7. Chapter Seven
Chapter seven
Inés
Sleep comes surprisingly easy. Before I realize it, the light of a new day is spilling through the blinds.
I get up, stretch out my sore muscles, and head to the bathroom for a quick shower. The hot water feels good against my skin, washing away some of the exhaustion from last night.
I'm prepared to put on my robe again, but I'm surprised to see that there's a pile of clean clothes folded on the counter, along with a note from Ruth-Ann:
Thought you might need these. We're about the same size, though maybe not as skinny anymore! Enjoy the bagel from the shop below.
I smile, touched by her thoughtfulness, and quickly dress in the soft leggings and oversized sweater she left for me. The leggings are a bit short but that doesn't matter.
Downstairs, Ruth is behind the counter when I walk into the store. She looks up and grins when she sees me.
"Morning," she says cheerfully, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Bagel's in the toaster. I already had mine. Coffee?"
"Yes, please." I join her behind the counter, grateful for the caffeine. I still can't believe I'm here, standing in her shop again after so many years apart. It feels surreal and comforting all at once.
"So, girlie," She glances at me as she hands over a steaming mug. "You want the full story, or the short version?"
I raise an eyebrow, confused. "About what?"
She sighs, setting down her coffee and turning to face me fully. "About this little group we're a part of."
Oh. That. What Diane mentioned last night. I nod slowly, not sure what to expect from this conversation.
"Okay, so it started back in the day when I was still at that little press with you," Ruth begins, leaning against the counter.
"There were a few of us, women who got tired of seeing other women getting pushed around or screwed over in this business.
We'd meet up for drinks and vent about our bosses, the sexism, all that bullshit. "
She shakes her head with a wry smile. "And girlie, along the way, we realized that if we could just look out for each other... Well, it made things a little easier, you know?"
I nod, understanding where she's going with this.
"Over time, we started helping each other out more. Sharing job leads, warning about bad agents or publishers... And it grew into this network of women who had each other's backs. I moved to the borough and started my shop, and we'd meet here sometimes, in the back room."
Ruth gestures to a door behind her. "That's where it all happens now. I host meetings for us every few months or whenever something big goes down. It's nothing official; just a bunch of girlies trying to survive in a man's world."
I take a sip of my coffee, feeling the warmth spread through me. It's comforting to know there's a whole group out there like Ruth-Ann. A bunch of strong women who understand what it's like to be overlooked and undervalued.
"Like I said," she continues, "I'm the one who gives out that number when someone needs it.
Diane's the historian...she remembers everything about this business and everyone in it.
And we have others... Bess is an agent who helps us make connections when we need them; Solene, who's just starting out but has a lot of good ideas.
The network is bigger than just us here in New York, too. "
I blink at that, impressed by the scale of this underground sisterhood. "That's incredible."
She shrugs modestly. "It's nothing special, really. Just women doing what women do best: taking care of each other."
The bagel pops up from the toaster then, and Ruth hands it to me with a small tub of cream cheese. "Now," she says, her tone changing slightly. "Tell me what's on your mind about last night."
I hesitate for a moment, not sure where to start. But then the words just pour out: my feelings about Harrison and Margaux, how Cynthia manipulated everything behind the scenes, my fears for the future...
Ruth listens attentively, nodding every now and then but never interrupting until I finish.
The version I tell her this morning is more composed and measured. I tell her I feel like my work and life are being erased, but I also admit that Harrison still matters to me deeply. I can't let go of him that easily.
"Well," she says slowly when I'm done talking. "It sounds to me like you're at a crossroads, honey. And only you can decide which way to go from here."
I nod, knowing she's right. But it's so hard to imagine walking away from everything I've built with Harrison...even if it feels like he's already leaving me behind.
"I'll have you know, this isn't the first time Margaux tried something like this. She's been moving from man to man in this industry for years, girlie." Ruth sips her coffee. "And every time she ends up burning bridges or stepping on people who cared about her."
That gives me pause. Maybe there's more to Margaux than I realized; a pattern of using people for her own gain. It doesn't excuse what Harrison and Cynthia have done, but it makes me feel slightly less...crazy, I guess.
"Either way," Ruth continues, "you've got support now. Whatever you decide to do next, know that you're not alone."
Her words fill me with a renewed sense of strength. Yes, things are messy right now, and yes, my marriage may be on the rocks, but I don't have to face any of it by myself anymore. And maybe that's all I needed to hear.
We finish our coffee and bagels in comfortable silence before Ruth gets busy with her work. She suggests I take the day off, relax, and think about what comes next.
As I go back upstairs to the apartment, I feel a little lighter, a little more hopeful. I still don't know how this will all end up, but for the first time in a long time, I feel like I might actually have a fighting chance.
And as I settle onto the bed with my phone in hand, ignoring the calls and texts from work, I decide I'm going to do something for me. Something just for me.