Shae gave a sniff, feeling the ridiculous tears starting to surface. She was not going to fall apart. Not again. “How’d Risa’s presentation go?” she asked as she came to sit beside Mel, who’d barely made a dent in the tequila shot.
“Not so well,” Mel said. “Miranda was there, and you know the effect she has on people.”
“I know the effect she’s had on me,” Shae said darkly. Hearing that Risa had crashed and burned wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been. “And do you know what really fries me? I admired her. I thought that she was a tough, capable businesswoman.” She’d actually thought they were two of a kind, confident go-getters who said what they thought, went after what they wanted.
“I think she still is, Shae.”
Shae hated hearing that. Hated thinking that she’d screwed herself here. Much better to feel the victim...except that Shae never embraced that sort of role. She changed things that needed to be changed until she was happy with them.
How was she going to change this?
“So you’re saying I lost my own job,” she finally said.
“It was like wedding planning possessed you.”
“Planning a wedding is time-consuming and stressful,” Shae said, once again eyeing the tequila bottle.
“I understand, but it was...” Mel made an odd face. “You were...” She shifted her position on the sofa, turning toward Shae with a frown knitting her forehead. “It was like everything had to be beyond perfect—bigger and better than any wedding anyone had ever seen.”
“There’s a problem there?”
“There is if you let the need to be the best rule your life.”
“I like things to be...nice.”
“Over-the-top nice.” Mel exhaled and settled back against the cushions. “I’m just trying to point out what got you into this trouble. And until the wedding plans began, you poured that energy into the job, which was why Miranda loved you. And Gerald and Risa hated you.”
“Gee. Thanks so much.”
“You know it’s true,” Mel said. “And you know it doesn’t bother you that they resent you.”
“Touché.”
“Do you have any leads for jobs?”
“I’ve only been fired for a matter of hours.”
“Are you telling me you don’t already have a plan?”
“I have a list of firms to cold-call,” Shae admitted before sipping the water again. “I’ve posted my résumé on the job-search sites.” Her mouth tilted down at the corners. “I want my old job back. I liked it. And Mel, I was ten months away from being vested in retirement. Ten months!”
Mel reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “If you need a reference, I can give you one.”
“Meaning Wallace won’t?”
“I don’t know. Depends on Miranda.”
“Yeah.” Shae pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment. She’d get past this. Mel finally finished off the shot and set the glass on the table.
“I have a study session. Are you going to be all right here? Because I can cancel and stay.”
“Don’t do that,” Shae said. She would have liked the company, but she was beginning to think some alone time wouldn’t be bad, either. She’d had enough hard truths for one night.
Mel picked up her purse, then gestured to the tequila bottle. “Maybe you should do yourself a favor after I leave...pour the rest of that bottle down the sink.”
Shae flashed her friend a frown. Damned if she was pouring good tequila down the sink. Shae picked up the bottle, putting the stopper back in and pressing it down hard before handing it to Mel. “If it makes you feel better, take custody. I really need to be alone.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I want you to stay and tell me about how I had my head up my ass for months.”
Mel smiled. “Call if you need me?”
Shae closed her eyes. Mel was the best friend she’d ever had. And the most sensible. Maybe this was the time to tell her that her head had been where the sun didn’t shine, while she was still reeling from shock. That way it didn’t ruin yet another day. “I’ll call,” she said. “Will you be available to answer? I know how you are when you study.”
“I’ll leave the phone on.” She gave Shae a quick hug. “Call.”
“I will.”
Once Mel’s footsteps faded into the distance, the apartment was too quiet. So quiet that the lack of sound seemed to press in on her. Where were the noisy neighbors when she needed them?
The phone rang then, the vibration making it dance on the glass coffee table. Shae glanced at the number. Vivian calling for the second time since hearing Shae’s most recent bad news. Shae wanted to ignore the call, but if she did, her stepmother would be there knocking on the door, probably with her father in tow.
The phone rang again. One more ring and it would go to voice mail....
Taking a deep breath and suddenly regretting the lack of readily available tequila, Shae picked up the phone, forced a smile and said hello. Her father’s voice, heavy with concern, answered her.
“Shae, honey. We’re in Missoula and Vivian wants to stop by, if it’s not too late.”
In Missoula? At this hour?
“Dad, I’d love to see you,” Shae said. There was no way she could turn them away after they’d obviously driven in from their home a good hour away.
“We’re right outside. I thought it might be too late, but we passed Mel as we turned into the cul-de-sac.”
“Come on in,” Shae said, picking up the shot glass and carrying to the dishwasher, where she popped it in out of sight. “See you in a few.”
She hung up, raced into the bathroom and quickly gargled some mouthwash. If Vivian thought she was drowning her sorrows, no telling what steps she’d take. Seconds later the doorbell rang.
Vivian hovered for a moment, then said, “I can’t help it,” and threw her arms around Shae. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
Shae tried to smile as she gently eased out of Vivian’s embrace and then hugged her father.
“I called around,” her father said. “Checked with some buddies to see if they’ve heard of any openings. No luck yet, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.”
“The problem is the real-estate market,” Vivian lamented, taking Shae’s hand and leading her to the sofa.
“I know,” Shae replied gamely.
“Of course, we’ll help you with the bills until you get back on your feet,” her father said. Shae started to say thank you, but he held up a hand. “No arguments.”
“I appreciate that,” Shae said. The bills were her big concern at the moment. She’d charged an entire trousseau and had yet to see the final damages. And then there were the living expenses, which were going to catch up with her soon, since she’d been living paycheck to paycheck, spending every dime she had, as well as several dimes she didn’t have, on the wedding. “I’ll pay you back, of course.”