"I'm resigning, that's all there is to it. Let me know what you need from me to get it done." I stand from the chair and turn to leave.
"Quitting like this won't get you a recommendation from this company," he blurts out as I reach the door. "And it's the only job you've ever had, so it won't be easy getting another job in the industry."
I turn to face him, my hand on the doorknob and a sad smile on my face. "If I'm lucky, I'll never even look at this industry again." I leave his office without a single glance back.
I had already packed my tote bag before walking into Brian's office, so I grab it now and walk out of the building, not saying a word to anybody. I can practically feel people's surprised glances follow me out—it’s only 4:00 and no one has ever seen me leave even a minute before 5:00.
But right now I don't give a flying fuck. I feel too good, too free, for the first time in a long time. I don't want to spend another second of the day being unhappy.
Part of me wants to go to the gym, not caring that I would probably run into Tristan. But for some reason the rest of me doesn't find the idea of a workout appealing. I know I need to deal with the gym issue soon—I will never be the kind of girl that quits something solely because of a boy—but that day is not today. Right now, I feel myself wanting to do something new and exciting. Something that I've always wanted to do but have put off for one reason or another.
And maybe it's my current 'fuck everybody' mentality, but I find myself pulling my phone out to run an internet search. A minute later, I hear my call ringing out.
"Hi, my name is Remy. Do you by any chance have any availability for a cut and color today?"
23
Remy
I try to remind myself for the millionth time that I love Jax's parents and already promised them that I would be there to celebrate their anniversary.
Every part of me dreads going to this party. There isn't a chance that Tristan doesn't go, which means I'll definitely run into him at some point tonight. My only hope for that not happening is if Mr. and Mrs. Turner invited enough people to actually fill their massive house. For the first time in my life, I'm hoping for a crowded party.
I turn to the mirror again to study my reflection. Even in my miserable state, I can admit it's a shame that I'm not more excited to wear this dress. A few weeks ago, Hailey helped me pick out a cocktail dress specifically for tonight, since Jax's parents love to throw formal parties. It's a simple design, a solid burgundy piece of satin that reaches all the way to the floor. But with a subtle neckline, backless design, and a thigh high slit on one side, the dress is clearly a showstopper. I run my hands over my hips where the fabric hugs my curves.
I added my silver ankle strap heels and a pair of dangly silver earrings. My newly blonde hair is curled and tucked back on one side with a single silver clip. I find myself wishing, more than anything, that I felt as beautiful as my reflection looks staring back at me.
My phone buzzes with a text message.
Jax: I'm here
I grab the nude lipstick to touch up my color and tuck it into my black clutch next to my phone. With a final glance at my despondent reflection, I take a deep breath and head downstairs.
Jax is parked in front of my apartment building, scrolling through something on his phone as he waits for me. And even though I often see him dressed in suits for work, I still smile at the sight of him. He will always be the center of attention in any room, but especially when he's dressed in a fitted black suit.
He looks up from his phone as I'm walking down the last few steps to the sidewalk. A small part of me takes pleasure in his double take when he sees my outfit. His jaw drops and he doesn't take his eyes off me as I round the car to open the passenger door.
"Jesus Christ, Remy," he exclaims as I take my seat. "You're a fucking bombshell." He's openly gaping, though after a moment he clears his head by shaking it and shooting me a small glare. "But you do realize that showing up looking like that is not going to help us convince Grandma Birdie that I shouldn't be swooning over you and begging you to marry into the family, right?"
I flash Jax a tight smile as I carefully arrange my dress around me. "I don't think anything is capable of convincing Grandma Birdie to give up on her idea of us together. It doesn't matter what I wear. But thank you. You're quite a showstopper yourself, as always." I turn to Jax with another smile, even though I can feel that it doesn't quite reach my eyes.
This whole evening is going to be painful if I don't start faking my smiles better.
Jax studies me closely for a moment. Even if I were the greatest actress in the world, he would still be able to tell that I'm miserable. And once again I think about how thankful I am for his friendship, for him understanding that I need space and not pressuring me for an explanation.
Without a word, he leans over and gently kisses my cheek. "You really do look beautiful," he says softly. He turns to face forward, ready to take us to the suburbs. But he pauses and, without looking at me, says, "Whatever it is, it'll work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out yet, then it's not the end."
I look out the window and try to will my tears not to fall. He doesn't wait for my reaction before he pulls out into traffic.
* * *
My wish for a packed party is pretty close to reality. By the time we pull up to the large house, there are two dozen cars parked on the property and multiple couples walking up the long driveway. Jax weaves my hand through his arm as we start the walk toward the party.
I take a deep breath when we step through the front door. I know a lot of the Turners’ family and friends, so my plan is to busy myself with as many people as possible.
So as to avoid the temptation of looking around for a certain person.
Sure enough, it doesn't take long for Jax and I to be stopped by his family members. I let go of Jax's arm in an attempt to keep the older women in his family from yet again assuming that we're dating, but I don't get very far before he grabs a hold of my pinky. He never looks away from the conversation that he's engaged in, yet I get the feeling that he's trying to physically anchor me to his side to convince himself that I'm nearby and in one piece. I smile gratefully at the back of my best friend's head.