Page 13 of Ansel
I scoffed. “Knobbeing the operative word?”
Charlie nodded somberly. “Look, Vanessa baited you, fed you just enough bullshit about how it wouldn’t look right if you kept Neha on, how she was too involved in your work, and how she was half in love with you.”
“And I bought her bullshit hook, line, and sinker.” I finished my drink. “You know, since Neha left, I feel lonely…I’ve never felt lonely in my whole life. I feel like I’m scrambling, drowning in a mess I created.”
“Sucks doesn’t it to hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it?”
“Mightily,” I admitted.
I’d let myself be manipulated. I’d let my fucking ego keep me from questioning myself, so, instead of protecting the person who had been in my corner from day one, I’d thrown her away like she was nothing.
But Neha wasn’tnothing. She waseverything. And now she was gone.
“I don’t even know how to fix this,” I told Charlie, feeling desperate. “I don’t know where to start.”
“I think a good place would be for you to ask yourself, what you want?”
I pondered that for a long moment. “I want Neha back.”
“As an assistant?” he inquired.
I was going to answer automatically, “Yes,”but then stopped myself. My brain may have been saying I needed Neha in the assistant’s chair so I could continue to be good at my job, but my heart was saying something entirely different.
“No, not as an assistant.”
Charlie grinned. “Then maybe all this worked out for the best as HR at Sterling takes the non-fraternization clause in the employee handbook damn seriously.”
“I spoke harshly about her to Vanessa. I was cruel. I doubt Neha will give me the time of day.”
“You’ll never know until you try.”
“Try what?” I asked exasperated.
“You may want to invest in knee pads,” he suggested.
“Huh?”
“You’re going to have to grovel a lot if you want your girl back,” he explained.
7
TOO LITTLE, TOO LATTE
NEHA
Ihad worked in cafés and restaurants, just like everyone else who needed to pay the bills while getting through school. But once I earned my undergraduate degree in business, I never thought I’d go back to it. I had imagined a career with Ansel. Growing with him, learning, building something together.
So stupid. So naïve.
He was just like every other corporate suit—taking what he needed, getting what he wanted, and the moment you were no longer useful, he kicked you to the curb.
I had gone over what he said to Vanessa over and over again—like a bad movie on replay in my head.
The thing I was most embarrassed about was that he knew about my crush and thought I wasn’t good enough for him, that I was aiming too high. I wasn’taiming, period. I hadn’t overtly indicated how I felt to him. I’d been careful, professional, and what did that get me? Absolutely nothing. I worked so diligently for him—and also me—but mostly him, and he’d discarded me. All I was worth was three weeks’ severance pay. A week for every year. It was humiliating!
And even after six weeks of quitting my job and four weeks of being a barista at Sun & Chai, Penny’s café, the burn of that shame hadn’t lessened.
The good news was that being a barista was fun and not boring at all as I’d worried. The job was low-pressure, and once it was done, itwas done. You didn’t take your work home when you made and served coffee for a living.
