Page 2 of The Friendly Fall

I bat away a rogue tear that’s threatening to spill down my cheek.

I just need to get out of here. Then I’ll tell Devon. Ugh. So much for that vacation in Mexico this summer.

“Eliza?” Nelson peeks over the top of the cubicle, eyeing me through his black, thick-rimmed glasses. He was hired around thesame time I was, and considering the pained look on his face, he’s either really great at guessing … or he already knew.

I bet everyone did.

“Are you okay?” His voice comes out uneven.

I nod. “I guess it’s just time for new opportunities.”

“I heard that Ted was taking over your job a few days ago, but I didn’t really know what that meant. I thought maybe you were getting promoted.”

“Yeah, right.” I sniffle, wiping my nose on my cardigan sleeve. “We both know that Mr. Hudson wouldneverpromote me. The man’s only given meoneraise in the last five years.”

“You deserved more than that,” Nelson says quietly, slipping out of his cubicle and coming around to join me.

I glance at the clock; it’s twelve-thirty. If I hurry, I can be out of the office before the rest of the team comes back from lunch.

Lunch that I intentionally skipped out on so I could pick up some extra work.

Ugh.

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Nelson continues, leaning his slender frame against the cubicle. “Maybe you can finally find a boss that likes women.”

“Maybe,” I mutter, opening the drawers and pulling out my things. I don’t have much—I’ve always kept a minimalist approach to my office.

And now I’m glad I did.

“Don’t let it get you down. You’re great at what you do—you’re great at everything you do.”

I finally look up at him. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now. I’ll deal with it later.”

He frowns but nods in agreement. “Yeah, I understand. That makes sense. You’ll keep me up to date on where you go, right? It’ll be weird without you here.”

My shoulders slump, knowing that—more than likely—Iwon’tkeep him up to date. Nelson and I have never talked about anything other than work things, and I know he’s just extending his sympathies because I’m upset.

“I wish you the best,” he adds, before tapping on the frame and disappearing back into his own workspace.

I pack the rest of my things and make it out of the office by ten minutes to one, avoiding the walk of shame I inevitably would’ve endured when the majority of the team returns from lunch.

Now, I just have to tell Devon.

I lean back against the back of our velvet couch in the sitting room of our apartment, trying to breathe. He’ll be home in five minutes.

Five freaking minutes.

And I still havenoidea how to tell him I lost my job today. I haven’t told anyone yet, not even my granny.

The sound of the apartment door chiming catches my attention, and I turn to see my boyfriend of eight years walk through the door. He’s got a grim look on his face, but that’s his norm.

Being a lawyer isn’t fun most days.

“Hey,” I say in a shaky tone. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” he mutters, shutting the door behind him. “You?”

“I got let go,” I blurt out with a sharp sigh.

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