t need a drink. Maybe I need to punch something.
John: Don’t text anything that can be used in court to show intent.
Mindy: What am I, new?
John: Okay, don’t text ME anything that would oblige me to interfere.
Mindy: I would never do that to you.
John: I know. I was joking.
Mindy: I don’t know if that’s sweet of you to say or sad for you that I couldn’t tell.
John: Pretty sure it can be both.
Mindy: Wait. Are you saying you know I wouldn’t do anything illegal or just that you trust me not to tell you about it?
John: . . .
Mindy: John?
John: Meet me at the gym in thirty.
Mindy: Make it forty. I have to change clothes.
As I re-read his texts, I caught myself almost smiling.
But not because of John.
Well, maybe a little because of John.
Because his humor—dry as it was—proved the world wasn’t ending simply because I’d lost my job. The people in my life were the same as they were yesterday, would treat me the same way they always had.
Pensively, I scrolled through the exchange, then up to the messages before them. Genial. Supportive. Friendly.