4. Don’t Dis The Espresso
4
DON’T DIS THE ESPRESSO
NEHA
I was two drinks in, halfway through my second slice of greasy, extra-cheesy pizza, and still, the ache in my chest hadn’t dulled. It probably never would, not entirely.
“You know”—Penny slammed her wine glass onto the coffee table with more force than necessary—“I could walk into Sterling tomorrow and dump an entire caramel macchiato on Ansel’s overpriced suit. And then maybe accidentally spill a second one on Vanessa, just for good measure.”
I let out a choked laugh. “Violence isn’t the answer.”
“No, but it is an answer,” she shot back, pointing at me with the crust of her pizza. “And a damn satisfying one.”
I curled my legs beneath me on our worn-out but ridiculously comfortable couch, letting my head fall back against the cushions. The horror of the day, the heartbreak, the sheer humiliation, all of it made me feel like I was ill, like I had the flu. My skin itched, my throat sore, my insides hurt.
I’d held it together during lunch, I had to give myself credit for that. I’d managed to walk out of there with my dignity intact. But now, in the safety of our cozy apartment, far away in Brooklyn from Sterling’s fancy offices in lower Manhattan, with my best friend next to me, I let myself break.
“I gave everything to that job.” I stared at the ceiling, my eyes wet. I’d been crying on and off since I got home. “Three years. Late nights, early mornings, doing work that wasn’t even mine just to make sure Ansel had everything he needed.”
Penny huffed. “You basically did half his job for him.”
“Please don’t say that,” I groaned. “That’s what Vanessa told him I was telling everyone.”
“Vanessa is a puss boil on a gnat’s ass,” Penny claimed.
I laughed at that imagery despite how shitty I was feeling.
“I did my job as his assistant—and maybe a little more. But he didn’t need me, Pen. Everyone is dispensable in corporate America.”
She arched a skeptical brow. “ Puhlease stop with the self-deprecation! You kept that Asshole In A Suit’s entire schedule running, prepped every report, fact-checked every analysis. You’re the reason he always looked like the most prepared guy in the room.” She took a long sip of wine before adding, “And the worst part? He knew it.”
“Yeah, that’s why he was going to fire me,” I retorted dryly.
That stung the most. I had never expected credit, never needed public acknowledgment. But I’d thought Ansel at least respected me. Instead, he’d talked about me like I was nothing.
“I think you made him feel insecure,” Penny said thoughtfully.
“Highly doubt it! The man doesn’t have a vulnerable bone in his body.”
Penny let out a long breath. “Darling, everyone has fears, we just have to stay ahead of them. You did. Don’t tell me you’re not scared shitless about quitting without having a job.”
I swallowed hard and reached for the tub of ice cream we’d abandoned on the table. Double chocolate fudge. Because if I was going to wallow, I was going to commit.
“I am scared…don’t know about the shitless part though,” I joked.
Penny nudged my foot with hers. “Hey. I know it feels like the end of the world right now, but this could be a good thing.”
I shot her a dubious look. “Right! I have no job. The man I’ve been pining over for three years thinks I’m a deceitful and desperate woman. I can’t see the silver lining, babe.”
She sat up and wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m the champion of silver linings! I’ve got the playbook for it.”
“Ugh. Did you just make a movie reference?” I shoved a spoonful of double chocolate fudge in my mouth.
“Bradley Cooper is a god and I would be happy to go on my knees in front of him to worship,” she admitted salaciously.
“By worshipping, I’m assuming you mean polish his….” I trailed off.
“Penis, darling. You can say the word.”
I made a face. “It’s just so…technical.”
“You prefer cock?”
“Too chicken.”
Penny grinned. “Dick?”
I waved my spoon, pointing to her. “Too Richard.” Rich (not Dick) was Penny’s ex and we were glad he was out of her life because he was a bit of a douche.
“Well, then you can go with member, organ, pee-pee?—”
“Pee-pee? How old is this member we’re talking about?”
Penny rolled her eyes. “There’s prick, knob, dipstick, ding-a-ling”—she tapped her chin—“trouser snake, boner, shaft, John Thomas, manhood, joystick, pencil….”
“Pencil dick? I don’t know if I’m interested in that.”
We laughed, and it felt damn good.
“So, I lost a barista this week.”
“Whatshisname quit?”
Penny shrugged. “I fired him. Had to. He was insufferable.”
“And?”
“And…” She grinned wide. “I think you should be my new barista.”
I nearly choked on my spoonful of ice cream. “You want me to go from investment banking to making lattes?”
Penny let out an exaggerated sigh. “First of all, don’t dis the art of espresso. Second, yes! Think about it. You’re finishing your MBA soon, you need time to work on your Capstone project, and this could be the perfect break from all that high-finance stress.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off.
“And before you say anything about money,” she added, leveling me with a look, “you’re not paying rent until you graduate and get a job. Consider it my graduation gift to you.”
I gaped at her. “Penny, no. I can’t?—”
“You can,” she interrupted. “And you will. Remember when I was struggling and you paid the rent?”
“The rent was less than half of what we pay now.” In college, we’d had to juggle finances—despite having tuition waivers because living in New York was expensive .
“We both had less money then so same difference.” She pushed some hair off my face and smiled kindly at me. “Neha, you’ve spent three years making some overpaid finance bro’s life easier while running yourself into the ground. Maybe it’s time someone took care of you for a change.”
My throat tightened. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” I murmured, voice thick.
She grinned. “You kept me from failing stats in undergrad.”
“True.”
“You also helped me pay rent when I didn’t have money, helped send money to my mother when she was sick, held my hand when Mom died, and ate ice cream with me after all my really awful breakups….”
“You’ve also done stuff for me, Pen.”
“Yes! Exactly! We take care of each other.” She held up her wine glass. “So, here’s to you. To quitting toxic jobs. To enjoying a well-earned break.”
I clinked my ice cream spoon against her glass. “And, to never wasting another second on Ansel Tyler!”