Page 64 of Sincerely, Up Yours

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I was planning to stew and marinate in my anger. That was me. The girl in a big old pot full of annoyance, frustration, the occasional shameful dirty dream about her old boss, and stubbornness. And I planned to keep my ass right there in that pot for as long as I had to.

I headed to Jasmine’s office with a thumb drive in hand. It had all the elements of my pitch laid out in agonizing detail. I’d researched every damn scholarship on the planet at this point. I’d vetted them and figured out which ones were legit. I even interviewed students who had worked with the legit ones. The thumb drive in my hands represented hours and hours of work. Somehow, it felt like it was also the last dim light of hope in my life. It was what I’d been clinging to before Dominic came along, and if I couldn’t find a way to make this happen, I wasn’t sure what I could cling to.

I took a deep breath, then let myself in Jasmine’s office. AtThe Squawker, it had been completely up to her. She was the lead editor, and any decision about the magazine’s content basically rested in her hands. Here, she was a team of editors, who reported to a lead editor who then reported to a content analyst, who then fed information up the chain to analytic experts, then a PR team, and finally to the board of directors who reviewed everything. Basically, she had the power to toss the ball up, but several other people had to catch it and keep tossing it upwards after that for the idea to land.

“Hey,” I said.

Jasmine smiled. “I loved your last piece on the kidnapped journalist. I think you really skirted the line between drumming up sympathy without making it feel like you had too much of an agenda. It was really perfect.”

“Oh, thanks,” I said. Honestly, I barely remembered the piece. The work here felt more like moving through motions mindlessly than any kind of creative exercise. “I was actually hoping I could show you something. It’s my pitch fromThe Squawker, but I’ve been really working to clean it up. I even did a fresh pass last week to make it fit more with the direction ofThe Union Coast,and–”

Jasmine gave a tight smile that said everything. She knew this sort of thing didn’t happen. Writers didn’t pitch ideas. We didn’t rock the boat. Everybody just showed up and did the work. The big ideas were for the higher-ups. But Jasmine was nice enough to recover quickly and smile wider, sticking her hand out for the drive. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got, shall we?”

I handed it to her and hovered over her shoulder, giving my practiced breakdown of all the elements. She nodded politely and said encouraging words at several points. When it was all over, she took a long breath and swiveled in her chair to face me with hands in her lap. “I’m going to level with you, Darcy. I can’t pass this along. Do I think it’s brilliant? Obviously, I do. But there are some complicated politics in management here. One of the guys above me thinks I’m gunning for his job. If I send this along, he’s going to think I’m trying to prove I can make bigger calls and want out of editing. He happens to golf with a guy on the board of directors, which means he can shit-talk me out of work as much as he wants.”

My stomach suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I was surprised when my face twitched and emotion welled up in my throat.Don’t cry. Do not cry.I smiled and shook my head, even as tears welled in my eyes. “It’s totally fine. I get it. I’ll just take this and get out of your hair.”

“Darcy,” Jasmine said, standing and hugging me tight. “I’m sorry. I really am. But this just isn’t the sort of place where you’ll get to have that kind of voice. It’ll be easier if you accept that.”

Tears fell freely now. I wasn’t just crying because of the pitch. At least I didn’t think I was. I was crying because I’d been hanging onto this last little flicker of hope for months now. I’d lostThe Squawker.I’d lost Dominic. I’d lost seeing my friends every day and traded it for the “professionals” I worked with now, who barely left their offices and never wanted to meet up after work. It felt like I hadn’t had a win in so long. I just wanted a win. Was that so much to ask?

Jasmine misunderstood my crying and hugged me tighter. “I’m so sorry, Darcy. You know, if it would help, I could talk to Bryce. Maybe he could take a look and pass it up the line?”

I could tell from her tone she was only trying to help calm me down. She was right. Of course she was. This sort of thing didn’t happen atThe Union Coast.I was spinning my wheels. “Yeah, sure,” I said, voice still thick with emotion. “I’ll run it by him. It’s no big deal.”

I went back to my office and locked the door. I sat down with my back against the door and sank to the floor. I’d cried my eyes out in Jasmine’s office, but all I felt now was numb. What was next? What now?

Somehow, I felt like the one person on Earth who would understand how I felt right now was Dominic. Even though our dreams had been different, I felt like we were driven by similar forces. He would’ve understood and known what to say. Then again, knowing what to say and being nice enough to say it were two different things.

I gave a tearful smile when I pictured sobbing my guts out to him only for him to scoff. Then I imagined him telling me to “suck it up, Buttercup. Dreams are for fairy tales, and you’re no princess.”

I shook my head at the thought. The truth was I didn’t actually think he’d have said that. Dominic had been sweet and he did care about my feelings most of the time. The man who stepped in to defend me from my father would’ve felt for me right now. He would’ve put his arms around me. Maybe all he would’ve said was, “I’m here,” but God, I could’ve used that right about then.

I hugged my arms around my raised knees and closed my eyes. How did things get so fucked up?

35

DARCY

The bar, like so many others, played their music too loud. Maybe it was a sign that I was getting older, but I really didn’t understand the appeal of music so loud you had to shout all night to be heard. Maybe that was why I always saw thirty-something moms hanging out at more quiet but lame places like chain restaurants with over-priced cocktails. At least the music wasn’t so loud and there were fewer desperate guys hitting on you.

We had all taken a booth in the back tonight because Charleston was able to join us, making our group a little too large for the bar. He had his phone out and was handling some kind of work emergency with a grimace on his smooth features.

Farhad was listening to Polly and Elizabeth, but I could tell from his expression that he was thinking about something else.

I’d been zoning out until I heard Polly mention Dominic’s name. They weren’t stupid, and they knew he was more than sore subject–he was like an infected, abscessed wound I was refusing to go to a doctor to have seen. I perked up at his name and they both froze, realizing their mistake.

“But it wasn’t a big deal,” Polly said quickly.

“What did he do?” I asked.

Elizabeth and Polly shared a careful look. “He’s just being him,” Elizabeth said.

“How has he been, anyway?” I asked. I didn’t want to ask. I shouldn’t have asked. It was like scratching a mosquito bite. Leave it alone, and the itch would pass. Give it one tiny scratch and suddenly it was all you could think about.

“Girl,” Charleston said, setting his phone down. I must’ve been worse than I thought, because Charleston didn’t drop work problems until they were solved. His phone was still buzzing angrily as he stared at me, completely locked in. “You sure you want to go down that road?”

“I don’t know,” I said, hanging my head. “But I just pitched my thing to Jasmine today and it was a disaster. I mean, the pitch went fine, but she pretty much confirmed what I already knew. You don’t make pitches atThe Union Coast.You act like a good little worker bee and stay in your office. You type and type and type and do everything in your power to keep any emotion out of the piece.” I could feel myself getting emotional again so I stopped and tried to take a steadying breath. “So no, I don’t know if I want to go down that road again. But right now, I am looking back on the little time we had together and thinking maybe it wasn’t so bad. And I’m curious to know how he has been since we split.”


Tags: Penelope Bloom Romance