Sure.
Cool. See you soon.
I left the penthouse and met them at the restaurant. They were already sitting together in the booth when I walked in and joined them. They were still in the honeymoon phase even though they’d been married for almost three months now. His arm was around her, and he leaned in and kissed her as his hand discreetly moved down to squeeze her tit.
She chuckled against his mouth then smacked his hand away. “Ryan.”
“Sorry, it’s just a habit.”
I ignored the inappropriate behavior and waved down the waitress so I could order a beer. “Maybe I should have walked in a few minutes later…”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Ryan said. “I usually grab her boob every twenty minutes.”
Camille rolled her eyes.
“What?” Ryan asked innocently. “I married them. I can grab them when I want.”
“That is not how this works,” Camille said. “How would you feel if I just grabbed your dick all the time?”
Ryan grinned.
“Oh, never mind.” Camille grabbed her cocktail and took a drink.
Ryan waggled his eyebrows. “Grab it right now, baby.”
She smacked his arm again.
“Come on, I love your hand jobs—”
She cupped her hand over his mouth. “Will you shut up?”
With her hand still over his mouth, he shook his head.
She turned back to me. “Then I guess I’ll have to leave it here all night.”
Ryan raised his hand and grabbed her boob again.
“Oh my god.” She smacked his hand.
I chuckled as I watched them. “Should I leave or…?”
“No,” Ryan said. “I don’t care if you watch me grope my wife. And if you get off on it, then maybe I can charge you.”
“I don’t think he needs to pay for that when he’s fucking supermodels every weekend.” Camille took another drink of her cocktail.
“Even if I weren’t, I’m good.” The waitress brought my beer, so I took a drink.
“So, you’re still doing that?” Ryan asked. “The club scene every week…all that.”
I nodded.
“And that’s it?” Ryan asked. “Just…the same thing forever?”
Camille stared at me like she waited for an answer.
“What else am I supposed to do?” I grabbed the menu and pulled it closer so I could read it.
“Then that means Emerson is really gone?” Ryan asked tentatively. “I just thought, maybe you’d get back together.”
“Stop asking me about Emerson.” I was officially fed up. “We’ve been broken up for almost three months now. It’s over. It’s done. I’ve moved on.”
Camille and Ryan exchanged a silent look before they let it go. “Got it.” Ryan grabbed his menu and took a look. “I’ve got to get the jalapeno poppers. So good.”
“If you eat those, you won’t be eating anything else later.” Camille held the menu in front of her face as she checked out the selections.
“Oh, good point.” Ryan took another look. “We’ll do the appetizer quesadilla, instead. Then I’ll get a burger.”
It amazed me how much Ryan ate but still kept trim in his thirties. “I’m going to do the Caesar salad.”
“Speaking of Rome.” Ryan dropped his menu. “We booked our trip. We’re going at the end of May.”
“We’re soooo excited,” Camille said. “Thank you so much.”
“Great,” I said. “I’m happy for you guys.”
“We’re going before the crowds,” Ryan said. “You know, because I like to grope my wife in public.”
Camille rolled her eyes, but the action was accompanied by a smile.
We talked about their upcoming trip for a while before the conversation moved back to me.
“How’s the next book coming along?” Ryan asked.
“I haven’t started.” I hadn’t given it any thought at all. “In fact, I got an email from my publisher, asking for an update.”
“What did you say?” Ryan asked.
“Nothing.” I drank from my beer again.
“You can just do that?” Ryan asked. “Ignore them?”
“I’ve just been busy with the new internship program, my classes, shit like that.” I didn’t want to write the book anyway. Even though the last book was really successful, I just had no drive. It was like I’d forgotten about the characters.
“But you can’t ignore them forever, right?” Ryan asked. “What will they do?”
I shrugged. “I hold all the cards, so there’s nothing they can do. They either wait until I’m done or blow up my inbox. I don’t give a damn.”
“Wow.” Ryan turned to Camille. “I wish I could act like that at work. That’d be nice.”
“I don’t,” Camille said with a laugh. “Because we need to pay rent. And if we don’t pay rent, no more titties.”
“Oh shit,” Ryan said. “Maybe I should go for the employee of the year thing. then.”
“If it comes with a raise?” Camille turned to him. “Then you can grab them in public all you want.”
He turned to me and grinned. “Ooh, I’m on it.”
On Sunday morning, my dad texted me. Hey, you think you could come over for dinner tonight? We have something we want to talk to you about.
I can’t tonight. Maybe next week. He’d asked me a couple times, but I really had a lot going on. I felt like I was busier than ever, like I was spread too thin.
Alright. Can we lock it in next week? I’d really like to see you.
Sure. I’ll see you then.
8
Emerson
The call I’d been waiting all day for finally came.
I was in the corporate office when I answered. “This is Emerson.”
“Hello, Emerson. This is Sheila from the Lambert Firm.”
“Thanks for calling. I hope you have some good news for me.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t. We actually filled the position. But you were one of our top picks.”
I lowered myself into the chair behind the desk and felt the disappointment hit me hard. I was so fucking tired of getting so close to landing these jobs and then being edged out by somebody else. I’d tried to go back to my old publisher, but that bridge had been burned when they gave me a position and I declined it later…when Derek asked me to stay. Now I was in the job market competing with a bazillion people. I bet I would have a better chance if I could get a recommendation from Derek, but I refused to ask. It would probably be generic and empty anyway. Literally useless. “I understand. Thank you for calling.”
“We had a lot of applicants for the position, so don’t feel too bad.”
“No, I understand. Thank you.” I hung up and sighed loudly, so frustrated that I was stuck in a job I hated with a man I despised. All the jobs with incomes even remotely close to mine were being filled by people more qualified than me, and I kept getting screwed over. “I wish I’d never started here.” I was alone in the office, but I said the words out loud…even though no one was listening. “I wish I’d never met Derek fucking Hamilton.”