Page 70 of Mr. Wrong Number

Insert a fancy lounge full of rich professionals laughing.

Shit.

I stripped the bed of Colin’s sheets and jammed them into a trash bag. At first I was going to leave them on his doorstep, but knowing my amazing luck, Jack would find them and I’d be totally hosed, so I decided not to. Ultimately I took the bag down to the dumpster and threw away a perfectly lovely set of expensive linen sheets.

By late afternoon I was out of emotion. I got in that sterile, detached mood that always hit after saying,Screw everything.I applied for a few content jobs and sent an email to one of theonline companies that’d offered me freelance work before I’d been hired by theTimes. They were all crappy, creativity-free positions, but they’d at least pay the bills.

I walked down to the market on the corner and purchased a dinner of hot dogs, a box of Frosted Flakes, and Diet Coke, and once I got home, I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was such a quiet apartment with no TV, and I was getting sick of mindlessly messing with my phone. I had a bed and two barstools—that was it.

Empty, like me at the moment.

I kept thinking Colin would text an apology, but of course not. He probably didn’t even care.

Jackass.

I forced myself not to think about the night before—no good could come of that—and after lying on my bare mattress for an hour with no sleepiness to be found, I sent a text to Mr. Wrong Number.

Me:I know we don’t know each other, but we DID have an actual friendship and you could’ve at least said goodbye. Right now everything in my life is in the trash and I’m kind of alone, and I could really use an anonymous friend. Sucks that you suck so badly.

I plugged my phone into the charger and shut off the light.

Screw him, too.

Boys sucked.

But then my phone buzzed. I looked down at it in the darkness.

Mr. Wrong Number:I can’t tell you why I disappeared, but it was nothing you did and I’m so sorry for leaving you alone. I know you’re mad, but if you need to talk, I’m here.

I wanted to stay mad but the truth of the matter was that I needed to talk. I desperately needed to talk to someone who didn’t know me or my situation. I turned the light back on.

Me:What would you say if I told you that I slept with my brother’s best friend, got fired from my job for lying, then found out that my brother’s best friend was the one responsible for airing the secret that got me fired?

Colin

I stared down at the phone in my hand and didn’t know what to do. Hell.

Because I was torn between feeling really bad for Liv, and being really pissed at her. It sucked that she got fired from a job she loved, especially when she was so good at it. I knew her well enough to know she was hurt and also stressing the hell out over paying rent on the new apartment.

Which was why I’d sent that apology text from Mr. Wrong Number.

But.

How could she think I’d tell? That was ludicrous in and of itself—like, who the fuck would I tell?—but her quick accusation had shown exactly what she thought of me. After living together for a month, I’d thought we’d become friends in our way.

And then the sex.

So I was shocked speechless when she basically said I was exactly like my father. Shit, I wouldn’t have even guessed she’d known or remembered my dad, but apparently she did and assumed I was his country club mini-me. My worst goddamned nightmare.

You’ve been a busy girl, I responded.

Olivia:In the worst possible way.

I wasn’t going to ask any questions. I just needed to make her feel okay and then I’d return to ghosting. I texted:That sucks.

Texting bubbles and then—

The sex was unreal. Like, porn stars would probably be jealous of how good we were.

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