"Britt, Dale and I are over. Dale and I are finished. Dale and I cannot be resurrected from the grave. But that has nothing to do with you and me. And I can't keep talking about him. I'd like to talk about the amazing success the app is having, or the tons of publicity it's receiving. Or maybe if you're going to LARP this weekend, since you didn't last weekend. Or maybe this cherry picking obsession of yours. But not Dale. Okay?"
She nods, understanding dawning, and opens her mouth to speak, when my assistant walks in carrying two bouquets of roses.
"Trash them," I say before she makes it to my desk.
I will not cry. I will not fucking cry.
"They're from Dale-"
"I said trash them," I tell her again, watching as her eyes widen and she hurriedly shuffles out of my office.
Britt is measuring me with a studious look when my eyes meet hers again.
"What?"
"You said you don't want to speak about Dale. So I can't tell you what I'm thinking, if that's what you're asking."
I blow out a breath.
"Lunch," I tell her, and she stands and walks out, acting defeated.
Two hours later, my nervous assistant walks in with a bright red face and a half-ripped box.
"What?" I ask her, groaning.
"This just arrived, but it was damaged, and … bottles of this were spilling out behind me. I didn't notice. I'm not sure how many are missing. I'm so, so sorry, Ms. Hayden. I'll try to find them all."
My eyebrows go up as she quickly puts the box down and sprints out of my office. Unfortunately, I know why she's so red. The case full of Anal Ease is spilling out tubes all over my desk.
And apparently there's a metaphorical breadcrumb trail of them leading people to my office.
I know he didn't do this on purpose, but I'm half tempted to release Vivica at this moment.
In Titan times, releasing Vivica would be the equivalent of shouting, "Release the Kraken!" Insert lightning strikes and ominous thunder here.
Fortunately for him, Vivica had a work thing in Arizona she had to attend to.
The day drags on, and lunch ends up being a miss with Britt, since I'm so swamped and throwing myself deeper into my work as a lovely coping mechanism. By the end of the day, I'm just ready to get the hell out of here.
But I don't want to be alone …
And my only friend is in another state.
My eyes catch a flash of red as I'm walking out, and I see Britt struggling to get her keys out of her purse.
Taking a deep breath, I walk over to her. "I have a bottle of wine you're too young to drink, which only leaves more for me. Want to come watch me drink it and play some video games?" I ask her.
A smile spreads across her face. "Yeah. I do."
****
"Princesses," I say to Britt's question.
"You got into gaming because of princesses?" she asks, confused.
"Some form of fantasy always drags you in. Like yours was superheroes, and now you're getting fitted for your own elf ears."
She grins and turns toward the TV, slicing through zombies like she's played this game a thousand times.
"My favorite princess was Cinderella," I continue, though my voice is quieter.
"Why?" she muses, using all the cheat codes she's memorized.
"Because I related to her the most. Sentenced to one section of the house where no one else had to see me when it was inconvenient. Evil stepmother who ruled the house in the absence of the father; though my father's absence wasn't a physical one. I only had one evil stepsister, but that was plenty. A fairy godmother made Cinderella beautiful, and everyone finally saw her. Actually saw her. Then the prince took her away from all her pain and gave her the life of her dreams. How could I not fall in love with fantasy after that? It gave me hope."
A small, nostalgic smile tugs at my lips, even as more pain lances my heart.
We defeat the level, and I pause the game as she studies me. I decide to go on.
"I finally realized that only the beautiful girls get a prince. So I became my own knight in shining armor, and I had to fight for myself instead of waiting for someone to do it for me." Just to lighten the suddenly heavy air, I add, "And since fairy godmothers don't really pop out and make you beautiful, I learned to work with what I have."
She looks down, studying the floor like it's fascinating. I was expecting a laugh or something.
"I didn't hear any fairytales growing up. Dane introduced me to all of that after I met him."
"No fairytales at all?"
She shrugs. "The good homes give you fairytales," she says with a soft smile. "The check-cashing homes don't allow much room for fairytales, because that would incite too much hope."
I open my mouth to speak, when someone starts knocking wildly on my front door. My entire body tenses. The knock doesn't sound as harsh and loud as Dale's usual knock, but no one else would be knocking.
When I don't answer, I hear a feminine voice call through it. "Harley? I need in! I have wine, but it's slipping!"
Rain?
"Let me in too!"
Tria?
Confused, I rush to the door, swinging it open as they both stumble in, loaded down with wine and pizza. Tria's holding the pizza.
I quickly grab a few bottles of wine from Rain, and she sighs in relief before flashing a smile at me.
"What are-"
"Britt?" I hear Tria ask in surprise.
I round the corner with the wine in tow and Rain on my heels as Britt grabs pizza from one of the four-four!?-boxes Tria is carrying. Now, I realize I can eat some pizza, but four?
"We thought you could use some wine and stuff, and we figured we'd drink with you," Tria says as though she's explaining.
Before I can say anything, someone else starts knocking.
What is going on?
I go to the door, and Bella walks in with Allie as though this happens daily.
"Man, I smell pizza. Goes good with wings," she says, winking as she carries in two monster bags that might possibly have wings in them.
I blink at her, confused.
"Don't look surprised to see me," Bella says with a daring grin. "I pulled a silver bullet out of your ass. We've already established that I'm bestie material. And I-"
"I brought vodka," Allie says, smiling at me as she holds the bottle up, stopping Bella from rattling on more.
I really like Allie.
"One shot of vodka and she'll be giving you a lap dance," Bella stage-whispers, causing Allie to roll her eyes. "I'll just drink my motherfucking flavored water," Bella adds in a surly tone.
Allie holds up the flavored water packets and wags it in front of a scowling Bella.
I don't have time to process what they're saying, because when I try to close the door, it pushes back open, and Brin walks in with Raya. Raya is carrying a crate of wine-how much wine do they need?!-and Brin is hauling in what looks like a huge chocolate cake.
"All the essentials for a girls' night in and wallowing," Brin states matter-of-factly.
I tense, realizing what's going on now. Raya elbows her and groans, and Brin's eyes widen.
"What? It's true! I couldn't eat real food when Rye broke me, but I could put away some chocolate like it was no one's business."
Raya offers me a sympathetic grimace, struggling under the weight of the crate. I move so she can walk on by, joining the others.
I poke my head outside, making sure there's no one else, and shut the door. Then lock it. Then peer out the window before walking into the madhouse of women that are now in my living room.
"So … you're here for me to wallow," I say, taking in Brin's words.
Someone knocks again, but Britt goes to answer it this time.
"We're here to get drunk with you while the men take care of the kids," Rain says. "Most of us could use a good girls' night."
"And for once we don't have to worry about the guys crashing it," Tria goes on, smiling at me like she's saying something good. Then grimaces when she realizes what she actually said.
I force a smile I don't feel for her sake, because I know she didn't mean to stick her pretty foot in her mouth.
"Oh! Video games," I hear Ruby say from behind me as she walks in with Britt leading and Bo and Ash on her heels.
Ash gives me a small smile and a gentle hand squeeze on her way by. Apparently we're getting drunk, since they're already getting started.
Rain sidles up beside me, sipping her wine. "Have you seen your father's face?" she asks quietly, but keeps her eyes pointed toward the other girls.
"What?" I ask, confused.
She lifts her phone, showing me an image of my father, only his face is bruised and swollen. "Saw him as he was heading to the hotel yesterday. He almost bumped into me on the sidewalk."
"So you took a picture of his face?"
I've never seen my father look so out of sorts or furious. You can see the anger in his eyes.
She shrugs. "I needed to see if I was right. I took a picture, which he didn't like, then showed it to Dale and asked if it was his handiwork."
My heart stumbles. "What?" I croak.
She nods absently. "He wouldn't answer, but I know it was him."
I'm not sure if she knows why we're not together, but I decide to tell her, mostly because I need to know if I'm wrong or not.