Page 128 of Wicked

“You need to stand up, girl, and demand it. And while you’re at it, grow a backbone.” I pace, and she unleashes more. “You could also, carefully, imply you may expose their creepy advertising deal with competing destinations.”

That ignites something inside me, and I stop on the spot. I know she is onto something, but I need to be careful.

“And you should threaten a lawsuit,” Parker says, hands on her hips.

I decide to tell her there is more. That yes, I wrote the draft they published, but there were a few added sentences in the article. Extra toxic, extra damning for Italy, and they were not my work.

“You have to be kidding me!” Parker says, furious, before unleashing another rant.

After listening, I pace and snap. Screw it! She’s right.Enough!

I walk into our living room, and I hit my old boss’s number and pace. I’m still in my PJ’s, and it’s hardly corporate battle gear. Too bad.

“What?”

My old boss answered faster than I imagined.

On the spot, I think fast, and I talk just as quick.

“My legal advisor advised I start a lawsuit. You set me up, and you just demolished my reputation in the industry. The suspect advertising revenue you bring in, if you burn the opposition, that’s likely illegal. That article I sent you was a draft, and you could have pulled my name and made a name up. No harm done. However, you used my name, and you tricked the writing up. It’s not all my work. You ruined my reputation!”

I pause for effect, to catch my breath, and let my brain plan ahead.

“Now, pull my name from the first article. Publish the second positive article word for word and publish an apology!”

“Or?” my old boss says, slow and evil-like.

“Do not push me,” slips from my angry lips.“You just destroyed my writing career in travel, and I have nothing to lose. You, however, have everything on the fucking line!”

There is silence.

“And…?” she asks, slightly on edge.

My eyes squint, and I’m on a roll. “You have a week.”

“It will cost you any money owed to you. The action will erase your owed salary.”

“Just do it,” I say and hit end. I toss the phone down on the couch as if it’s on fire.

I fight to breathe and I pace. I cannot believe I just stood up to the bully.

In saying that, I just kissed several thousand dollars goodbye. At least my friends in Italy will realize I’m not a complete snake. And the beautiful family I’d met will know I’m a good person, with a heart and soul.

I then think of Dante, the man who broke my heart. I quickly think of Tito, and the dear dog who has never hurt me. He is one of the few, and I owe him nothing but love.

Oh, God! How will I get him and Tito out of my brain?

Over the next few days,I tidy my room, live in my PJs, and I do little else. Parker is, however, proud of me, and we discuss my dilemma.

I have no idea if and when my ex-boss will act. I had bluffed, and now I have no money. I also have no plan.

As I think about leaving expensive NYC and heading to a small town to take any job, I think about paying off my debts.

I have a small student loan on top of the credit card, and then there is the rental car bill. I have trouble thinking, and it’s as if the walls just keep getting smaller and smaller.

Just as I’m having trouble breathing again, my cell phone chimes. It pulls me from my anxious state, and I check the screen. It’s likely the bank, but I can’t keep hiding. It’s time to face the music. Sitting, I hold my old phone up.

It’s just an email from a pal from college. She’s in publishing, and she was the last person I sent my novel to. When I was desperate in Rome’s airport…

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