Chapter 36
I’m a ghost of my former self. No job. No mom.
Nothing to do for the first time in over ten years, except cry and sleep.
So I revert to doing the only thing I know I’m good at: telling people what to do.
It’s not like I have a ton going on, having been fired.
Ethos hasn’t gotten back to me either. At this point, I’m pretty sure I didn’t get the job.
Xiomara said they wanted to fill the position fast. They would have told me already.
Still in my pajamas, with fingers dyed orange from inhaling Doritos three times a day, I go through a website where people post their questions and existential doubts and choose to answer the ones that don’t send me into a pit of depression.
Relationships are what I’m known for, the reason people sought me out at Ellas, but my life is such a mess that I can’t bring myself to answer those.
Next to my laptop, my phone lights up with a text.
I half expect it to be Simón. He texted me a couple days ago, I’m guessing when he found out us kissing was now national news, but I didn’t answer. The best thing he could have done was hit the brakes on us when he did. The worst thing I can do is open that door again.
But it’s not Simón at all. I would be disappointed if I wasn’t so surprised.
Eugenia: Good morning, Maria Antonieta. Please stop by my office today at two. Don’t be late.
My breath bottles up in my chest as I read the text over and over.
She can’t be serious. She ran a story about me and didn’t even give me a heads-up.
For her to text, out of nowhere, demanding that I go see her is so…
Eugenia. I shouldn’t even entertain the idea of going.
I should block her. I’m not finishing the article, I’m not getting back together with Alejandro, and she’s already given my job to someone else.
I lock and unlock my phone, trying to decide if I should text her back or not. Her words do not suggest she’s awaiting a reply.
Ugh, who am I kidding? Eugenia wants to see me. Of course I’m going to go.
—
Blanca jumps to her feet the second she sees me walk into the office.
“First of all, you look gorgeous,” she says. “Secondly, what are you doing here?”
Nervously, I look around for any sign of my ex-boss. “Eugenia asked me to come.”
Blanca gasps. “Why?”
“I have no idea,” I admit.
“Do you think she’s going to offer you a job? After—” Blanca drops her voice as she scans the floor but no one else has noticed my presence. “The photos.”
“I—”
“Is that Maria Antonieta?” Eugenia calls from her office, causing everyone to shift their attention from their laptops to me. “Send her in.”
A soft murmur floats around the office as I follow Eugenia’s command. What used to feel like creative freedom for me now feels like fear. Everyone walks on eggshells around here.
I halt when I reach what used to be my desk. Sure enough, my replacement sits there, impossibly long legs crossed, reapplying bloodred lipstick. She notices me through her pocket mirror and smiles, a catlike smile she hadn’t shown in Margarita. Now this will be a perfect mini-Eugenia.
“Maria,” she says with a grin. “So great to see you again so soon.”
“Likewise,” I lie.
“I take it you didn’t give Simón my phone number,” she says, her smile sharper.
The murmur around us grows.
“Maria Antonieta,” Eugenia calls again.
“I have to—” I vaguely gesture to Eugenia’s office and leave.
Dragging that conversation on isn’t going to do either of us any good. With my luck, I’ll end up confessing I no longer talk to Simón. Before I know it, there’ll be a headline tomorrow claiming I’m Simón’s groupie and that he left me because my toxic personality drives men away.
Eugenia’s office looks exactly the same as when I left, and so does she.
I don’t know what I was expecting, it’s only been two months, but it’s like stepping into the past. If an iPad materialized under my arm and she asked me about my plans for the week, I wouldn’t be surprised.
It’d be like I was coming back after my annual vacation.
Eugenia perks up when she sees me, eyebrows raised to a level I didn’t know her Botox allowed.
“Please, come in.” She gestures to the chair across from her. “Long time no see.”
Now, that is new. Usually, she leaves me standing by the door.
“How have you been?” she asks.
“I’ve been…” I blink. “I’m sorry, what am I doing here? You know I couldn’t finish the article.”
Never mind that everything I did with Simón proved to be helpful, if one did indeed want to get one’s ex back.
She clicks her tongue, a wolfish smile on her lips. “Oh, yes. I do.”
I know she’s referencing the article she let my replacement write and publish. I can see in her black eyes she wants me to ask about it. I won’t give her the satisfaction. After a beat of silence, she sighs with a roll of her eyes and leans forward in her chair.
“I’m writing a piece on Talento V,” she says, like I should know this already.
“But I don’t want it to be a here’s this new talent show that could save Venezuelan TV from sinking deeper into the ocean type of thing.
I want the juicy details.” She drums her fingernails on the glass surface of her desk.
“Who better than you, a former employee in the production, to fill me in on those?”
She must be joking.
I wish I was surprised.
“I want to know it all,” she continues. “The struggles of putting this show together, the rivalry between Irina Montalbán and Viviana Camacho, the burning romance happening behind the scenes…” A dramatic pause hangs between us at that. The burning romance. Me. “Tell me everything.”
My hand tightens around my purse, resting on my lap. “Eugenia—”
“Help me with this little project and I will give you that promotion you want so badly,” she says.
I never thought of Eugenia as the most ethical journalist out there, but this is unexpected.
The offer keeps me in my seat. I don’t have a job.
I have money saved up from what I made on the show, but that won’t last forever.
I’m not going back to Talento V when the live shows start.
I’ve stopped waiting for Ethos to contact me. It would solve a problem, but…
“You would do that?”
“Of course,” she says. No hesitation. “I mean, I would rather keep you giving love advice, especially since you’re now dating a celebrity, but if you’re too tired of the glamour, you can join my staff in Arts and Culture.”
“Huh.”
Even after I begged, after I was willing to humiliate myself and Alejandro by writing a piece on our private affairs, she wouldn’t promote me for my work ethic or talent or merit.
I’ve wanted this job, this offer, more than anything for years.
But I’m never going to grow if I come back here.
I’ll be a writer forever; she’ll make sure of it.
She won’t promote me to editor because it wouldn’t be convenient for her.
I’d walk on eggshells, like the rest of the office, afraid of being fired again after the smallest mistake.
“I’m sorry, Eugenia, I can’t,” I say. “I signed an NDA.”
“We’re in Venezuela,” she reminds me.
True. A lawless country where everyone does as they want, where justice is basically nonexistent. But if we all think like her, we will continue to be that Venezuela forever.
I shrug. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I sigh, feeling the next words in my mouth before I pronounce them.
I’m not going to regret this. “I would have loved to continue working for you, Eugenia, but if after five years of knowing each other the only reason you’d give me a promotion is if I screw someone else over, then I don’t want it. ”
With that, I push myself to my feet and walk out, my phone already in my hand.
Yo: Hola, Mileidy. I’m sure it’s surprising to hear from me after what happened in Margarita. I wanted to let you know that a journalist approached me today to get inside information about the show. I think they were looking for dirt. Just thought you should know.
Yo: I’m sorry if I made your life difficult, and I’m sorry for being unprofessional. Thank you for taking me on when I needed a job. Best of luck moving forward.
Blanca sprints up when she notices I’m out of Eugenia’s office, her big doe eyes screaming, What happened?!
“I’m not coming back,” I tell her. The full scoop of what happened today needs to be discussed over coffee.
Blanca leans over her desk, pulling me in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you!”
I giggle, hugging her back. “Right. Yay, unemployment!”
My phone vibrates again. I leave my former office with a promise to get together later and fill her in.
While I do have some savings, I’m not exactly swimming in money. But I can’t resist stopping by the coffee shop downstairs, saying hello to my favorite barista, and getting a warm cup to go.
I check my texts as I wait in line.
Mileidy: Oh, please, don’t worry about that. I only hired you because your mother threatened to leave the show if I didn’t.
She what?!
The man behind me clears his throat. I look up and realize two people have moved up while I was reading.
Mileidy: Even your pay came from a chunk of hers. There’s no such thing as a temporary assistant. But you did make our lives easier.
Mileidy: Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it. Good luck with everything. Simón is a good kid.
Yes. He is. But I don’t linger on that.
I owe my mother the biggest apology in history.