“There’s still a Code of Conduct. In that all-staff meeting the other day, he was going on and on about the importance of integrity and decency.”
“You know as much as I do that it’s all lip service. And I cannot have you giving the Hatchlings a hard time, all right? Because they’ll go complain to Vijay, and then life will become very difficult for the both of us.”
I snorted. “I’m sure it won’t be that difficult for you.”
“What does that mean?” He leaned forward in his seat and scowled. “You think these Hatchlings are any nicer to me than they are to you?”
“I do, actually. That is, when they can find you, since you have the luxury of hiding out in the server room while I’m out on the floor, dealing with their complaints and abuse.”
His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared and I knew I had taken it too far. After a stony silence that lasted seconds but felt like hours, he threw up his hands. “All I suggested was that you take a little vacation. I’m just trying to look out for you, but you do what you want. Now go fix that laptop—and this time, uninstall the keylogger.”
“Fine.” I flung his door open and stalked down the hall, boiling over with rage. How dare Bob suggest that the solution to my problem with Hatch’s messed-up broflake culture was a vacation? A couple of nights in a hotel wouldn’t help me “get over it.” It would only plunge me further into debt, and at the end, I’d come back to the same terrible work environment.
Back in my cubicle, I tossed Josh’s laptop into the corner and collapsed with my head in my hands. I was fighting an uphill battle here, one I had no chance of ever winning. I wanted out, but I couldn’t afford to up and quit my job without a backup plan.
Whit had this master marketing scheme all sketched out for JerkAlert, but frankly, I was getting antsy. The proof of JerkAlert’s popularity was in the numbers on my dashboard. Investors cared about facts and figures, not crafty sales tactics. How much longer did I have to wait to cash in?
My phone buzzed once, twice, waking me from my mind-wandering. I pulled it out of my purse and found a chain of messages from the girls:
LIA:
I can’t even believe what is happening.
DANI:
What is it? Are you okay?
LIA:
I found out last night that Jay has been lying to me this whole time.
LIA:
He’s married, guys.
DANI:
WTF
WHIT:
Fucker.
LIA:
He has two kids and a house in New Jersey.
DANI:
Holy shit.
WHIT:
Of course he’s from Jersey. That state is crawling with assholes.
LIA:
I don’t even know what to do. I’m freaking out.
DANI:
Okay. Stay calm.
WHIT:
Don’t stay calm. Burn the fucker’s house down.
DANI:
DON’T LISTEN TO HER.
DANI:
When do you get off work?
LIA:
I couldn’t handle work today. I’m at home in my pajamas wondering how I could’ve been so stupid.
WHIT:
You’re not stupid. Men are assholes.
DANI:
Let us come over tonight. I’ll bring wine. And edible cookie dough.
WHIT:
Ooh, from that place near NYU?
DANI:
Yes.
LIA:
Don’t bother. I can’t eat. I can’t do anything right now but cry and stare at the wall.
DANI:
Just hang tight for another few hours. We’ll be there as soon as we can and we’ll make this all better.
WHIT:
Mel, are you in?
As I read through the thread, I alternated between feeling heartsick for Lia and furious with men in general.
What I didn’t feel, though, was surprised.
MEL:
I’m off at 5 and I’ll come straight to your place.
MEL:
I’m so sorry this is happening, Lia.
My chest tightened, my jaw clenched. Of all the people this could’ve happened to, why Lia? She was ceaselessly optimistic, always assuming good intentions. She believed in happily-ever-afters, and she believed everyone deserved one. And now, her own happily-ever-after was in ruins.
Because sometimes the greatest man in the world could turn out to be a dirty, dirty cheat.
19
After work, I jetted to Lia’s place in Chinatown, stopping along the way at a discount liquor store to pick up a cheap bottle of Cabernet. When I got there, Dani answered the door and whispered a warning. “She’s kind of a disaster.”
“Understandably.”
“No, you don’t get it. I’ve never seen her like this before.”
I held out the bottle of wine. “Maybe this’ll help?”
Dani shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t get her to eat or drink anything. Not even the cookie dough.”
“Ooh. What flavors did you get?”
“Chocolate Dream and Fluffernutter. I waited on a forty-five-minute line for that dough and she won’t even taste it.”
“I’ll give it a good home.” I gestured inside the apartment. “Shall we?”
We entered the living room, where Lia was on the couch, curled into the fetal position atop a nest of blankets and balled-up tissues. She stared at the wall, her eyes vacant and dull, not even turning to acknowledge me when I said, “Hey.”
Dani was right; I’d never seen Lia so bereft. If I ever ran into Jay, I’d strangle him with my bare hands.
“How are you?” I asked, even though the answer was obvious.
She let out a heavy, hiccuping sigh. “I thought he was the one.”
Her voice caught on the final syllable as she broke into a fit of sobs. I placed the wine on the coffee table and sat beside her on the couch, stroking her back and making soothing shushing sounds.
“What is wrong with me?” she wailed. “Why couldn’t I see him for what he really was?”
Dani knelt on the floor in front of her. “This is not your fault.”