“Don’t just stare at me! Tell me what to do!”
“I don’t think I can tell you what to do on this one.” She leans forward and rests her sweater-covered elbows on the granite. “I’m pretty sure this is a textbook definition of a lose-lose situation. The only question is which one are you okay losing? Q or your job?”
Is she crazy?
“Are you crazy? You think I should choose a guy I’ve literally only kissed over a job that I’ve worked my ass off for?”
I can’t even wrap my mind around it. My dad would be so disappointed in me if I did that. He raised me to be strong and independent, not to give up everything for a guy who there’s probably not even a future with.
“No, what I said was you need to choose what’s important to you, because I don’t see any way you can come out of this with your relationship and your job. What I didn’t say is that you should choose Q over your job.” Vonnie purses her lips the way she does before she yells at her kids, and I know I’m in for it. “Listen, we only met a couple of months ago, I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you. But, from what I do know, this isn’t about a job. If it was, I have a feeling you would’ve already started looking for a new one. First Mahler threatens your job and now he has very knowingly put you in a terrible position with Q.”
“You were the first person I told about me and Quinton, Mahler has no idea what’s going on.” And I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Just the thought of having to go to human resources and tell them makes me cringe.
“It doesn’t matter that you two are doing whatever you’re doing behind closed doors. Mahler gave you the job to get close to Q, which you have done. And even if he doesn’t know the full extent of your relationship, just seeing the way Q has started to approach his protest in relation to his foundation is all the proof Mahler needs to know you’ve succeeded in gaining his trust. Mahler is doing this to fuck with him.”
“Hey! I—” I try to defend myself, but Vonnie cuts me off before I can begin to state my case.
“I know you’re good at your job. Damn good, according to the pictures I’ve seen and everything Brynn told me about the event I wasn’t invited to.” She cuts me with a fierce side-eye and I zip my lips closed. “What I’m saying is that Mahler could’ve found another person to put together this event, one who would not be put in a terrible position. Him making you do this—yes, making you—says a lot about him,” she says when I open my mouth. “He is the owner of the organization you work for. He may have asked, but you know damn well you couldn’t have said no.”
“I guess you’re right.” I hang my head, hating just how right she is. But, if I ever decide to have kids, I’m so coming to her for lecture lessons.
“Of course I am.” She raises an eyebrow like she can’t believe I had the audacity to ever doubt her. “Now, the question is, what are you going to pick? It’s not just your relationship with Q, it’s your relationships period. Are you going to put a job that is slowly sucking away your soul over the relationships in your life? It’s up to you, but you need to make this decision soon. The longer it goes on, the more damage it will cause.”
It sounds like such an easy decision when she puts it like that, but she’s missing one giant piece to this puzzle. My dad. This job feels like my last tangible link to my dad. Every time I walk through the doors of the Mustangs building, I feel like he’s right next to me, taking it all in with me. And if I quit, I lose that. And I’m not sure I’m ready to throw it away.
Fuck.
Being an adult sucks.
Thirty-one
After talking with Vonnie, I decided that she was right . . . but also wrong.
Yes, I do need to make a decision, but what’s the rush? It’s nearing the end of November, but the event isn’t until January. That gives me at least another month to weigh things out and choose what’s actually right for me and not just base it on emotions.
And since Quinton asked me out on a date—like a real one, not at his house—I’ll be even more well-informed before I pick.
“No,” Liv says. “I refuse to let you wear leggings on your first date with Quinton fucking Howard.”
Okay. So it’d be a safe assumption to say that I haven’t been out with a guy in a long, long . . . long time. It wasn’t a conscious decision I made or anything, but life got in the way. Plus, dating sucks these days. I was on the apps for a month before I deleted them all. I’d rather be a spinster than have to deal with that many dick pics. But that doesn’t mean I need Liv to babysit me while I’m getting dressed.
This is what I get for opening my big mouth. I should’ve kept this a secret.
“He said to dress comfortable, and nothing is more comfortable than leggings.” I know I’m not a style guru like Liv, but I think I look cute. It’s November in Colorado. Boots, sweaters, and leggings are my go-to.
“Fine,” she grumbles before going into my closet. “But at least wear these boots and not your UGGs. There’s comfort and then there’s pajamas. Leggings with UGGs is pajamas.”
“I will agree to the boots, but not to your point. UGGs are the best and you’re just a snob.” I take the knee-high boots from her hands and set
