“This person is Hugo Jones—that family friend who got me the job. And no way—I never asked him. I never would’ve! This is the handiwork of my mom and dad. I told them not to ask him when they suggested it. I thought they would respect my wishes, but my family is really into micromanaging my life. Like, really into it.”
“They must’ve thought Hugo would say something nice.”
“Yup.” I pretend to study my phone, but I need a little time before I can speak in a non-weepy voice. “They thought wrong.”
“And now Hugo’s letter is on a forum where people post mean letters of recommendation and employee horror stories.”
“Just like those forums about horrible landlords and cheating boyfriends. Except I’m the one getting posted about now. Guess that explains my problems getting hired.”
Kelsey makes a sympathetically angry face.
“I can’t believe Mom and Dad asked him after I said not to. Hugo’s not even in the marketing industry, but my parents think that everyone stands in awe of him. Mom was like, ‘It would be such a feather in your cap, Stella!’”
“That’s one shitty-ass feather,” Kelsey says.
“Right?” I flop back on the couch. “Also? So much for confidential.”
“Why would Hugo Jones get you a job at his hedge fund if he thinks you’re such a terrible employee?”
“Guilt? Pity? The opportunity to enjoy his evil handiwork, maybe? Keep me under his thumb in some perverse way? Though all of that would suggest he cares, whereas obviously he just wants me to leave him the hell alone. So…file it underWho knows?”
“What a jackass.”
“All the jobs that I almost got—they probably came to check this board before hiring me. This is why they all changed their minds.”
“Being unruly and not taking direction are awesome traits,” Kelsey says. “Women would still be begging their men to cosign on credit cards if not for some unruliness and refusal to follow orders.”
My heart practically melts with gratitude. “Fuck yeah!” I spin around. Nobody keeps me down—not even Hugo Jones. “So what’s the good news?”
Kelsey goes to the kitchen and comes back out with a bowl that contains a Roquefort and fig cheeseball. She hands me a spoon.
The kindness of that gesture makes me want to burst into tears.
“When did you get this?” I ask.
“Today. I wanted you to have another one. Greta can fuck herself.”
“You are such a sweet friend.”
She sits down and grabs the bowl of popcorn. “We’ll figure this out. But first up: a horrible murder!”
I start the show back up and dig into the cheeseball, but my attention is only half there. Hugo went out of his way to ruin my job prospects. Does he hate me that much? I feel like such a fool for ever wanting him to think I’m pretty, or hoping he’d look at me and see an impressive woman.
But slowly, slowly, as the detective begins to put together the clues and close in on the mild-mannered insurance agent, my hurt turns to rage.
ChapterEighteen
Stella
I storminto Brenda’s office, breezing past her, not caring that she’s guarding Hugo’s inner sanctum like the world’s most assholey lion.
She follows me down the little hallway. “You can’t go in there!”
“Well, then you can fire me. Or he can fire me. Whoever wants to can fire me. Everyone can fire me!” I blow on through the waiting area and pound on the door, and then I pull it open.
Mr. Antisocial McStern rises up and comes out from behind his desk.
“I told her she wasn’t to bother you,” Brenda says.