“You don’t know him the way I know him. Trust me, this is exactly like him. He’ll do whatever it takes to win.” I tell her the god-awful truth before I redirect my attention. “But back to what Ruby was saying: When you say literal crime, does that mean he could go to jail?”
Glee I didn’t think was possible to feel on two hours of sleep spikes my adrenaline as I picture Nate being escorted out of his two-story house with the entire neighborhood watching.
“It’s possible,” she says, spurring my fantasy on. “But he’d more than likely just have to pay a fine.”
I deflate on Ashleigh’s couch, which may or may not be more comfortable than my bed. “Boo. That’s not nearly as fun.”
“Awww, Ruby.” Ashleigh sits down next to me and places little glass roller tubes on the coffee table. “You should see her face. It looks like you just kicked her puppy.”
When Ashleigh and I exchanged numbers, I did plan on calling her eventually . . . just not this soon. But after working myself into a frenzy, I knew I had to talk about Nate to somebody and I couldn’t let my parents hear. I considered taking a drive and calling Ruby in the car, but I realized that in this situation, Nate totally has the upper hand. I needed somebody on my side. Someone on the ground. Someone local.
Thank god Ashleigh is so friendly and outgoing, because while meeting new people may come easy to some people, I really struggle with it. I’ve never been the most popular person. I mean, besides Ruby, Nate was one of my closest friends, and we saw how that worked out. Then in LA, I made some friends at school, but because we were all in the same industry, the relationships felt very conditional. Like people were only ever friends if they could get something out of it.
And then, of course, there was Peter.
I met Peter my sophomore year. He was the graduate teaching assistant in my creative writing class. I’ll never forget walking into the lecture hall and seeing him for the first time. All tall, tanned skin, and whiskey-brown eyes I swear you could see from space. He was my California dream in human form.
And I wish I’d never laid eyes on him.
“Sorry to crush your dreams, Colls. But you know, we can always— Luke!” Ruby shouts at her assistant and startles Ashleigh. “Why is Mrs. Grayson complaining that I’m not returning her messages? What messages is she talking about?” She stops yelling and gives poor Luke a second to defend himself. “No, taking messages only works if you deliver them to me. How am I supposed to know to call her back if you’re hoarding them on your desk? This isn’t rocket science.”
While I usually try to defend Ruby’s assistants, I can’t help him out this time. I’m sure he’s afraid to bring them to her because she’s always yelling, but even I know he needs to pass the messages along. Luke has been her assistant for a whopping four months. Unfortunately—or fortunately—for him, I have a sneaking suspicion he won’t make it to five.
“Please excuse her,” I say to Ashleigh, who’s staring at the phone with wide-eyed horror. “She’s a monster to all of her assistants.”
“I’m not a monster.” Ruby rejoins our conversation and I assume she’s sent Luke off to cry in a corner somewhere. “Expecting my assistant to deliver the messages he takes is literally the bare minimum for his position, and thanks to him, I have to go. Apparently my client has been trying to get in touch with me for the last four days because her jackass husband has decided he doesn’t have to abide by the parenting schedule.”
“Oh no!” sweet, innocent, angelic Ashleigh gasps. “That’s horrible!”
“It’s typical,” Ruby says. “And I know I shouldn’t generalize, but men are trash.”
“Exactly!” I pipe up, needing everyone to remember why we’re on this phone call in the first place. “Which is why we need to figure out how to strike back at Nate. Men can’t win again!”
I’m not quite sure how I’ve turned my petty neighborhood rivalry into a case of misogyny, but now that I have, it feels right. I’m not backing down and I know Ruby won’t either.
“You and Ashleigh think of some plans and we’ll reconvene later tonight,” Ruby says. “And if worse comes to worst, I can draft a cease and desist that’ll make him shit his pants.”
Reason 2,000,001 why Ruby will always and forever be my best fucking friend.
“You’re the best.” I tell her something she’s already acutely aware of. “Talk later.”
“Bye, Ruby!” Ashleigh shouts at the phone, but there’s a little tremor of fear in her voice. “Nice chatting with you.”
Ruby doesn’t respond before hanging up. She’s probably in a rush to yell at Luke one more time before she has to be professional and levelheaded while she talks to her client.
“Wow.” Ashleigh stares at me with wide, horrified eyes. “Ruby is . . . she’s intense.”
That’s maybe the understatement of the century. Ruby is fully fucking unhinged, but, if she’s on your side, she will go to the ends of the earth for you. It’s why she stays booked and busy. Her clients know she’s willing to do whatever she can for them, even if it means sinking into the mud.
“She is,” I agree. “But her bark is worse than her bite.”
That might be a lie, but I say it anyway because Ashleigh looks like she could use a little reassurance.
“Oh good.” She releases a heavy exhale and laughs quietly. “I was nervous for her assistant for a second there.”
Worried my expression will give away the fact that Luke will be unemployed in the very near future, I attempt to change the subject. “What are those?”
I point to the amber roller tubes she brought over earlier and feel immediate regret. I already had an idea of what they are, but the way her blue eyes gloss over and her perfect smile turns slightly deranged, I know exactly what’s inside.
“Oh my goodness!” She claps her manicured hands together before snatching the tubes off the table and handing one to me. “I made you an essential oil blend. I know you’re feeling a little stressed, so I combined my favorite calming oils to make the perfect blend for you.”
I fight back my groan, watching as she ticks off her fingers, naming all the oils she used.
“There’s lavender, vetiver, frankincense, and just a touch of jasmine. I mixed them with coconut oil, so all you have to do is roll that on the insides of your wrists, down the back of your neck, and behind your ears whenever you’re feeling stressed, and it will calm you right down.”
It takes every single ounce of self-control I have not to pick up the glass roller and hurtle it across the room. Not only was I raised by a pharmacist who always praised and valued the importance science has in our society, but before I quit all social media, I watched as many of the girls I went to high school with fell into the cult that is essential oils. One day they were posting funny memes and cute videos of their kids, the next day they were ranting about conspiracy theories, homeschooling, and breeding chickens.
It was entertaining at first, but as they fell deeper into the cult or came out of the other side sad, disillusioned, and not to mention broke, it was just depressing. And I know that Ashleigh, as a young, beautiful white woman preparing to start a family, is the prime target for any and all MLM schemes.