Page 10 of Take It Offline

CHAPTER 5

AN EX-ISTENTIAL CRISIS

EMMA

Saturdays are sacred.

An hour of Ivy and me sweating our way through a weekly Pilates class, followed by an even longer gossip session over lattes.

But today? Today is special.

As of this morning (and half of this month’s salary), my parents are officially debt free, so Ivy and I have come to Mint. Sure, I could eat for a week on what the chicken piccata costs, and the combination of moss-myrtle-lime décor is making my eyes sore, but the food is so good that I can almost,almost, forgive the pretentious atmosphere.

“That’s ridiculous,” Ivy groans, stabbing her fork into her mesclun salad. “You’ve earned that job four times over.”

“I know.” I exhale out the frustration. I lay my napkin over my plate and thank the waiter who comes to collect it. “And don’t even get me started on Charlie.”

Months of hard work unrecognized, but apparently, it’s not Charlie’s fault because “boys will be boys.” The scream I want to let out could probably count as a renewable resource.

“At least he apologized.”

It’s true. Those are words I never thought I’d hear from him. Though I’m not sure how to feel about it. I should accept it, but the memory of being passed over still stings like an ice burn on the tip of my tongue.

A better person would forgive and forget.

But I’m not ready.

How can a simple apology make up for what he did?

Why does forgiveness feel more like a sacrifice than a blessing?

“You know, he and I started at the same time,” Ivy says. “No one has a bad word to say about him.”

“Of course they don’t. Apparently, I’m the only one he’s rude to.”

It’s dangerous to let Charlie get under my skin, but I can’t help it. He couldn’t even say sorry without insulting me. And when he brought up money, all I wanted was to hurt him back.

There’s no way Charlie could know how deep that cut runs. The whole point of giving up everything I had was to ensure no one found out how much trouble my parents were in.

To the rest of the world, I’m still the perfectly privileged daughter on a field trip to see how the 99 percent live.

Truth is, I love my job. I wouldn’t give it up for all the zeros in the world.

“Emma?”

I turn at the sound of the familiar voice, a thrill running through me.

Logan Williamson Cross.

Ex-boyfriend. Manager of special projects (a.k.a. fancy intern) at his dad’s firm. Can usually be found enjoying a meal at any one of the fine dining restaurants throughout the city. Currently standing in front of me, blond hair falling casually over his forehead and beckoning my fingers to tame it, looking just as good as he did when we split up three months ago.

Possibly better.

Fond hearts aren’t trouble for no reason. And mine thumps heavily as I take him in.

“Logan, wow. What a surprise.” Cue the polite hug and kiss. “You look great.” Memories of us tumble out of the closet I crammed them into, crashing into me with a force that makes my knees go weak.

There’s day-old scruff darkening his jaw. It’s a look I’ve never seen from Logan before. In the year we dated, he was meticulous about grooming. Even now, it’s clear it’s deliberate. It makes him more distinguished. A replica of his father.

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