“Yeah.”
“Well, I would,” I declare miserably. “It’s not just the good days, it was the hope that maybe I was wrong, that I could have what you and Jess have. This isn’t about us being over, this is about my hope being dashed beyond recognition. I’m not doing this anymore, ever again.”
Before anyone can say anything, I get up, wrapping up in Elise’s comforter and shuffling off to the bedroom. She’s got a big bed, and between the comforter I’ve already got and her fluffy blanket she’s got here, I quickly get a good misery nest wormed up and snuggle in deep, hiding in my cocoon. I have a half-formed thought that instead of eventually emerging a beautiful butterfly, I’m going to come out of this a hardened bitch. But maybe that’s safer in the end.
There’s no way I’m going to sleep, even if I couldn’t still hear them talking.
“Has she even talked to him yet?” Jess asks Elise quietly. “I mean, all jokes aside, I’d like to hear this excuse.”
“Maybe screaming and cussing him out would help?” Elise asks. “I mean, it couldn’t hurt, right? Sorry, she hasn’t even turned her phone back on after that call to him when she realized that he ignored her.”
Mom sounds bleakly hopeful. “Maybe he’s called by now?”
Elise lowers her voice, but I can still hear her. “No. I turned it back on when I forced her into the shower this morning. He still hadn’t called and I deleted a bunch of texts from people at work who heard about it. Oh, and Kevin sent her stupid shit that makes me want to slap his fucking face. I’m planning on dealing with his ass soon enough.”
I hear my Mom’s gasp, and while I’m pissed that Elise screwed with my phone, she’s got a good heart. She’s right, I should have checked for Derrick to call back. “I never liked that weasel,” mom says.
I groan and roll over. Everyone knows I’ll never be able to show my face at work again. Fuckstick Kevin even thinks he’s worthy of my time now. I may be embarrassed as hell but I’m never falling that far off the scale again.
Nope, just gonna stay alone, me and my lines of code that are predictable and reliable, unlike men. Maybe get that dog after all.
There’s a buzzing sound, and then Elise’s voice. “Ugh . . . They’re not being completely rude like Kevin, but I’m going to have to teach some of her co-workers a lesson too. I’m gonna turn this back off for now. She doesn’t need any of this shit right now.”
I bury my head underneath the dual comforters, hoping to drown out the noise. Maybe eventually, I’ll get to sleep and wake up to find out this was all just a nightmare.
Chapter 25
Derrick
“Hey, this is Kat. I’m busy so leave a message at the beep.”
I slam my fist down on the passenger seat of my car, growling. Each time I call, it goes straight to voicemail.
I went to her apartment, banging on her door loud enough for one of the neighbors to stick their head out and tell me to shut the fuck up or else they’d call the cops. Yeah, that’s the last fucking thing I need.
Knowing I’ve got at least one more shitstorm I’ve got to deal with, I head into work. Walking through the small reception area, I know I’ve got laser beams shooting from my eyes and fire drifting from my nostrils as two of the front staff cower from my glare. They normally are pretty nice. I’ve shot the shit with them plenty of times. Not today.
“What the fuck was that last night?” I explode as I storm into my office to see Susannah seated at the work table, her little clipboard arranged perfectly in front of her. “What was going through your fucking head?”
She taps her clipboard with a pen, looking up with an expression on her face of total and complete calm. “Nice to see you too. I covered for you when you bailed and didn’t answer your phone the dozens of times I called to find out where the fuck you went. You’ve been mentally absent for weeks now, Derrick. I saved your ass and the show, just like I always do. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I stop in my tracks, dumbfounded. Not sure what excuse I was expecting, but it damn sure wasn’t that. “Covered for me? You should’ve just played an old show. How the hell did you get those recordings?”
My yelling is attracting an audience, people poking their heads out and freezing in the hallway to watch the show through the glass door, but I’m way beyond caring.
Susannah, on the other hand, is playing it cool as a cucumber. “You’re the one having phone sex in the middle of the studio. I just aired them. I could’ve filed suit for creating a hostile work environment, you know. I did you a favor.”