Chapter 11
CHAPTER
VAL AND KIKI wait at a table outside. Kiki’s in her usual post-yoga Lululemon set and Val looks polished in a yellow silk blouse and pencil skirt.
After washing my hand and blotting away the bloody streaks, I take a seat, toy with the chocolate croissant they’ve ordered me.
I don’t know what I’d do without them. They’ve been my life raft.
Both were shocked and incensed at Bruce’s betrayal.
I haven’t given them all the gory details (they’re not pushing, giving me time), just that it was his assistant, Mackenzie, and wasn’t a one-off.
They do know about the documents he tricked me into signing and were beyond furious on my behalf.
They found Cameron, made lists of everything I should ask for, and have tirelessly listened to me rant and cry.
“How are you doing today?” Kiki asks, reaching for my hand.
“Same but different day. Mad and sad,” I tell my friends between sips of the cappuccino they ordered me. The acid bites into my stomach—I haven’t been eating much.
“Bruce is the one who should be miserable,” Val snaps. “He should’ve kept his dick in his pants for the last eight months and kissed the ground you walk on.”
The gears in my brain spin, slip, stick as I try to keep up with the conversation. Lately my thoughts have been all over the place—no sleep, bad dreams, Mama J’s snide remarks, and an overwhelming sense of doom make it hard to think clearly.
“Next steps?” Val asks.
She’s always been the practical one. “I need to reinvent myself. There are no guarantees that I’ll get much support from Bruce.”
“Can your parents help?” Kiki asks.
I shake my head, scramble for a white lie.
“They would, but I don’t want to ask. I need to figure this out myself.
Get used to standing on my own.” Val and Kiki have offered me money, as much as I need to get on my feet again.
But loans can sour friendships. I need them too much to risk that.
They’re not only best friends, but anchors that moor me to the life Mama J told me was out of reach. Without them, I’ll be adrift.
Sitting up straighter, I share, “Tonight, I’m going to a computer programming course.
Hopefully, it’ll help me figure out job possibilities.
” My resume is sparse. I was a barista in a coffee shop in high school, did work-study as part of my scholarship, built a client database management program for Crosby & Stone and was the company’s sole IT support, but that was off the books.
I don’t think volunteer tech support for the school system would count. I’ve never held a real job.
“You’re one of the smartest people I know,” Kiki says. “You’ll figure it out in no time!”
“I’d suggest a shower first,” Val adds.
I chuckle. “Thanks for being my friends,” I say, getting a little teary, “even when I smell.”
Val gives my forearm a rare pat. “Always.”
I start to leave, then sit back down. “Hey, can I record each of you making a statement?”
“Why?” Kiki asks.
“I’ve been fiddling with my old thesis.” They don’t need to know the extent of my growing obsession.
Val glances at her watch. “Sure, then I need to scram for an appointment with my accountant. What do you want me to say?”
I pull out my phone, finger hovering over record, and consider. “How about, ‘I knew Bruce was a cheater.’ ”
“Seriously?” Val asks, taken aback.
“Yeah, I need an obvious lie.” It’s the best way to tell if my program is working. I press the record button on my phone and Val says the lie. Kiki follows suit.
“You are a weirdo,” Kiki points out with a giggle. “Are you going to tell us about this thesis?”
“If I ever figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.” They hug me, despite my ripe scent, because that’s what best friends do.