I took a deep breath and a big gulp of wine, then dove headfirst into telling her the entire story, leaving out the finer details of our time in bed. When I was finished, she was sitting on the edge of her seat, mouth open.
“A prince. And you couldn’t cut him any slack when things got busy?” Carolyn raised her eyebrows in mock dismay.
I gave her a pointed look. “You’ve dumped guys for less.”
“You’re right,” she said, sitting back and swirling the remainder of her wine in her glass. “So…what are you going to do now that the fairy tale is over?” Her eyes danced at her little joke.
I gave her a nudge with my foot and snorted. “Some fairy tale.”
“Really, though. Are you just going to go back to business as usual here in the city?”
“That’s the plan. Except…”
“Except what?”
“I might have screwed up my chances at Colton-Hayes.”
Carolyn laughed, a pure sound. “Let me guess—you told them you were taking a vacation at about the same time you told me?”
I screwed my mouth into a twisted grin, shaking my head.
“You didn’t tell them at all?”
“I didn’t tell them at all.”
She laughed again and wagged a finger at me. “You have to tell people when you want to quit your job, Jessica. Ghosting is for men, not for jobs.”
“I know, I know. I didn’t plan it, I just—.”
“You just got swept up on a romantic escapade with the hottest man you ever laid eyes on.”
One last sip, and I’d drained my wine glass.
“Well, like I said, I’m done with all that. I just need to find another gig. Speaking of which…” I fluttered my eyelashes at her as she leaned forward to pour herself another glass.
“You know perfectly well that I’ll get you an interview someplace. I can’t promise you’ll like it more than Colton-Hayes, though.” Carolyn listened to me vent about my job at least once weekly. Now that I don’t work there anymore, everything I had complained about all of a sudden didn’t seem so bad after all. And yet…
“I’m sure it’ll be just fine. I’ll be committed this time. I’ll do my best damn job ever.”
Carolyn leans over and pats my leg. “I’m sure you will.”
She didn’t waste any time making right on her promise, which is why less than three days later, I’m sitting in the lobby of Heights Marketing, Inc. wearing a designer skirt suit I borrowed from Carolyn just this morning. It’s perfect attire for my interview, but I’m going to need to invest some of my savings into freshening up my own wardrobe. If I’m going to make it in this city, I need to rely less on my friends and more on myself.
The large picture window in the lobby looks out over the bustling New York streets, and as the seconds tick by, I watch people come and go. Something slowly occurs to me.
I can’t stay here.
“Oh, stop it,” I think to myself. “This kind of bullshit is exactly what started the whole series of events that got your heart broken in the first place.”
But I can’t stop thinking about it. The truth is, I’m never going to feel the same way about this city again.
Because this city was where I met Alec.
Even this morning, as I was walking to the subway, I found myself looking at the faces of the people I passed by on the sidewalk just in case one of them was Alec, and that he’d come back here, looking for me.
He’s not going to come back here.
I just know that if I stay, I’ll always be looking for him.
He’s the one that got away, never mind that I was the one who actually left.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m walking over to speak to the receptionist sitting behind the desk.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, and she looks up from her computer, reaching one hand up to click the mute button on her headset.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, my voice more confident this time. “I need to cancel my interview with Mr. Bolt.”
“He’ll be with you in just a moment—.”
“It’s not that. And please pass along that I was very thankful for the opportunity to meet with him.” I take a deep breath. “Unfortunately, today’s not going to work out.” I smile at her, and then turn to head for the door.
Just then, the door to an office located across the lobby opens behind me, and a man calls, “Ms. Reeves?”
“I’m sorry,” I say over my shoulder in passing, giving a wave. As I step into the waiting elevator and press the down button, I see the receptionist standing, saying something to the man who must be Mr. Bolt.