Chapter2

It poured on my way home that night.

It rains maybe five times a year in L.A., and of course I got one of them. I ran a 102-degree fever and drifted in and out all night.

When I woke up the next morning, all I got was Cole complaining.

"You were talking in your sleep all night. I barely got any rest."

"I have to drive Sienna to work today. If I'm this exhausted and something happens, whose fault is that?"

Not "Are you okay?"

"Whose fault is that?"

My throat felt like sandpaper. I watched Cole knot his tie and couldn't stop myself.

"I waited for you at the restaurant for three hours last night. Where were you?"

Irritation flickered across his face.

"So you're blaming me now?"

"Wherever I was, if you couldn't reach me for an hour, why didn't you just leave?"

"Jenna, you keep asking why you didn't get that director job last week."

"This is why. You're rigid. You don't know how to adapt."

I'd worked at Cole's company for five years. Last week, I lost the internal promotion for Director of Product Marketing to someone who'd been there less than a year.

Experience, numbers, skills — I beat her on every single one.

The deciding vote against me was Cole's.

"The execs on that panel know about us. I didn't want them giving you the job as a favor to me. That wouldn't be good for you."

"You said I was just pretending to be fair. Maybe now you should ask yourself whether losing was your own fault."

The doorbell cut off his lecture. UPS, here for the return pickup.

Cole frowned. "What did you buy now?"

"I don't get it. How does one pair of shoes leave you too broke to eat? Seriously, it's because you waste money that you live on one-dollar boxes of mac and cheese."

My hands shook around the shoebox.

These are the shoes you threw in the trash, asshole.

I handed the box to the driver and turned to him.

"Cole, we need to talk."

He grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

"Later. Sienna's waiting."

"Oh, and I only put you down for a half sick day. You still need to come in this afternoon."

"Most people at work don't know about us anyway. I don't want you getting used to special treatment."

The door slammed.

Once the refund cleared, I sent him this month's rent.

He'd hated my old shared apartment, said it was a dump, and insisted I move into his ocean-view condo in Santa Monica.

"It's my place, but if you're living here, you should pitch in." He'd even made a spreadsheet: I paid forty percent of market rent, and covered the rest with housework.

He accepted the money in seconds.

Five minutes later, a Venmo request popped up.

Cole Whitmore requested $23.47 — "fever meds"

To the cent.

Right after I paid it, Sienna's latest Instagram post showed up in my feed.

Day two back home, and my bestie's treating me to a three-Michelin-star dinner! THIS is what real friends do #bestiesforlife

In the corner of the photo was a man's wrist.

That watch was the birthday present I'd spent two months' salary on last year. He'd worn it out the door that morning.

I looked up the restaurant from the logo in the picture. Tasting menu for two with wine pairing: almost $900.

For her, a $900 dinner.

For me, a $23.47 invoice.

I picked up the mac and cheese I'd just nuked and took a bite.

Salty. Bitter.

It took me a second to realize my tears had fallen into it.

Then my phone lit up. Forty-seven Slack notifications, all from #general.

I didn't open them. I should have.

That afternoon, I dragged myself into the office, still burning up.

The second I stepped onto the floor, the whole place went quiet.

Everyone was looking down at their phones, then up at me.

I opened the #general channel on the company Slack, and my heart stopped.

It was me. Crouched next to a trash can, half my arm inside it, clutching a box of chocolates.

There were already two hundred replies, and it had been shared to every channel.

I sat at my desk with my head down, my hands shaking so hard I kept mistyping.

I couldn't even imagine Cole's face when he saw it. Nobody cared more about appearances than him.

And right then, Cole walked onto the floor with Sienna.

He tapped his glass.

"Quick announcement. Effective today, Sienna is our new VP of Partnerships."

Three levels up, overnight.

"Sienna's my best friend, and she's still learning the ropes. Do me a favor and help her out, okay?"

I stared at my screen.

Cole hated people who got ahead through connections.

He wouldn't go public about us because he said people would go easy on me and it wouldn't be fair.

In three years, he turned down my raise requests five times. Always the same reason: conflict of interest.

But for Sienna, the rules were different.

Six months earlier, right after Sienna started, she got a six-month assignment at the London office.

I'd been approved too. But Cole said company money was his money, so if I went, I'd have to pay my own way. I couldn't afford it.

Sienna? Cole covered everything, plus an overseas stipend and a bonus. He even flew out every month to "check in on operations," and took her to Paris and the Amalfi Coast while he was at it.

He called it an employee perk.

I shrank into my chair, wishing I could disappear.

Sienna spotted me anyway and waved from across the floor.

"Hey, Jenna!"

Every head turned toward me.