Flirting with Forever: A Hot Romantic Comedy(80)

“Nora says she didn’t write it. You edited her piece. Do you know anything about this?”

Her eyes darted between me and April and she kept fidgeting with her hands. “I’m not sure.”

“Tala, what I wrote and what April published are two different things. We both know I didn’t write that article. Where did it come from?”

She looked away and her shoulders slumped. “I wrote it.”

“What?”

“The article you wrote was really sweet but no one was going to click on it. It was too sweet.”

“So you rewrote it?”

“I swear, I won’t do it again. I just knew that if your article tanked, all our clicks will go down. And I really need the traffic bonus this month. My credit cards are already maxed out and Freddie and Frannie caught colds and do you know how expensive it is to take animals to the vet? Plus they needed new harnesses so I can take them for walks with my boyfriend and they ran out of their special treats they love. It all adds up.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “You rewrote my article without telling anyone so you could pay for treats for your ferrets?”

“And the vet bill. And there was the big Nordstrom sale a couple of weeks ago.”

“You ruined my life for a clothing sale?”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, I didn’t ruin your life. My article is going nuts already. I probably saved your career.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “That article is awful. My boyfriend is furious and I don’t blame him. You had no right to pass it off as mine.” I turned to April. “And regardless of where it came from, you approved it. I realize I’ve written plenty on the subject of sexual flings but I’d never tell people to suck up to a single dad’s kids in order to manipulate him into bed.”

At least April had the decency to look uncomfortable. “I admit, there may have been a lapse in judgment.”

I shook my head slowly. “You knew it would be controversial, didn’t you? You knew this would stir people up. That’s why you ran it—why you didn’t question it. You were willing to sacrifice my reputation for clicks.”

She waved that off. “Your reputation will be fine. No publicity is bad publicity.”

“It is when it hurts people I care about.” When I’d first walked in, anger had fueled my resolution to quit—anger that might have later cooled.

I wasn’t angry anymore. I was hurt and betrayed. And I knew what I had to do. When I spoke again, my voice was calm. “I really am quitting. As of right now. And I want that article taken down.”

April hesitated, her lips pressing together. “Fine. We’ll pull the article.”

I looked at Tala. “We women have enough to deal with in this world without making things harder on each other. Do better.”

Then I turned around and walked out.

I’d have to deal with the details of leaving Glamour Gal later. Clean out my office, find out if I could get the rights to my column back. Professionally, I had no idea where this left me or what I was going to do.

Personally, I needed to put out this fire before it spread.

I checked my phone. Dex hadn’t replied. I brought up his number and hit send. It went straight to voicemail. Either he’d turned off his phone or he’d immediately rejected my call. I tried again. Same result.

This time I left a message. “Dex, I didn’t write that article. Someone else wrote it and published it under my name. Please call me back.”

The traffic on the way home was torture. I sat on the freeway going five miles an hour, ready to scream. Suddenly road rage made a lot more sense. Who knew how many raging drivers were trying to get home to their significant other to clear up a terrible misunderstanding.

I tried his cell again. Voice mail. I tried Riley’s. Hers seemed to be off too.

By the time I got home, I was jittery with pent up frustration. Dex’s house was dark, his car gone. I went over anyway, just in case, and knocked. No answer.

I didn’t want to keep calling him if he was just going to reject my calls. I didn’t know where he was or when he was coming home. I was hurt and angry and overwhelmed. So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I called my friends.





34





NORA





After opening a bottle of wine, I promptly put the cork back in. I didn’t want wine. I didn’t know what I wanted. A martini? A gin and tonic? A good, old-fashioned shot of tequila?

Several, perhaps?

I glanced up at the kitchen ceiling. The holes Dex had drilled to drain the bathtub water were still there. And for some reason, that made me irrationally angry.

Tequila it was.

I got out a bottle and a shot glass and poured. The liquor burned as it slid down my throat. I thought about taking another but hesitated before pouring. Hangovers weren’t exactly the mild inconvenience they’d once been. I’d pace myself.

The sound of a car outside caught my attention but it was just one of my neighbors—not my girlfriends, nor was it Dex.

That also made me irrationally angry.

Damn it, Dex.

He really thought I’d written that article. Instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt, or at least asking me about it and giving me a chance to respond, he’d thrown accusations in my face and walked out.