Deep down she knew her position with Dru hadn’t been sustainable. There were people who stayed on as lifelong assistants, but they worked for people who were kind and paid them enough to do crazy stuff like get married and have children of their own. Dru didn’t want Amanda to have a future. Dru didn’t even want Amanda to have friends, or the slightest shred of happiness. Still she never expected their end to go down the way it had. She never expected to quit in such a spectacularly stupid fashion. No, she’d been right to quit. The things Dru had said, the things Dru wanted from Sam and his family, there was no way Amanda could sit by and encourage that to happen. She sure as hell wasn’t going to hand her own boyfriend off to another woman like a used baseball glove.
The screwed-up things Dru had said to her about how ridiculous she was to think that Sam would really be with her, out in the open, loving—or at least liking—her for the world to see, had hurt. It hurt a lot. She knew then that while Dru was in part a result of shitty parenting, Dru was an adult now and Dru made a lot of adult decisions to treat others like shit. Sticking by her signaled that Amanda was willing to overlook her behavior. No, it was an affirmation that she supported her behavior. The way Dru spoke to her wasn’t shocking. It was textbook Dru Anastasia.
Over time she’d actually gotten worse. She’d been a brat when Amanda started working for her. She’d escalated to full on dickhead and Amanda couldn’t stick around and cheer her on. She tried to picture what it would be like to show up to work day after day with Dru knowing that she and Sam were an item. Dru would do her best to continue to torture her about the impossibility of them as a couple. The impossibility of Sam seeing her as not only an equal, but an object of his affection and desire.
She was right to quit, but maybe she should have given her two weeks’ notice. Maybe a month so she could at least start looking for another job. And at least part of Dru’s parting prophecy was true. She was out of work. And worse, she couldn’t get in touch with Sam. A fight with her former employer wasn’t reason enough to put in a 9-1-1 call to Bali, but still. She wanted to tell him what had happened. She wanted to let him know that Dru was now one of the handful of people who knew about them.
Dru wasn’t exactly a gossip. She was more of a shit talker who only talked shit when it was to her own personal benefit. Would the news that her former personal assistant was dating Sam Pleasant somehow be to Dru’s advantage? Amanda wasn’t sure. She could anticipate Dru’s needs and her moods, but the inner workings of her brain were still very confusing and unsettling to her. Also, fuck Dru.
Amanda rolled over again and buried her face in her pillow. She’d forgotten to wrap her braids and her scalp was starting to hurt from the tight bun fighting to stay twirled up on the top of her head. She had to get out of bed. Her mom was right. Things would be okay. And if things weren’t okay, then she would move home. She was lucky to have parents who loved her so much, parents who would support whatever decision she made next. Hopefully, her next move wouldn’t be so impulsive.
The sound of her phone ringing had Amanda peeling her face off her pillow. It was her mom’s ringtone.
“Hey, Mom,” she answered. Her voice sounded like she’d swallowed sandpaper.
“Just taking a quick break. I wanted to check on my baby girl.”
“I’m okay. Thank you. I’m still in bed.”
“That’s okay. You get your rest. You’ve been working hard.”
“Well, I have all the free time in the world now,” she said with a mirthless laugh.
“I talked to your dad. You can come home if you need to.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Amanda replied, her voice cracking. She loved them so much, but she didn’t want to go home. Her whole life felt so unfinished. Going home meant giving up. Giving up on Sam and giving up on her dreams. She swallowed and stopped herself from another crying jag. She didn’t have enough water in her body to support one anyway. “I’m going to take a hot shower and then try and come up with a plan.”
“You know you can do this. You’re a McQueen. You can do anything.”
In theory, her mom was right, but she wasn’t back to that level of hopeful determination quite yet. She heard a beep in her ear and when she glanced at her phone, she saw Helene’s name lighting up her screen.
“You have to go?” her mom asked.
“It’s my friend. I think she’s back from her honeymoon.”
“Go talk to her.”
“’Kay. I’ll call you later.” Amanda switched over just before it went to voicemail. “He—”
“Oh my God. Sorry, I know you’re at work. But have you been online yet?”
“Well, no. I’m not at work. I quit.”
“What?! What do you mean you quit?”
“What’s going on online?”
“Oh fuck,” Helene said. The sound of her voice had Amanda’s blood pressure ratcheting up. She let out a shuddered breath as a text message alert pinged in her ear. She glanced at the screen and saw a text from a high school friend named Sarah. Before she could bring it back up to her ear, three
