5. Nikki
My friend Penny Littletonlived in a cool refurbished factory in Soho. Her husband, Marcus, had been living there when he hired Penny as his dog walker. Seeing my bright, smiley friend end up with such a dour man had been a surprise, but I’d seen glimmers of Marcus’s personality since then.
Like how whenever he liked one of Penny’s outfits, he’d ask her if it was from the Littleton Collection, which I learned was an inside joke between them from Penny blurting out that particular lie to a snooty sales associate at a designer department store.
She’d upcycled the dress herself, using her amazing sewing skills.
Marcus thought it was hilarious and reminded her of it at every opportunity.
These days, Penny didn’t spend much time in thrift stores. She had a child and a dog and had been absorbed by Marcus’s vibrant family—but she still made time for me.
A couple of days after my strange car ride with my billionaire ex-boss, I sat on one of the bar stools next to her kitchen island and enjoyed a margarita with a perfect salt rim. Holding it in my good hand, I let the tart, fresh drink lift my mood.
“So, wait,” Penny said, arranging a few dried apricots on the charcuterie board she was putting together. “The perfume bottle fell on you, shattered, injured you, and then they fired you?”
I nodded. “Yep. And then, weirdly, my boss picked me up from the hospital.”
“That Ophelia woman?”
I shook my head. “No. The big boss. Rome Blakely. The guy whose name is on the building.”
Marcus had been frowning at his phone until then, his dog’s head resting in his lap. At my words, he looked up. “Rome Blakely picked you up from the hospital?”
“Weird, right? He told me he wanted me to come in on Monday to discuss things.”
Penny checked the baby monitor to make sure her toddler was still sleeping soundly, then shifted her gaze to me. “What does he want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I was exhausted and kind of woozy, so I wasn’t exactly on my game. But it kind of seemed like he was probing for information somehow.”
“Hmm,” Penny replied, frowning.
“There was one good thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
I smiled. “He had really good chocolate, said he flew it in from Belgium. So I got to eat that on the way home, at least.”
“I can make you a T-shirt: ‘I got fired from the Blakely Advertising Agency and all I got was a delicious Belgian chocolate bar (and this T-shirt).’”
Snorting, I grabbed a grape. “Seems a bit wordy.”
“Let me brainstorm something better. ‘I met Rome Blakely and all I got was a gash on my arm and a ride in his limo.’”
“‘I got fired from Blakely and all I got was an hour with a giant dildo.’”
Penny laughed, and I crunched down on my snack, grinning.
Across the room, Marcus stood and drifted closer. Bear, the dog, jumped off the couch and followed at his side before trotting over to Penny to demand scratches. Penny obliged, her smile still pointed at me. While she scratched, the red-and-white polka-dot dog collar around Bear’s neck wiggled back and forth. It was one of Penny’s creations, and it was adorable.
Marcus leaned a hip on the kitchen island and crossed his arms. His scowl was pointed in my direction. “Was Blakely trying to intimidate you?”
I cut off a chunk of smoked gouda and put it on a fancy multigrain cracker that had definitely come from a specialty grocery store that was too expensive for the likes of me. Glancing at Marcus before taking a bite, I said, “I don’t think so. He did give me a chocolate bar.” The gouda was creamy and delicious, with the perfect amount of smoke flavor. The cracker had a bit of sweetness, and the whole thing was like tasting nirvana. I groaned. “Penny. This cheese is divine.”
“Isn’t it? Try the Brie.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, spinning the board around so I could get at the good stuff.
“And he gave you no sign about what he wanted to talk about at this meeting?” Marcus asked, still frowning.
I tore my gaze away from the cheese and shrugged. “He said he wanted to discuss options, and that he was sure we could come to a mutually beneficial solution.”
“Hot,” Penny said.
I rolled my eyes, laughing.
Marcus pulled his phone out. “Do you have representation?”
Cheese knife in hand and busy strategizing about the Brie, all I responded was, “Huh?”
“Are you bringing a lawyer?” he clarified.
I paused, a hunk of cheese stuck to the knife. My eyes were wide as I stared at Marcus. “Do you think that’s necessary?”
“Absolutely.”
Suddenly, the Brie didn’t seem so appetizing. I swallowed thickly, staring at the soft white cheese, my heart thumping a little bit harder. “You think they’re trying to sue me?”
“I think you need to make sure you have support,” Marcus said, then put his phone to his ear. “Phil, thanks for taking my call. I need a favor.”
Penny let out a besotted sigh. “I just love him,” she said, smiling at her husband.
Meanwhile, the image of my quickly dwindling bank account flashed across my mind. I cleared my throat. “Listen, guys, I really appreciate this, but…”
Marcus finished his call and hung up the phone. He arched a brow. “But?”
“But I’m not… I don’t think… It just seems a bit much, is all. I don’t think I need a big-shot lawyer with me for a simple meeting.”
“Phil Phillips is one of the best lawyers?—”
“His name is Phil Phillips?” Penny interrupted. “Did his parents hate him?”
Marcus’s gaze fell on his wife, and some sort of silent communication happened between them. For a moment, I felt like I was intruding on a charged, intimate moment. After a while, when Penny’s cheeks had flushed red, Marcus let his hand drift to her lower back and shifted his gaze back to me. “Phil Phillips is one of the best lawyers in the city. He’s happy to give you an hour of his time.”
“See, the thing is”—I cleared my throat—“I’m not sure I can exactly afford an hour of his time.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Marcus said, gaze dropping to the charcuterie. He picked up a little bundle of prosciutto cut so thin it was nearly transparent. “Monday’s meeting is covered. If you need his advice beyond that, we can talk about it then. I have work to do.” He ate the meat, planted a kiss on his wife’s temple, then disappeared down the hall.
Bear, torn, took a few steps to follow then reconsidered and stayed close to Penny—and the charcuterie board.
Penny smiled at the hallway. “Isn’t he just a sweetheart?”
He was gruff and grumpy and didn’t seem to like many people besides Penny, his kid, his nieces and nephews, and his mom, but sure. He was a sweetheart. I arched my brows at my friend. “Are you sure it’s okay for this Phil Phillips guy to come with me?”
“Of course!” Penny beamed at me, flicking her red hair over her shoulder. “Marcus is right, you know. You shouldn’t be going in there on your own.”
“Right,” I answered, grateful and uncomfortable all at once. Penny and I had known each other before she married into wealth, and it was still strange to see her circumstances changed so dramatically. I was grateful for her help, of course, and I loved her company. She was a great friend.
I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was a placeholder. I slotted in conveniently to the place in her life that required easy friendship. I was someone she could call over for a simple charcuterie board, and she knew she didn’t have to dress up or try to impress me.
I hated having those thoughts. I knew Penny had a big heart. But there had been so many things in my life lately that shook my confidence and my self-esteem a little too violently. I wasn’t sure where I belonged anymore. I wasn’t sure if I’d squandered one too many chances to make something of myself.
“Have you seen Bonnie lately?” Penny asked.
I nodded. “We went shopping together last weekend. I haven’t talked to her about this, though.” I lifted the splint on my finger.
“Hmm,” said Penny.
“I’m catching up with her next week. Why?”
“I think she’s screening my calls.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Weird, right?”
It was weird, and I wondered if Bonnie was like me—unsure of exactly where she stood in the world and in our friend group.
“I’ll see if anything is up when I see her,” I said, then looked down as Bear came over to my side of the island to inspect whether I’d dropped any tasty morsels on the ground for him to enjoy. Finding nothing, he sat down and panted at me, hopeful.
I rubbed his head and smiled. “If everyone were as simple to understand as you are, Bear, life would be a lot easier.”
He tilted his head, one of his gigantic ears prickling. Then he licked his chops and put his paw on my leg, and I laughed.
If only Rome Blakely were motivated by the promise of food, I’d know how to deal with him. As it was, I had to prepare for a Monday meeting with no idea what I’d be facing.