My twenty-three-year-old assistant pales considerably as she gapes at me in pure terror while I tumble ass first into rock bottom.
Too far, Whit. Way too far!
Odd looks get shot my way when I belt out a Disney villain cackle that sounds foreign even to me. I clamp a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Kidding. I’m kidding.”
She graces me with an uncomfortable laugh and accompanying lie. “I know.”
It’s apparent she’s now terrified of me, or for me. I’m not sure which is worse. Though we’ve grown closer in the last six months, I’m too embarrassed to decipher which.
“Don’t worry, Zoe. I’m afraid of heights, so I won’t be headed for the roof tonight. Are you taking off?” She stalls, the picture of youth, beauty, and a bright future. One I hope I haven’t tainted with my rancorous tongue.
“Yeah, I’m going to meet up with my boyfriend. We’re driving to his parents tonight.”
“So, it’s getting serious? We’re meeting the parents?”
“Yeah, it sort of happened this week.”
The fact that she seems to be apologetic about it only worsens my guilt. My own assistant can see the depths of my despair.
“That’s wonderful.” I give her my most genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you.”
It’s hard not to spot the relief in her eyes. “Thank you. I’m excited and nervous.”
“No need to be. They’ll adore you. He’s the lucky one, and don’t you dare forget it.”
Another dazzling flash of teeth. “Thanks, boss.”
“Zoe, for the millionth time, call me Whitney.” I turn back to the party as the deafening sound of feedback from the karaoke microphone blasts through the floor, announcing that most everyone will be calling an Uber.
“That’s my cue,” I jest. “I’m right behind you.”
Zoe nods and briefly lifts the iPhone she forever has plastered to her hand. “I’ll have my phone on, just in case.”
“Don’t you dare,” I say sternly. “I won’t. Take the time off. You’re going to need it. We may be down, but we’re not out.” Even I can hear the false bravado in that statement. My get up and go has fucking left the building, and I make the decision to follow it.
“Merry Christmas, Zoe.”
“You, too. And thanks so much for the bonus.”
“You earned it.” It’s all I can manage around the now consistent burn in my throat due to the unwelcome emotion threatening to overtake me.
Zoe does me a solid by playing immune to my rapidly glossing eyes and, with one last wave, walks toward the elevator.
Tiptoeing around the arrival of my mid-life crisis, I bid farewell to those closest to me as I grab my coat from my office. Ambling down the hall to make my overdue exit, I wince as the onslaught of the worse imaginable rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” is belted out by our graphics guru, Paula.
Sophie appears by my side as I scan the party one last time, trying to muster the ability to match the same confidence I had in my step this morning.
“Oh, my God, Whitney, you’re not going to believe this!” Sophie belts in an intended whisper that ends up more like a scream, only matched by the donkey-sounding wails erupting from Paula. I pray to God no one is recording her because surely tomorrow she would deem it blackmail worthy with sober ears.
Turning to Sophie, I give her a grin. “I saw. Walk me to the elevator. I can’t handle this.”
Sophie giggles, giddy, a rare sound from the cynical friend I adore so much. But the cynic seems to have been swallowed up briefly by the six-foot shot of dopamine just injected by her crush. Love does that to people.
I knew what that felt like once.
“I know. She sounds like a donkey on crack.”
There’s my girl.
“I was just thinking the same.”
“You know you could blow the roof off this place, and you should.”
“Hard pass.” I glance over to soak in her glow. “I saw you two huddled in the corner. Spill.”
“He’s taking me for drinks after he shoots off one last email and locks up.” Snatching an oversized cupcake with a mountain of green icing, I flick off the paper Holy Jolly Santa standing atop it as we stride toward the elevator.
“We made small talk at first, it was innocent, but after a few minutes, it was like…we both finally had enough of skirting around the attraction. I was just about to speak up, and he beat me to it…and gah…” She practically bounces on her heels.