Page 87 of Fox
“Janie, we’re just so thrilled that you’re here!” Brandon is beaming and practically levitating out of his seat as he and his boss, Patricia Humphrey, sit across the boardroom table from me. Patricia would’ve been myhashtag goalslast year. The woman is in her late sixties, though I guarantee that ninety percent of her parts are younger than I am. She’s elegant with her long, thin body, wrapped in an oxblood power suit that for sure cost more than my car. Her raven hair is pulled tightly in a flawless French twist with absolutely no flyaways. Her midnight black, coffin-shaped nails tap on the conference table as she reads over my folder.
I give him a smile I don’t feel as I twist my fingers under the table, hoping they don’t notice my tremors. Something that, until last night, I hadn’t realized I’d stopped worrying about. Over this past year, I’ve stopped hiding, wearing baggy clothes year-round, and shying away from making friends out of fear of their judgment. Now, I’m right back where I started. I was hoping this interview wouldn’t happen. I was hoping that Fox would get my note and come. But he didn’t. He didn’t come, and it stabbed me in the heart. I really thought this would be like that moment in the movies where the hero appears at the last secondto sweep the heroine off her feet. But no, my feet are planted firmly in these uncomfortable shoes on the marble floor.
Sunday spent the last two days I’ve been here detoxing me. She took me for massages, pedicures, facials, and to this hair salon that only specializes in washing your hair. The best part was the salon was a silent service salon, meaning there was no chit-chatting and no having to force a fake smile. It was all just about the physical moment. I hadn’t realized how therapeutic it would be.
And this morning, Sunday got up and flat ironed my hair for me, so perfectly straight and sleek you would think she had been doing it for years. She dressed me in a power suit, black, with an emerald green camisole and the sharpest pair of stilettos I’ve ever seen. I scream power and business. But inside, I miss my Hel’s T-shirt and leggings. I miss my freckles. I miss my crazy, wild hair. I miss my Winston and… I miss my giant, tattooed lumberjack.
“I’m delighted to be here,” I say elegantly, using the voice I always used with my brand deals. Funny how I spent years mastering this fake persona. Creating Jai, and now I can’t stand her. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. I don’t know when it started. All I know is at this moment, I hate Jai more than I’ve ever hated anyone.
“I don’t know how much Brandon has told you about the job,” Patricia says. “But what we’re looking for is a co-host.”
I blink and look between Patricia’s pore-less face and Brandon’s. He seems almost too excited now.
“I’m sorry?” I shake my head, giving them an unsure smile. “Co-host?”
Patricia nods. “You would be co-hosting a vlog channel with Brandon. You two would find yourselves growing closer in your travels. It’s very common for relationships to blossom in beautiful places, after all. Along with your cute banter, sexualtension, and then the final climax, we are confident it would be an instant success.”
A fake relationship for views.
My mind immediately goes to Brody, and my stomach churns. “I’m sorry. I thought this was a solo job, and it would be photos, not a vlog.”
Patricia laughs as if what I said is the most absurd thing ever uttered in her presence.
“Janie, did you really believe I would pay to fly you worldwide for Instagram shots? Come on now. You’ve been in the social media world long enough. You were influencing before it was even a thing.”
I turn my gaze toward Brandon. His overly eager smile, short, wavy blonde hair, and tanned skin that undoubtedly came from a bottle or a bed—it all screams fragile male ego. Yeah, he won’t last a month in a vlog. Someone will make fun of that fake baked color, and he will crumble. I give a small smile and continue to listen as the two of them talk about the job and all it will entail. Though I’m only partially listening. My mind keeps going back to Fox.
Why would he even start a relationship with me and then continue it if he didn’t see love as a possibility? Had it been too soon? I didn’t think so. We were well over getting close to ending the first year since Dad’s death. I don’t feel like that is an absurdly short amount of time to decide if you are in love with someone.
I wanted to stay with him. I wanted to give him Hel’s and stay there and do it together. And he freaked out, like what I was offering was ridiculous.
I listen to Patricia droning on and on about what would be expected of me and Brandon. His eyes haven’t left mine, and this conference table keeps getting smaller. Brandon keepsbumpinghis foot into mine, and I am three seconds awayfrom throat-punching him.That would make for some great banter.
I smile at the thought, and Brandon must take it as a sign to keep going because I feel his foot trail up my calf.
My thoughts go to Fox. One word and Fox would snap him in two. Fuck, I really miss him.
THIRTY-SEVEN
fox
My knees continue to bob up and down while I sit on a bench outside the buildingBliss Trips’ headquarters. I nervously rub my hands together for probably the millionth time while watching everyone walking out of the building, waiting to see my girl.
I was an idiot, and I’m ready to admit it to her now and every sixty seconds for the rest of my life, just as long as I get to be near her. And if I don’t, then she’s still mine because fuck her stupid note, she would’ve known I was on the way if she would look at her damn phone.
The rumble of thunder from the darkening skies above interrupts my thoughts, and I curse and shake my head. The weather was hot and sunny in Miami for the three days I had been there, and then I was supposed to return to warm, sunny California. Instead, I’m in Chicago, in a T-shirt, freezing, and seconds from getting drenched.
It doesn’t matter, though; I won’t leave this spot. I need to talk to Janie first. I made a mistake letting her leave that hotel room and not immediately chasing after her. I won’t make that mistake again. She is too important to me.
Miami
“You are the biggest fucking idiot who’s ever fucking existed.” Atlas snarls once he catches up to me in my hotel room. I frantically start grabbing clothes and my wallet, the note from the receptionist still clenched in my hand. He shoves me against the wall. I don’t even try to fight back. I don’t care. His words are nothing compared to how I feel about hurting Janie. It’s nothing that I don’t deserve. I just need him to hurry the fuck up so I can get to her.
“She’s in love with you! And you tell her no, break her heart, and now you’re rushing to leave over a note?” I looked at the ground before glancing up at him. My face must’ve said something my mouth couldn’t because Atlas instantly softened, and he stepped back.
“I am in love with her.” I choke out, my throat feeling dry and raw.
“Then why… Oh, Fox…” Atlas smacks his head.
