I shrug, unable to put a label on my feelings.
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You’re more than a CEO, Jameson. You deserve to be happy too. Why do you think it has to be one or the other?”
I frown, pained.
“Don’t let the love of your life walk away because you’re scared that you’re going to lose her.”
“It’s inevitable, Tristan . . . eventually, she will leave. Her hand will be forced.”
“And then what will you be?” he snaps. “A lonely, stressed-out, alcoholic CEO?”
My eyes rise to meet his.
“Oh, wait.” He gestures to my drink. “That’s already happening.” He shakes his head in disgust. “When I find my woman, I’ll move heaven and hell to keep her.”
“Get out.” I sigh. “You have no idea what you’re fucking talking about.”
“Actually, I’m kind of glad I’m getting to watch you fuck up your life,” he calls as he walks toward the door. “Now I know what not to do.”
I sip my scotch as the door slams hard behind him.
My buzzer on my desk sounds, and I push the button. “Yes, Sammia.”
“The detectives are here to see you, sir.”
I drain my glass . . . good, a distraction. “Thank you, send them in.”
Emily
“A toast.” Molly smiles as she holds her glass up.
Aaron and I hold our glasses up to touch hers.
“To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings,” we all repeat.
“You’re going to be great.” Aaron smiles. “You watch-you’ll be taking over the news floor within no time.”
We’re out to dinner in a bar and celebrating. I start my new job tomorrow. It’s been a week since I left Miles Media.
Feels like a lifetime ago.
I was going to go home and see my parents, but I just didn’t have the mental energy. I stayed home for some self-love instead. I needed time alone to lick my wounds and heal. I had a few massages, got some Reiki done to calm my heartache, ate healthy, and went for two runs a day to exhaust myself so that my body had no choice but to sleep at night.
I’m okay . . . empty, but doing okay.
I’ve stopped reading the paper so that I don’t have to see his name. On my runs, I go the other way so I don’t have to see the Miles Media building or restaurants or anything that would remind me of him or our time together.
Him . . .
I can’t even bring myself to say his name.
He’s been put into the vault, and nobody dares mentioning him to me. It’s like he never existed . . . and maybe he never did.
“What are you wearing tomorrow?” Molly asks as she cuts into her steak.
“I thought my navy suit.” I chew my food. “I want to look professional and smart.”
“No gray skirt?” Aaron smirks.
I wipe my mouth with my napkin. “I threw that fucker out.”
“What?” Molly shrieks. “I loved that skirt! I would have had it.”
“That was a troublemaking skirt,” I reply. “Trust me; you don’t want that kind of negativity in your life.”
“Here, here.” Aaron lifts his glass, and we clink again.
“Michael asked me out on a date on Saturday night,” Molly says casually.
My knife and fork hit the plate with a clang as my eyes rise to meet hers. “What?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know what to make of it, really.”
“Did he ask you out for a casual dinner? Are you sure it’s a date?” Aaron frowns.
“No, his exact words were, ‘Would you like to come out on a date on Saturday night?'”
I smile. “Are you going to go?”
“I don’t know.” She sighs. “So much water has passed under the bridge between us. We’ve just got to a place of trust and friendship again. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“By fucking him?” Aaron smirks as he bites into his food.
“Well, if I did fuck him, and he didn’t use double Viagra on me, I would be mortally offended. I know what tricks he has in his toolbox now.”
We all giggle.
“God, that night was funny,” I add, remembering him passing out from all the blood in his dick.
Molly rolls her eyes. “For you, maybe.”
We fall silent as we eat.
“Good luck for tomorrow, babe,” Aaron says.
“Thanks, guys.” I smile. “You are the best two things about New York.”
“God, you’re so right,” Molly mutters into her glass. “And these margaritas.” She raises her glass to show me. “So should I go out with Mike?”
“Yes,” Aaron and I gasp. “Go.”
“Emily.” Athena smiles as she wraps her arms around me. “It’s so good to see you. Welcome.”
“Hi.” I smile nervously.
“You’re going to love it here.” She pulls me through the office by the hand. “Here is your office.”
I smile, surprised. “I get my own office?”
“Of course you do.”
I look around the little office. It’s definitely no management top floor, but it suits me just fine. There’s a window and a desk and a chair in the corner. It’s kind of homey. I turn to her. “Thank you for taking me on. I am so grateful.”
Athena smiles and rubs my arm. When I called her asking for a job, she never once asked what happened with Miles Media or my relationship with Jameson. But I know that she knows that I’m probably broken with nowhere else to go, and running home with my tail between my legs isn’t an option.
She’s right.
I’m going to make it up to her; I’m going to be the best damn reporter that she has ever had.
“I’ll leave you to it.” She smiles. “Staff meeting at ten to introduce you to everyone. We have welcome doughnuts.”
I smile. “Thanks, that would be great.”
She disappears down the corridor, and I take a seat at my new desk and look around the lonely space.
I miss Molly and Aaron . . . and the buzz of Miles Media.
Jameson
“With this projection here, the forecast is a growth of ten percent over the next eighteen months.” Harrison from finance taps the graph on the projector whiteboard as he addresses the board meeting.
The table is alive with chatter and enthusiasm. The comeback strategy from the drama over the last four months is alive and well.
Me . . . I’m miles away.
I can’t concentrate . . . I can’t think . . . I feel like I can’t breathe.
Maybe I’m not okay.
Emily started her new job today, and I wanted to call her and wish her luck.
I couldn’t sleep thinking about it and even picked up the phone a few times. I drop my head.
But what’s the point . . .
I wonder if she ran this morning. Did she wear her runners that she said have motors on them? I smile softly to myself as I remember Elliot thinking I was talking about Zuckerberg having the motorized runners.
Idiot . . .
I twist in my chair to stretch my back. I need a massage.
Emily doesn’t like me getting massages. I think back to the kind of massages I used to get, and it seems like another lifetime ago.
BE-Before Emily . . . stop it.
“Jameson will be addressing that in the morning.”
I look up, lost. What are they talking about?
The board members around the table all stare at me as they wait for my reply. My eyes flick to Tristan for guidance.
“When you fly to Seattle tonight.” He raises his eyebrows as a gentle reminder.
“Yes.” I nod. “That’s right.”
Tristan is limping me through work at the moment, well aware of my state of mind.
The meeting continues, and I sip my water to try and bring my mind back to where it needs to be. This isn’t good enough, Jameson.
Focus.
I walk onto the plane.
“Good evening, Mr. Miles. Your seat is here, sir. 1A.”
“Thank you.” I fall into the seat in the front row of first class.