Page 43 of Never the Best

Yep!

A bright peach sheath dress with a matching suit jacket. I wore my bumblebee necklace and daisy earrings to go with it.

Owning the name Bumblebee had been an idea I’d gotten from reading a book where a woman who’d been bullied did the same. I felt empowered when I created my Tinder account and started to expel the old feelings I experienced when I thought about the cruel way I was treated.

“I always am in the right bed:mine,” I scoffed with good humor.

I felt remarkably light, as if telling Rhett the ugly truths had somehow helped me shed them. I had told the man who’d hurt me how much he’d fucked up my life, and he’d been penitent; he’d validated what I felt and what happened to me—he hadn’t made fun of me or made excuses, as I feared he would.

The weight I’d been carrying for so long was not exactly gone, but it had shifted, so it wasn’t pressing down on me quite so heavily anymore.

As I walked to my office, the usual clatter of keyboards and muted phone calls were like background music. When Ipassed through the finance department, people gave me curious looks, most probably because of how I was dressed. Usually, I avoided eye contact, keeping my head straight and my steps brisk. Today, I smiled back and cheerfully saidgood morning. It was strange how small things like that felt so monumental.

“Good morning, Pearl,” Layla called as I passed her office door, waving me in.

“It’sabsolutelya good morning.” I stepped inside.

Layla set her phone down on her desk and leaned casually against the edge, crossing her arms as she studied me with a raised eyebrow. “Alright,” she teased, her lips curving into a sly smile, “you’ve either had a life-changing epiphany or someone spiked your coffee with something strong. Spill it—what’s going on?”

“What? Can’t a girl wear some color without everyone wondering what’s going on?”

“Absolutely not,” Layla stated.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I feel good today.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “Usually, you’re rushing to start up a call or a meeting, and what you say is you’rebusy, nevergood. Should we alert the press?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “I don’t know what to tell you, Layla.”

She gave me a knowing look. “You don’t have to tell me a thing, Pearl. It’s good to see you so bright and cheerful.”

I nodded, my fingers brushing over my dress. “I am, however, still as busy as they come.”

“Of course, you are.” Layla smirked. “Well, whatever it isthat’s happening, keep it up. You’ve got a glow about you, Pearl. Don’t let anyone dim it.”

A glow?I didn’t know if I believed that, but as I sat down at my desk and opened my email, my phone buzzed with a text, and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw Rhett’s name on the screen.

Rhett:Okay, I’ll admit it. Steinbeck’s description of the Dust Bowl is…kind of brilliant.

Me:Kind of brilliant? The way he makes you feel the suffocation is completely brilliant!

Rhett:Fine, completely brilliant, but still depressing as hell.

Me:True, but also profound and life-changing.

Rhett:Want to place bets on how many chapters it’ll take before I’m completely emotionally wrecked?

Me:Three. Tops.

Rhett:If you lose, I pick the next book we read together.

Me:Deal! P.S. I started last night and my heart hurts already. I forgot how this book wrecked me in the best ways possible.

Rhett:I’m going to hang in there and show you I’m made of sterner stuff.

I set my phone down, still smiling as I turned to my spreadsheets. Maybe Layla was right. Perhaps Ididhave a glow about me.

By the end of the day, I was buzzing with energy. Halfway home, an idea hit me:I should cook dinner tonight.

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