As far as I knew, there was no instruction manual for how to handle seeing your ex-boyfriend on the arm of another woman at the dinner party your best friend was hosting, but if there was, I could guarantee step one wasn't to punch a bottle of wine onto the ground.
Naomi Loras didn't bat an eye as the caterers rushed to clean the mess, bringing towels and club soda. She simply shrugged and said, "I only needed a glass of Shiraz, baby girl, not the whole bottle."
The sommelier handed her a fresh glass and poured red wine into it.
My brain told me I should laugh this off, but I couldn't make my mouth move, especially not when Tommy kept looking at me with those deep forest green eyes of his. His chin-length brown hair swept back behind his ears. Artful stubble decorating his jaw.
He looked just like I remembered him.
Meanwhile, I was the same disaster I'd always been. The disaster he was ultimately too cool for. Our six-month-long relationship came rushing back to me as I stood in a Shiraz-soaked crime scene.
Tommy had once told me I was the clumsiest person he'd ever met. No. That wasn't his exact phrasing.
What he'd actually said was, "Mare, be glad you're so damn fine because you're clumsier than a drunk toddler, which is exactly why I can't bring you around my mates. If you dropped Dingo's guitar or put a hole through Scratch's drums, I'd have to leave you for good." His long, calloused finger slid under my chin, lifting my gaze to his. "And you don't want that, do you?"
I shook my head, desperate to prove I was worthy of him despite my shortcomings. "No, babe. Of course not. I need you."
"You need me?" Tommy's mouth had lifted in a half smile, and his free hand slipped up my skirt. His fingers slid beneath my panty line. "You like how wet I make this tight little cunt, don't you?"
I gasped at his touch, wanting him to want me. Wanting to be what he wanted me to be. His finger toyed with my wetness before rubbing painfully sweet circles around my spot.
"You're such a good little slut for me," Tommy whispered, "and I fucking love it."
"I love you too, babe."
I hadn't seen the manipulation then like I could now. The way he'd put me down and make me feel responsible for his comments. The way he held sex over my head then made me feel guilty about liking it so much. The way he never actually said he loved me.
It was a sick, twisted circle that I was glad to be out of. Yet I'd be lying if I'd said he still didn't have power over me.
In my catatonic state, covered in sticky red wine and unable to meet anyone's eye but Tommy's, Tan swooped in to rescue me.
"Let's get you cleaned up," she said in a forced calm. I nodded, trying to unglue my feet from the floor. Arm and arm, we walked towards DeShauna's master bathroom, as far away from Tommy as possible.
"Can you bring us a plate of dessert?" Tan asked the next caterer we passed.
"Dessert hasn't been served yet, ma'am."
"Does it look like I give a shit? We need chocolate."
Dessert plate in hand, we closed the bathroom door behind us and made ourselves comfortable on the rug.
I took a bite of a chocolate truffle, tasting caramel and sea salt. As quickly as it had came, my catatonic state ended and my emotional response kicked in.
This whole night was one big disaster. And it wasn't just tonight—it was every night. My entire life.
"I don't understand why I keep messing things up," I told Tan.
Tan scrunched her stenciled brows together. "What are you messing up?"
"Everything!" I said in exasperation. "For once, I want to attend an event and not be a nervous wreck. For once, I want things to go right. It would be so nice to not end up falling in a pool, or pepper spraying a guy by accident, or breaking a bottle of wine on a twenty thousand dollar rug."
"Wait, who did you pepper spray?" Tan asked, cutting into my rant. "How did I miss this?"
I let out a hiccup of laughter and then hid my face behind my hands. I'd conveniently left that detail out of the story of West auditioning for me.
"I may or may not of pepper sprayed West and then brought him back to my apartment and put coconut milk on his face."
I gave her a sheepish look, waiting for her to start laughing, but she didn't. Tan just gazed at me thoughtfully.
"You brought him back to your apartment? You never take guys to your place. Mare, why didn't you tell me all this?"
Because I didn't want to admit how much I'd enjoyed my time with West or how badly I was crushing on him.
Was being the operative word. I was over the crush.
"I don't know, Tan," I tried to explain. "I get weird around him."
"What do you mean, weird?"
I shifted my body so I was facing her. "I'm like this with him." I gestured between us. "Like how I am right now."
Tan lifted a brow. "Covered in wine?"
I let out another hiccup of laughter. "No, not covered in wine. I mean, I'm not professional Maren, the talent agent. I'm this bumbling messy blob that accidentally pepper sprays him in the face and falls into pools." I blew out a sigh. "If I keep being like this around him, West will eventually see what a mess I am and never take me seriously as his agent."
"Why are you so worried about that? What do you think will happen if he sees you as a human being and not a robot?"
I tried to form an answer to that but struggled. What was I afraid of? Was I scared to let West see me as a flawed, clumsy human instead of as my professional identity? He'd worked as a male stripper. It wasn't like he was an NYU trained thespian with professional expectations.
I shook my head. No, that might be part of it, but it wasn't all of it.
"When I let my guard down and act like Maren around people I want to impress, they don't like me," I told my best friend, who frowned.
"Are you talking about Eleanor?"
"Yes," I admitted, pushing hair out of my face. "But also Tommy."
It was Tan's turn to look disgusted. "What he did to you was classic narcissistic abuse. You know that, right? It wasn't your fault."
"I know. I've listened to all the podcasts and read all the books. But, that still doesn't help me trust other people with the real me." I ran my fingers through my hair, wishing I was as confident and comfortable in my own skin as Tan. She never would have been fooled by Tommy's nice side. "I gave up everything for Tommy. My job at Mitchell Enterprise. The shitty but dependable relationship I had with my mom and Christiane."
I blew out a frustrated breath. Even though my sister was a total Glinda the Good Witch, I still missed having her in my life.
Tears pressed their way into my eyes, but I continued. "I started my own business on the idea of being client-first and proving that I was better off with Tommy and without my family," my lower lip wobbled, "and then he cheated on me, like the end of our relationship was no big deal." Tears finally spilled over my lashes, and I wiped them away. "Now I have nothing. No family. No Tommy."
Tears choked off my words. I sobbed quietly for some time in silence. None of this was fair, and I hated feeling so helpless. But here I was, a twenty-eight year old woman sitting on a bathroom floor crying over a boy.
My best friend waited until my sobs slowed until she cleared her throat.
"You have me," Tan said encouragingly.
I set my hand on hers and squeezed. "Thank you."
"And me."
I looked up to find DeShauna standing in the doorway, smiling down at me. Tears came hot and fast down my cheeks.
"I'm so sorry I ruined your night—"
DeShauna held up a hand to stop me. "You didn't ruin my night." She sat beside Tan and me on the tiled floor, crossing her legs.
"That raggedy-ass man ruined my night. Who the hell did he think he was showing up at my apartment?" She shook her head, and Tan laughed.
"But your promotion—" I tried again. Jesus. I ruined her promotion party.
DeShauna shrugged. "I pulled Naomi aside and told her that Tommy was your ex and that he wasn't welcome in my home."
"You did?" I gasped.
"Mmhmm. I also told her he had a history of narcissistic abuse and that if she knew what was good for her, she'd make a clean break before he started getting nasty."
My mouth hung wide open. Tan gave DeShauna a high five.
DeShauna was the kind of friend who always told it like it was, but to her boss? I was amazed. "What did she say?" I asked.
DeShauna tossed her dreds over one shoulder. "Naomi told me she appreciated my honesty, and that she looked forward to my brand of openness as the firm's newest partner."
Tan shrieked with glee while I was still processing what DeShauna had said. Unfortunately, my brain was taking its time connecting the dots.
"So you still got the job, even though I ruined your rug?"
DeShauna gave me a pointed look. "Yes, I still made partner." Tan shrieked again, and a smile lifted the corners of my mouth. "And girl," DeShauna added, "you didn't ruin the rug. It's insured. Nobody buys a rug that expensive and doesn't plan for spills. I'll have it replaced. No big deal."
I couldn't believe it. I messed up and karate chopped a bottle of wine at a dinner party, and nothing bad was going to come of it? In fact, Tommy was going to lose his new girlfriend over it? These kinds of things didn't just happen to me.
"See," Tan said, rubbing my back. "You are your 'true self' around us, and we love you unconditionally. So what if you're a little clumsy? We all have our thing."
"I know that's right," DeShauna agreed. "I'm upfront and don't sugarcoat the truth. Not everyone likes that. I've lost plenty of friends and family because they don't like to hear what I have to say."
I loved DeShauna's openness. It was refreshing after being around so many passive-aggressive people in my life.
"And I'm absent-minded," Tan said with a sad smile. "How many times have I forgotten your birthdays or missed important events because I just forgot? It drives my medically-minded parents insane."
Tanushree wasn't wrong. She definitely was absent-minded. But I always expected her to forget things and sent her texts if I really didn't want her to miss a nail appointment or come to a play. It's just how our friendship worked.
"You're our girl, Maren. You'll always have us," Tan told me. Fresh tears fell down my cheeks. What did I ever do to deserve these women in my life?
DeShauna nodded. "Just like we know we'll always have you."
The three of us sat together in the bathroom, which now reeked of Shiraz, and the heaviness on my chest lifted just a little. Having their support didn't magically cure me of my struggles, but it made me feel more normal. They were right. We all had things about ourselves we didn't like, but that didn't mean we couldn't be loved.
"And," Tan said, brushing hair out of my face, "you also have a viral hashtag and a fan base that's interested in you."
I let out another sputtering laugh. "You mean they're interested in watching me fail."
"Not true." Tan pulled out her phone and opened up Instagram, then held it up for DeShauna and I to see. I saw my name on the trending list, and I didn't understand what that meant.
"It's been weeks, and even though #AllWashedUp is dying away, you're still trending, Maren," Tan explained. "People are still talking about you. Maybe you should write a blog or go all Carrie Bradshaw and write a column for Vogue."
"She's right," DeShauna said. "You have social momentum. You should capitalize on it."
"I'm not a writer. I'm a talent agent."
Tan gave me a sympathetic look, but it was DeShauna who spoke up. "Who told you that? That from now until forever you have to be one thing? When I first met you, you were an actress."
I didn't answer, and neither Tan nor DeShauna pushed for one. They just sat beside me as I wiped my eyes and hugged my knees to my chest as I sat with my discomfort.
I love how the girls build each other up here. It's so heartwarming.
A/N:
After a chat with my editorial coach, I've made a small change to West's job at The Oiled Olive. I made the decision to keep him working there as a stripper after Maren asks him to quit. He's still only doing it because Putnam is blackmailing him.
❤️ AJ