Page 24 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

How many people had seen this? How could she get this pulled down?

She hurried into her room to grab her laptop. When she got it booted up, her fingers were trembling, but she managed to get to her YouTube account and switched the settings to disable new comments. Then she went in and deleted the Christmas video altogether, deleting the comments with it. She also made her Instagram and other social media temporarily private. No one could comment on them if they weren’t there. There was no way to flag a post on the Worst. Date. Ever.site, though. She clicked around the pages, trying to find any option where she could report it, but if they had a way, it was buried too deep for anyone to find it.

More comments were popping up on the post.

“Goddammit.” She tossed her laptop aside. Flashes of the video went through her mind on loop. Her sloppy speech. Her pulling her shirt open in public.

She’d worked so hard to get where she was, to be a respected professional. She could not let some self-involved dude-bro take her down.

She imagined her clients watching that video, imagined them seeing the person they trusted with their most personal secrets, the person they trusted to help with their relationships, their mental health, falling down drunk and losing her shit.

No. No. No.Her heart was racing and she stood up to pace. She fanned her hot face and tried to breathe. She needed to think this through. Having a panic attack wasn’t going to help.

The panic attack came anyway.

She grabbed onto her dresser, flattening her hands atop it and focusing on the feel of the solid wood beneath her fingertips.You’re here. You’re okay.She started counting backward from one hundred by twos in her head,making sure to feel the grounding sensations of the dresser against her hands, the floor against her bare feet. Then she breathed, focusing on long exhales. Exhaling activated the parasympathetic nervous system, sending her body the calming signals it would need. She knew how to do this. Walked clients through it all the time. But it took everything she had to make herself go through the process and not crumple into a ball on her bed.

When her heartbeat finally slowed and the tingling in her arms stopped, she opened her eyes. A plan. She needed a plan. How was she going to deal with this?

First, shower.

She couldn’t function at full capacity with the funk of a hangover and the horrible night clinging to her. She ran a hot shower and got under the spray. She closed her eyes, letting the water wash away the night, and let her mind go where it wanted. She usually got her best ideas in the shower, and she needed all the help she could get. The mental list started to populate.

Ways to Combat the Narcissistic, Misogynistic, Assholic Actions of Ry the Bread

1. Quit job and escape to a beach cottage in the Bahamas, go by the name Lola.

2. Go to Ryan’s social media and tell everyone he does not have a dog, calls his penis artwork, and gets women drunk because no one would sleep with him otherwise.

3. Hunt down Ryan’s car and/or boat. Purchase baseball bat. Channel Beyoncé and goLemonadestyle on all his modes of transportation.

4. Call Andi and Hollyn because they’re the smartest people I know and will have advice that will not put me in jail.

Number three was the most tempting, but by the time she was out of the shower and getting dressed, Eliza decided number four was the most prudent. She pulled on black jeans, her favorite green sweater, and her trusty boots. She left her smartwatch on her bedside table because the last thing she needed was her wrist vibrating with more bad news. She let Mabel back inside, put on a little makeup because it felt like body armor on a vulnerable day, and then secured her still-damp hair into a ponytail.

Before tucking her phone in her back pocket, she texted Andi and Hollyn on their group thread with a GIF of a dancing eclair and the messageEmergency Pastry Meeting Needed. Will be there in about 20.

Both replied within a few seconds. Hollyn replied that she’d procure the cinnamon rolls. Andi said she’d be ready with the coffee and they could meet in her office.

A little of the tension Eliza was carrying in her muscles loosened. No matter what fire was burning in her personal life, her friends would still be there. Having those women in her corner made everything feel more manageable.

She grabbed her bag and hustled out the door. She was halfway to the driveway before she realized there were no car there. A snap of panic went through her. Had it been stolen? But then she remembered that Beckham had dropped her off last night. Her car was still at work.

Dammit.

The wait for an Uber seemed interminable, but the car finally pulled up. As she rode in the back seat, Eliza kept reaching for her phone, but she couldn’t scroll through her social media like she’d normally do to distract herself. And she definitely wasn’t going to swipe through Aligned. Her hands had nothing to do, and she had to clasp them tight to keep from fidgeting.

The still quiet was uncomfortable and had all the worries rushing back. It felt like every minute that passed was another few thousand people seeing that video. By the time the car pulled up to WorkAround, Eliza was ready to launch out of it like a rocket.

She rushed through the main doors, not bothering to say hello to anyone, and headed upstairs. Andi’s door was already open. There was a white pastry box on her desk, and Hollyn was sitting in one of Andi’s chairs.

“Hey,” Andi waved Eliza in. Her bright-red hair was half-covered with a blue polka-dot head scarf, making her look like she was about to take a trip in a convertible in the 1950s.

Hollyn smiled and tucked her mass of curly blond hair behind her ears. “Pastry has been acquired.”

Eliza stepped inside, feeling like she’d run a marathon already. “Thank you.”

She hadn’t told either of them what was going on yet, but as soon as Andi saw Eliza’s face, she got up and hugged her.

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