“Oh, yeah. Tons.” He smiled. “The beauty of how the chef makes them is that you don’t even taste it until it’s paired with the wine, but it’s there.” He smiled. “Brilliant, huh?”
“I need to go home.” I felt my throat itching and knew it was only going to get worse from there. “Now.”
“Well, do you want me to get you a cab?” he asked. “I’m suspending the town car service starting tomorrow anyway. Sorry that I didn’t include you on that email either.”
“A cab would be fine.”
He picked up his desk phone and handed it to me. “You don’t expect me to actually call it for you, do you?”
Later that night, I groaned as I held my phone’s camera up to my face. My lips were swollen, and my eyes were red and puffy.
“Here you go, bestie.” Ava placed a cold towel on my forehead. “If it makes you feel any better, my new job sucks. Like, I can’t even put into words how much I hate it.”
“I think I hate my new job, too,” I said. “Why is it so hard to find a good one?”
“Like I would know.” She laughed. “Anyway, your boyfriend stopped by the concierge desk today. Again.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Well, I ran into him on my way out, and he practically begged me to talk to him.”
“Preston Parker doesn’t beg for anything.”
“He was definitely begging.” She fluffed the pillow behind my head. “I told him you got sick at work. Like, actually sick. Not as in a ruse to get him to go away.”
She stepped away for a few seconds and returned with a silver tray of food. “He told me to contact Other Noodles and they flew this in while you were sleeping. Can you believe that?” She uncovered the tray, revealing chicken soup and gourmet crackers. There was also hot tea, ginger ale, and a note.
Feel better (and please answer one of my calls),
Preston
PS—Yes, the noodles are gluten-free.
PSS—I still wish that you were working for me, but I do appreciate the “Do it Your Goddamn Self” list.
“I’m not eating his apology food.”
“Yes, you are.” She handed me a spoon. “He also sent medicine, and Violet sent you a crayon drawing. Don’t ask me what it’s supposed to be, because I honestly can’t tell.”
I laughed and slowly sat up, sipping the soup. “After he talked to me the way he did in his office, would you give him a second chance?”
“Let’s see. What would I do if my former billionaire-boss got super mad at me for going to another hotel company and put me out of his office? If this is the same billionaire who cares about me, gives me good cock, and wants to be with me, while calling me every day and even sending gifts to my best friend just to get small updates about my life?” She tapped her chin. “No, I wouldn’t give him a second chance. I’d find another billionaire. They’re like a dime a dozen, you know?”
“Wait a minute. You’ve been giving him updates on me in exchange for gifts?”
“Of course not.” She covered the Cartier watch on her wrist. “What type of friend do you think I am?”
I picked up a pillow and tossed it at her. “A terrible one.”
“Give it some time and decide for yourself,” she said. “As lovesick as he’s acting, I’m sure he’ll wait as long as it takes.”
“He’s not lovesick, Ava. He’s just used to having me around to help him make decisions.”
“No, I’m pretty sure he cares about you just as much as you care about him.” She leaned against the doorframe. “You know, I believe that you hated him the first year or so, but after that, I’m not so sure. You kept showing up to work when you knew you had enough money in the bank, and you could’ve easily walked away.”
“For the umpteenth time, I was legally bound to do so.”
“You weren’t personally bound to do so.” She shrugged. “You could’ve stayed at home and never shown up. What would he have done?”
“Get out of my room.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Thirty-Eight
Preston
I set down my phone as my tenth call of the day went straight to Tara’s voicemail. I’d never called a woman this much and received nothing in return, and with her knowing all my ways to get to her, I wasn’t sure what I could do next. I couldn’t deny that my days were far less exciting without her, and in her absence, I spent way less time in my office.
Feeling a slight tug at my pants, I looked down and saw Violet toying with her new sports cup.
“Can you help me, Uncle Preston?” she asked.
I took it from her hands and adjusted the straw. “Here you go.”
“Thank you!” She smiled and let Bear have a sip. Then she looked up at me again. “I miss Tara.”
“Me, too.”
“Can she come play with us?”
“Let’s see.” I picked up my phone and called her friend Ava. I was done being patient.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Ava,” I said. “It’s Preston.”
“I know that. You just called me two hours ago—without a gift offer might I add, so I don’t have any new information for you.”
I laughed. “I’m not going another day without seeing her. Where is she?”
“She doesn’t work for you anymore.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“She also doesn’t love you anymore.”
“I wasn’t aware she loved me to begin with.”
“Well …” She gasped. “She didn’t. She hated you.”
“Please tell me where she is, Ava.”
“You’re not going to offer me a gift first?”
“The gift will be her not talking about me every night.”
“She doesn’t talk about you every night.” She paused. “Okay, no I would definitely like that. She’s at the 21 Roof Bar on Park Avenue. It’s a work event.”
“Thank you very much.”
“By the way, if you ever talk to her the way you did in your office again, I will get all my fashion friends and we will one star the hell out of all your hotels,” she said. “I will also hire someone to make sure that the next chocolate drop at the bottom of your Sweet Seasons coffee isn’t chocolate at all, if you catch my drift.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m promising you,” she said. “Now, get off my phone and go talk to the person you want to talk to.”
Thirty-Nine
Tara
To Whom It May Concern,
Thank you for the opportunity to work for your misogynistic brand. I’ve truly appreciated being treated like a second class—
“Miss Lauren?” My boss walked toward me, and I put away the first draft of my next two weeks’ notice. “Miss Lauren, I want to introduce you to Mr. Kline. This is the man who put on this event at a moment’s notice. Isn’t it grand?”