Marcy sighs while looking apologetic.
“Oh Bridget, come on. If this was happening to anyone else you’d be amused, right? Hell, I think if it were happening to me we’d both be laughing!”
I stare at her.
“No way. It’s an absolute abuse of my trust. I mean, the colors of my private parts? Seriously?”
She nods.
“Yeah, but it’s just colors and it’s not like Todd actually used your name or anything. And yes, people at Sanctum have guessed, but no one’s confirmed that it’s you. Maybe they think that a Sugar Glaze middle marketing manager was looking at porn while dreaming up names, and this is what popped out. You’re taking it too personally, Bridge. It’s not that bad.”
I wave my hands.
“No, but Todd confirmed that he was thinking about me while dreaming up these names. He came to my apartment and told me so.”
Marcy shrugs.
“Yeah, you know that, but they don’t,” she says helpfully. “So it’s not such a big deal, Bridge. You’re going to be okay, and this definitely isn’t something that should break you guys up.”
I twist my finger around a curl, a nervous habit I picked up when I was in middle school.
“You don’t get it, Marcy. I can never trust Todd again after this. What if he’s been blabbing about everything we’ve done together to who knows whom? I thought he and I were developing a real relationship together, but I can tell now that it was just an opportunity to make money.”
My friend lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Bridge, first, that man doesn’t need more money because Sugar Glaze has already made him wealthy! You think one colorway is going to make or break him? No. Second, I swear, you’re reading too much into this. Yes, those are ridiculous names, but come on. I think you’re being a bit overdramatic about all this.”
Before I can respond, a customer approaches the counter looking for a specific style of blush, and Marcy immediately peps up.
“I can help you with that!” she says, strolling away to the correct display case. To be honest, I think my friend’s happy to get away from me for a bit since my issues are obviously very annoying to her. Well then. But when my buddy strolls back after the customer leaves, she has a sympathetic look on her face.
“Okay, Bridge. I’m sorry if I was too harsh on you just now, but you know I want what’s best for you, and I just don’t think Todd Sales was looking at your relationship with dollar signs in his eyes.”
My shoulders slump. Maybe Marcy’s right.
“I mean, think about it,” my friend reasons. “You have a powerful, rich man who loves you so much that you inspired him creatively! How’s that for being a muse? I suppose he could have run his ideas past you first so you didn’t feel ambushed at the spa, but the thought was sweet. He wanted to immortalize you with those particular colors, and to be honest, I would kill to have a guy do that for me.”
I pout.
“Maybe you should date Todd then.”
Marcy rolls her eyes. “If only I were so lucky because if Derek were even half the man that Todd is, then maybe I could stop going to Sanctum parties to get my itch scratched.”
She’s referring to a guy she’s seeing outside of the club, and I nod.
“Or you could just break up with Derek altogether. I mean, if your itch isn’t getting scratched, then what’s the point?”
Marcy sighs. “I know, right? It’s just not the same. Sometimes, I want to pretend that I’m normal with the job and the boyfriend and all the trappings of a normal life, but then on weekends I get restless and … well, you know. I mean, I just let multiple men bang me at the last event, and I loved it. I didn’t even get their names,” she confesses in a whisper. “I didn’t want to know their names, Bridge.”
That makes me smile.
“Oh Marcy, that’s why we love you. Maybe we could—”
But my friend holds up a hand to stop me.
“Nope, we’re not talking about me right now. My non-Sanctum boyfriend is a dud, but I’ll figure it out. What we’re discussing is you, and how you’re being too hard on a guy who really cares about you. If you’re genuinely so distraught by what’s happened to the point that you don’t want to see Todd anymore, okay, I’ll support you. But before you make that decision, ask yourself if you’re willing to lose him over a romantic gesture he thought was sweet, and not cruel.”
I feel like sinking into the floor.
“Ugh. Why are you being so logical? I just want to rant about how much everything sucks, but you’re making good points here, which is ruining my vibe.”
Marcy laughs. “Sorry, B. You know better than to come to me if all you want is to feel sorry for yourself.”