Page 12 of Return Billionaire to Sender

“Quit. Give them the big FU and blow my entire paycheck on shoes. Or maybe a new outfit. No—a diamond fucking tiara, and I’d wear it to the Plaza Hotel and drink an entire bottle of their best champagne all by myself and then pick up a hot guy.”

“I meant a job. Think of what you’d do for work. Tomorrow. If you could wake up and have any career.”

“I don’t know.”

“Think big,” I say. “Pie in the sky.”

“Wellllll…Thereisone thing I could do,” she says.

“What?”

“My friend Jaycee is going to Estonia to teach English. She’s leaving this week. She invited me, like they need teachers. I guess that’s kind of my Craigslist ad, because she’s invited me before, and I always turn her down, but I like working with kids, and I think it would be really fun. It’s this girls school. I even looked it up on Google maps. It’s this sweet little school. And I doenjoy teaching…”

“Hold the phone,” I say. “You’re telling me that you have an actual opportunity to do this cool thing instead of coaching some guy who’s going to be a jerk to you, and you’rechoosing the jerk?”

“Well, I have a lease. Bills to pay.”

“Hold out your hands,” I say.

She regards me warily. “Why?”

“Hold out your hands. Show me your hands.”

She holds them out.

“That’s funny,” I say. “I don’t see any handcuffs there, do you? I don’t see a leash around your neck. Looks to me like you’re a free operator with your own freaking life.”

She tucks her hands back in her lap, but I have her attention.

“Life is short,” I say. “I know that’s a cliché, but it’s a cliché for a reason.”

She turns and stares into the middle distance, blinking.

“I’m serious, Stella.” I feel myself getting riled up. Sometimes I get overly passionate, but things with Stella seem so clear cut. “When this elevator starts up, you could choose to not get off at the sixth floor. You could hit that lobby button and get out down at the lobby instead. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Yesssss,” she says.

“Well?”

She looks longingly at thebutton marked L. “I couldn’t.”

“Stella, you have an actual job offer. You have an apartment? Fine. Go put your stuff in storage. Get a subletter, or just eat the deposit. Get a standby flight with your friend. Pay the bills from Estonia. I mean, there’s actually a job for you doing this cool thing? And instead you’re gonna spend these next how many beautiful days of your life with some jerk jerking you around? And you’re not even getting health insurance?”

She’s watching me, eyes wide. “And he reallywilljerk me around.”

I shake my head. “You deserve better.”

She blinks. “Icouldget a subletter. My asshole ex needs a place.”

“There you go,” I say.

She sniffs. “The overseas gig pay would be shit, but you get free room and board.” She looks at me. “I would feel happy.”

“Well?” I say.

“Shit,” she laughs. “I can’t.”

“You’d rather go up there and coach the asshole?”

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