“Just one more bite,” she urges, like she’s talking to a child. “It will do you good.”
I appreciate her, I really do. But all I really want is to be alone. And maybe scream at the world, because it really isn’t fair.
She gives me the most sympathetic of smiles. “Maybe Roman will change his mind.”
“He won’t,” I say. “He’s already given it to Salinger.”
“Stupid dumbass nepo babies,” Gina mutters. And this is why I love her, because I know she doesn’t mean it. She likes Linc. Like most of the female employees at Hampshire PR, when he first arrived she had a crush on him.
Now it’s more of an admiration. And I know for a fact that she stalks him on Instagram. Because she insists on showing me all the beautiful women he dates in what seems like every city in the world.
That’s the beauty of his job. He flies wherever the business needs him. He can be in Paris one day, London the next, and then suddenly he’s on an airplane to Dubai. He rarely spends any time in New York, much to Gina’s – and everybody else’s – disappointment.
“I thought you liked him,” I say. Because she definitely runs to the bathroom to touch her lipstick up whenever he walks into the office.
“I don’t,” she tells me. “I just want to tear his clothes off and climb him like a tree.”
I’m not going to imagine him with his clothes off. I’m just not.
“So what do we do now?” she asks me. “Do you still get the account if they decide to give it to us?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. And that’s the most upsetting part of all. The Exuma project was supposed to be my opportunity to show Gold Leisure what I can do. With an aim to win all their PR and social media business across the US as well as Exuma.
It would guarantee me a job for life in Roman’s eyes. But now I don’t know if I’ll have one next week.
I take a deep breath. “We’re going to have to package everything we’ve worked on into a neat bow so we can pass it over to Salinger.”
Gina snaps her head to look at me. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I nod. Because yes, we’ve done all the work, but Salinger will take the glory.
“Maybe we should sabotage it,” she says, a wicked glint in her eye. “We could put subliminal messages in the videos.”
“What kind of subliminal messages?” I’m only humoring her, but right now I need something to make me smile. And if anybody can make me smile it's Gina.
She’s been my assistant for the last four years and nobody could ask for anybody better. She knows everything about me. She was there when I found out about my ex – Jared’s affair, and she was there when I filed for divorce.
When I need somebody to vent to, or a shoulder to cry on she’s always there. Gina is part of my very small circle of trust.
“I don’t know what messages, but I’ll think of something,” she promises.
I can’t tell if she’s kidding or not. Mary Beth, one of Salinger’s two assistants, walks past us and shoots us a look.
And I open my mouth to remind Gina that we’re better than that, and that we’re all supposed to be on the same team, but then my phone rings.
Zoe’s name lights up on the screen.
There aren’t many people that I rush to answer. I much prefer to write a message than talk on the phone. Unlike Linc Salinger, I’m not always great with a speedy answer. I need to think about things before I respond and messages help with that.
But this is my daughter. And at thirteen years old she calls a lot.
“I’ll just get this,” I tell Gina, leaving her to her evil plans for retaliation as I walk into my office. It’s small but perfectly formed. Gina’s desk is right outside – she pretty much acts as my gatekeeper. And my feeder, if the stash of candy bars in her drawer is anything to go by.
“Hey honey,” I say after closing the door and swiping the screen to accept Zoe’s call. “Is everything okay?” I glance at my watch. It’s almost five o’clock. This week she’s at her dad’s. We share custody. It’s supposed to be fifty-fifty, but it never is.
“Dad’s late,” she tells me. “And I can’t get ahold of him. He’s not answering my calls.”
I let out a long breath. I shouldn’t be surprised. This isn’t the first time he’s left her stranded, and it probably won’t be the last.