Chapter3

"I am so sorry I posted that photo of you going through the trash without asking." She covered her mouth. "I meant to DM it to Cole as a joke, and it slipped into #general."

"By the time I tried to delete it, people had already screenshotted it. Now the New York and Austin offices are talking about you too. Congrats, you're famous!"

She was apologizing, but she never stopped smiling.

She nudged Cole with her elbow, all pouty.

"Are you underpaying your people? She had to drop a hint like this to get a raise. I mean, it's fine if it's just us, but if clients see it, that's really bad for the company's image."

Right on cue, someone shouted:

"Oh no! A client actually recognized her! They just emailed asking if she works here!"

The whole floor exploded.

"Doesn't she live in some ocean-view condo in Santa Monica? I saw her boyfriend pick her up in a Porsche last weekend."

"She's just addicted to freebies. She posts photos with her boyfriend and he never shows his face. He's probably embarrassed by her."

"She's made the whole company look bad. And I actually stuck up for her about the promotion last week. Turns out Cole knew exactly what he was doing."

Every word landed like a slap across my face.

I wanted to stand up and scream: That boyfriend who never shows his face? He's standing right in front of you!

But Cole was already walking over.

His face was dark. He grabbed a printout of the photo and threw it in my face.

The edge of the paper sliced the corner of my eye. It stung.

"Sienna told me today you have histrionic personality disorder. That all the mac and cheese was a show for me. I actually defended you."

"Now I believe her. You'll fake anything for money."

He looked at me like I was a bag of garbage.

"Jenna Price, you're fired. Effective now. Get out."

Cole said I'd violated the employee handbook clause about damaging the company's reputation.

No severance. Not a cent.

On my way out with a cardboard box, I ran into Sienna in the lobby.

Polished, put-together, surrounded by people. Next to me, covered in dust and humiliation, we looked like a before-and-after photo.

I hugged the box tighter and walked faster.

As I passed her, she stuck out her foot.

I slammed onto the marble floor. Everything in the box went flying. My mug shattered. A picture frame cracked. Five years of my life, all over the floor.

The skin on my knee and shin was scraped raw, and blood started seeping through right away.

The noise drew a crowd.

Cole showed up too.

He glanced at me on the floor, frowned, and his first move was to pull Sienna behind him.

I was in too much pain to get up. I looked up and gritted out, "Why did you trip me?"

Before she could answer, Cole shouted:

"Enough! HR posted on Slack this morning that it rained last night and the lobby's slippery. Everyone was told to be careful!"

"You don't read the announcements, you go charging around, you fall, and now you want to blame Sienna?"

"She was just asking me to go easy on you for trashing the company's image!"

He pulled an envelope from his assistant's hand and threw it down in front of me.

A cease-and-desist.

"Clearly, you're not going to learn unless somebody teaches you a lesson."

"Breach of your NDA, spreading damaging information about the company. Fifty thousand dollars in damages, due in ninety days. Or I'll see you in court."

I lay there on the floor, staring at him in disbelief.

In three years, everything between us always came back to money.

When I gave more, he said I was after his money.

When he gave a little, he sent me a bill and called it fair.

I'd gotten used to Cole testing my love with money.

But I never once asked myself: How much did he actually love me?

I lived on sandwiches for three months for him, and he threw my gift in the trash.

I waited three hours for him at a restaurant, and he was having a $900 dinner with another woman.

Now my knee was bleeding, and he was throwing a legal threat at me.

Enough.

If he could throw away those shoes, I could throw away this relationship.

I pushed myself up off the floor, inch by inch, and in front of the entire company, I said every word slowly:

"Cole Whitmore, we're done."

The lobby went dead silent.