“We all have our talents.” She reached to a shelf behind her and grabbed something before turning back to me. She placed an adorable little teacup and tea bag in my hand. “I want you to have this.”
“Oh, I can’t. It’s just precious.”
“I insist. Drink the tea before you go to bed. It’ll calm your mind and help you sleep. Tomorrow is a new day.”
“Well, thank you. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing at all. Just take care of yourself.”
* * *
Zoey and I shared a cab, and I felt the first bit of relief as I was dropped at my Fifth Avenue apartment in the Ascend building. My place had made my heart sing since the moment I bought it. But, until a few hours ago, I was certain I’d be selling soon and jumping into my new life as Mrs. Steve Hamburg. Sigh.
I was disappointed when I got off on the twenty-fifth floor and arrived at my door and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Steve hadn’t been there. How dare he, am I right? I mean, I told him to stay away, but nothing? I threatened the cops, but I wasn’t worth a possible arrest? Watching his tongue assault a woman wearing hot pink lipstick in front of every friend I had didn’t deserve a bouquet of flowers with a note that would NEVER win me back?
My tummy dipped when I wondered if he’d gone to her. After the worst surprise party in the history of the world, had he gone to her? Yeah, he texted me with apologies, but did he go to finish eating her lipstick?
I was curious how long. Was it something that was going on when we slept together on Tuesday? Or did he meet her at a bar tonight? No, I wasn’t going to go down that rabbit hole.
I couldn’t let myself think about how passionately he was kissing her. Did weeverhave passion like that? Steve was normally a little vanilla in the bedroom, but it’d always been good enough. However, I didn’t think we ever looked like what was replaying in my mind on a loop.
No. I wasn’t going to go there either. I needed to move fast to escape from the thoughts that could put me into a funk for weeks. I needed to de-Steveify my apartment.
I started by flinging everything off my balcony. Anything Steve had to go. I almost threw his shaving kit over the rail but realized it would likely knock someone on their ass after sailing down twenty-five stories, so I stuck to clothing. Who wouldn’t love to be on the sidewalk below when top of the line suits dropped down like gifts from heaven?
I was providing a service to all New Yorkers as I tossed over an array of Giorgio Armani two-piece suits in the on-trend colors of the season as well as my favorite Aragona blue squared suit, which was 100% wool. I would know this because I was the dumbass who wasted countless hours with the wussy man who couldn’t decide on a damn suit by himself.
Next were his beautiful, crisp dress shirts that were in just about every color under the sun. Some solid, some stripes, and I wouldn’t dare send over those lovely shirts without the stunning cufflinks thatmustbe worn with them. Gold, silver, monogram, and diamond all took flight, and for a moment, I felt like fucking Santa Clause. YOU ARE WELCOME, NEW YORK.
Although I’d already thrown up once, I cracked open a bottle of wine and decided to focus on something else. There are some sounds I just love: the cork popping out of a bottle, the crackling of a toasty fire, and fall leaves crunching under my feet. But at that moment, I was also adding the snapping of the necks of anyone who did me wrong.
I had a maid service who showed up religiously every Thursday, but when I was upset, my go-to was kitchen cleaning. While I pulled out my yellow rubber gloves from under the sink, I found an old pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Zoey and I would smoke on occasion if we had cocktails, and at that moment, it felt right.
For the next hour, I sat on my kitchen floor, using a brush to clean the grout between the tiles. I cry-sang to my “Pissed Off” playlist of Olivia Rodrigo and Adele while I scrubbed the grout with one yellow-gloved hand, a cigarette dangling from the other.
By the time one a.m. rolled around, I was mentally and physically done in, and my head was throbbing. I made the tea in the little cup that the psychic had given me and was happy when my eyelids got heavy. I snuggled into bed and made a drunken vow to myself that I was going to get my life on track starting tomorrow. It had to get better, right?
CHAPTER2
MADISON
Ididn’t want to open my eyes. When I awoke, it took a moment or two before the memories of the night from hell started dancing in my mind. I felt shitty from the wine, but not as much about Steve as I’d expected, which shined a spotlight on the fact that deep down, in the murky part of myself, I might’ve known he wasn’t the perfect guy I’d stupidly convinced myself he was.
For most of my life, people had been spouting off about the right person being just around the corner, but now I was fairly certain mine had been hit by a bus, a train, or maybe the damn ding-ding man.
After a deep cleansing breath, which did nothing, I decided that I was going to steer clear of all men forever. Okay, maybe not forever, but at least for a few months. Yes, this was a time I should reflect on myself and take time to pull things together and stop always looking for love (…in all the wrong places…You know the song, and you’re welcome for the earworm).
While I’d embraced having my schedule cleared for a few days, it now sounded lonely, and I knew word would travel to my mother about the party, and the last thing I wanted was to hear her thoughts on what my next steps should be.
Zoey and the Magnolia jet were taking off at eleven thirty. Maybe I should go with her. I could help her with her event, and she could help me keep my mind on the rails.
I rolled over, opened my eyes, and froze with a racing heart. I was NOT in my apartment.
What the hell? I sat up and looked around. Had I been kidnapped? Or had I gotten blackout drunk, wandered out into the street, and gone home with someone?
I’d never had a one-night stand before. I’d had opportunities but always opted not to. I did always wonder what that would be like, though. According to Zoey, it could be toe-curling crazy. But last night? No, it didn’t seem possible.
My eyes bobbed around from the shower curtain that was stapled to the window frame, serving as a horrid make-shift curtain and the ancient dresser that was missing two drawers to the disgusting and certainly germ-infested mustard colored carpet below me. Was I…was I in apoorperson’s apartment? WTF?
