Page 92 of Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye
“Uh, no. Ta.” Tarquin gulped his drink as his phone buzzed in his other hand.
Finally! He lowered his flute, a flutter of anticipation swooping in his belly as he glanced down.
Surprise! I made it!
The tingly citrus of the vintage champagne soured on Tarquin’s tongue. Cressida?
Twenty-One
LEIA
It’s her. Cressida! My god, she’s even more beautiful in real life.
Leia’s stomach pinched into a knot. Tarquin, a dozen feet away surrounded by Nick and several friends, offered a wide smile and a flute of glistening champagne to a tall, striking blonde in a summery halter-neck gown.
Shit, shit, shit! Leia’s pale pink nails dug into her satin clutch purse as she slouched behind a towering trio of guys furiously debating the latest New York Knicks trade. This was a BIG mistake. Peering around the ESPN wannabe sportscasters, she nudged her hair worn loose and wavy away from her face and spied Tarquin moving in for a kiss. Her stare didn’t linger. “I-I shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, you should!” said Xavi, stealing two glasses of bubbly from a passing server. “If anyone deserves a night of free fizz and food, you do, Ley.” He ogled her curves, resplendent in the sparkly emerald cocktail dress gifted to her by Simon. “Chill, have a drink.” He foisted a flute her way and angled toward an incoming tray of phyllo-pastry-wrapped eats. “At least give it an hour, babe.”
Why did I tag along with him? Leia flinched. “Would you stop calling me that! I’m not your babe!” she snarled under her breath. “How many times do I have to tell you? We are not a thing! We’re workout buddies—that’s it. And you know I don’t drink.” Backing away, she eluded another eyeful of Tarquin and his gorgeous girlfriend. I have to get out of here before he sees me. “This whole thing was a bad idea. I’m going. You stay, have fun.”
Xavi pouted above the two full champagne glasses in his hands. “You’re bailing on me? But I told Nick I’d be bringing…”
Leia didn’t stick around to answer. A blur of shimmery sequins, she snuck past a cluster of boisterous young actors posing for the party’s roaming photographer and bolted outside into humidity so oppressive her airy tulle and crepe georgette dress felt like an iron apron.
So gross! I’ll be a puddle of regret before I get home.
She gave a tight smile to the PR rep guarding the guest list and sidestepped Bespoke’s velvet rope, squeezing past a clique of designer-draped fashionistas sharing gossip and a dwindling joint. Locking Leia in their sights, the women smirked over their shoulders, trading whispers and laughter as she ducked her head and escaped their pointed stares.
What the hell was I thinking? That Tarquin would be single again? That we’d magically pick up where we left off? You stupid girl! Heels punishing the sidewalk, she hurried along West 11th Street, her clutch coming alive with the muffled vocals of the Spice Girls’ “Stop.” He never responded to my email or postcard! He never followed Frill-Seekers on Instagram. What more evidence do I need? Of course he’s still with the chef! She’s amazing and glamorous and open to love and meeting his family—couple stuff—all things I had ridiculous rules about. And me? I’m the scared idiot who refused to let him get close to me! The Spice Girls trailed off, then arose again. Can this day get any worse?!
She slowed to a walk and tore open the magnetic closure of her purse, the inescapable mugginess rousing beads of perspiration on her skin. Xavi, take a fucking hint! She snatched her phone, its glow resuscitating the beads on her dress, sparking a galaxy of emerald green stars orbiting around her. Saz? She blinked at the screen, the fury in her heart dying a quick death.
“You’re up early.” Leia slapped on a smiley face, hoping her voice would lift along with the corners of her mouth. “Isn’t it like four a.m. there or something?”
“Yep. I’m tag-teaming coffee and Smarties while I prep for a meeting in Liverpool.” The familiarity of Sarah’s voice felt comforting and safe like a warm hug. “My train leaves at seven.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll leave you to it—”
“Not so fast! You can’t text ‘The Institute let me go’ and leave me hanging.” Sarah exhaled a heavy breath. “Ley, I’m so sorry! What happened and when did you hear? I thought you were off today.”
My life is such a dumpster fire. A tingly burn prickled inside Leia’s nose. “I was off. Violetta called in the middle of a Frill-Seekers meeting, she asked me to join her for an after-work drink. I thought we’d be discussing my role in our next exhibition, but nope. She let me go instead! Apparently, the operating budget has been slashed and cuts are happening immediately. I’m the last one in, so I’m the first one out.”
“But that’s ridiculous! You do a great job. Violetta said so last week—”
“But the bean counters don’t care, do they? To them, I’m just a name on a spreadsheet with zero seniority.” Walking past Magnolia Bakery, Leia fought back tears. Don’t be a cliché. Do NOT cry in the street!
“This is so wrong!” Sarah seethed, her voice rising through the phone. “They should’ve axed someone else!”
God love her. There’s subtle and then there’s Saz. “They did. I wasn’t the only one let go. Violetta did say she tried to keep me—”
“That’s bullshit. She didn’t try hard enough!” Sarah snarled. “Did they give you any compensation?”
“I’ll get a small severance package along with a reference. Tomorrow I have to see HR, hand in my ID, and pick up my stuff.” Leia sniffed, unable to keep the tears from spilling through her lashes. At least it’s dark out. Dipping her chin, she hid behind her hair and kept walking. “I was completely blindsided, Saz. I loved working there.”
“Aw, honey, I know you did.”
“Every day was magical! Always something interesting, something inspiring, and now it’s gone. Violetta said it was nothing to do with my performance, but I can’t help wondering, maybe I could’ve done more to make myself, you know, more valuable…?”
