Page 16 of Not Safe For Work

Olivia Diamond:

No need to panic. I’ll tell you everything at lunch

Andie Oh:

Stalking your calendar now

OK 12:45 at Yank Sing – we need dumplings! Accept my invite so no one can book over it

I click over to my calendar and find an invite forStrategy Session – DO NOT BOOKwith a winking emoji in the description.

The one thing Gavin and I did discuss last night was who we would and wouldn’t be lying to. At first, he said I shouldn’t tell Andie the truth because of her penchant for gossip, but then I reminded him that she was the only person besides Mitch and HR who I’d confided in about my break-up and he came around. She’s also his sister’s boss, and there’s no way we could lie to Gabby. She’s his family.

Andie’s sort of mine too. She’s been my work-wife, as she likes to say, for more than a year now. She closed the deal the first time she invited me over for a homemade Korean dinner. Her sugary-sweet personality also hooked me hard, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t go to her place once a week for the tteokbokki alone. That, and the fact that she is one of the least judgmental people I’ve ever met in my life. She was never anything but supportive of my relationship with Ian, at least in the beginning, before pleasing him became so tedious.

She was even more supportive about the breakup.

“How many ordersof har gow do we need? Or should we just get extra soup dumplings? It’s sort of chilly today,” Andie says, rubbing her arms over her cream sweater. She’s right. It’s a very brisk fifty-four-degree day. Basically freezing for February in San Francisco.

“Let’s do both. And get egg tarts. Before they sell out.”

I’ve barely torn into the pork bun when Andie starts. “Okay, it’s time to talk about thehand holding.” She emphasizes the last two words like they’re explicit. What is this, Regency England?

There’s no great way to ease into this conversation so I just go for it. “It was just for show. We’re fake-dating.”

She squints back in response, her mouth full of shrimp. And then barely audible, says, “Like in a romcom? You know that’s not a thing people do in real life, right?”

“It’s kind of a long story, but Mitch was being an ass, and before I could stop him, Gavin told him we’re dating.” My words tumble out at lightning speed. “So now we have to keep up the ruse for a little while.”

She eyes me suspiciously while demolishing a few more dumplings. The restaurant is completely full and listening to the sounds of everyone around us has me momentarily distracted while I wait for her opinion on all this. “You sure this has nothing to do with seeing Ian on Friday? Are you trying to make him jealous?”

I almost spit out my green tea. If there is one singular thing I’m sure of, it’s that I don’t want Ian back. If a genie miraculously came out of this teapot, I’d use all three wishes on erasing him from my life completely.

“No.Definitelynot. I mean, yeah, it’ll make avoiding Ian a lot easier, but I couldn’t care less about making him jealous. You know that.”

“You’re right. I do,” she says after studying me for a moment. “This has been one of the healthiest breakups I’ve ever witnessed. You’ve never even mentioned texting him or trying to bump into him somewhere randomly. Hell, you’ve even avoided the gym and I guarantee if that man saw you in spandex he’d be begging for another chance.”

I roll my eyes at her comment, but I’m also flattered. Not about the spandex but that I’ve handled it well. After two years with a boyfriend constantly reminding me how immature I am, it’s nice to hear the opposite from someone I admire as much as Andie.

I used to think love was like a ladder. It was aspirational, something to achieve when you reached the precipice. From a birds-eye view, I always thought Ian was better than me, so being with him meant I was better too. Like if someone like him loved me, I’d go up another rung.

Now I think it’s more like a house, or at least that’s what I’d like it to be if I ever fall in love. Something we can build together over time.

The thing I’ve been working on with my therapist is pursuing what makes me happy. This might sound intuitive, but I’ve realized that I tend to focus on what others want from me instead of what I want for myself. That I give way too much power to those around me, to their opinions of me.

Now that I’ve put in the work, it’s so clear that Ian never made me happy. I don’t think I ever even loved him. I was just so thrilled when he said it, that I immediately reciprocated. I never actually asked myself what I felt for him.

From the very beginning, he made me feel less than, and instead of building a relationship together, I spent two years constantly trying to mold myself to fit his expectations.

“This really isn’t about Ian, I swear. Just an added bonus.”

“So what did the mighty Mitch do now?” she asks.

“Well, I told you about that prospect, Tristan. How he asked me out?” She nods in response. “Mitch saw the email. I guess Tristan had replied all and I didn’t notice. And Mitch told me to go out with him.”

“Told you? Like ordered you?”

“Pretty much. And when I said that wasn’t going to happen, he got really worked up about it and made it clear my promotion was on the line with this deal. It just sort of spiraled.”

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