Page 124 of The Thing About My Prince
“Thank you for succinctly summing up every aspect of my current employment status. Or, rather,unemployment status.”
A sip of the hot, creamy coffee helps to lift the fog of the sugar and booze hangovers, and the reality of my jobless situation starts to sink in.
Becca has long been the only person I’d want to talk to at a time like this. But right now, all I want is Oliver. Not because being around him would make me feel better, though I’m sure it would, but because I want to comfort him too. He was banking on that book in so many ways. He’ll be devastated.
Maybe that’s why he hasn’t been in touch since I left. I’d intended to text him after I landed to say I’d arrived safely, but the airport was a shitshow, and I fell asleep in the cab from the airport, then was absorbed in the whisky and ice-cream fueled debrief with Becca for hours until I stumbled to bed and passed out.
But I would have thought Oliver would have at least sent a quick message to tell me the book’s off, and asking me to call him when I’m up so he can tell me the full story and rant about it.
I grab my phone again.
ME
Are you ok? I just heard about the book being canceled.
He’s probably too busy to reply immediately, so I put my mug and phone down on the table and roll onto my side, pulling the blanket over my head.
“Oh, no.” Becca tugs at it, but I tighten my grip. “No wallowing. No hiding. Fuck all those people.”
I peep over the edge, knowing my hair will now look like I stuck my fingers in an electrical socket.
“Seriously, Becca. I’ve lost the new job I’ve always wanted to a talentless rich kid, and now I don’t even get to use my powers for good by finishing Oliver’s book and helping him make his side of the story public. I think I’m allowed at least one day of hiding and wallowing.”
My phone beeps. That was fast. The sight of his name instantly relieves the pressure in my chest, brings a smile to my lips and a coiling flutter to my belly. At least he’ll be back in New York tomorrow. Being around him, kissing him, lying in bed with him, will make everything feel a lot less bad.
OLIVER
Yeah, it’s shit. And it means we don’t have to work together anymore. I’m going to need some time to figure out what to do next. About everything.
“Aha!” Becca snatches the blanket from my momentarily loosened grip and pulls it back. “I knew you really fucking liked him.” She pokes at my leg with both index fingers.
But I barely notice it.
It’s like a giant sinkhole has opened up beneath me and my entire universe has crashed through it.
Up until a couple of weeks ago, I would have thought that losing my job and the new one I had lined up would have been the end of my world.
But I would have been wrong.
The end of my world is losing Oliver.
And this is the one I didn’t predict.
The biggest hammer to fall was the hardest one to see coming.
Becca’s still pummeling my leg. “You like him. You like him. You liiiike him!”
“Doesn’t matter. I think he just sent me an I-need-some-space text.”
“What?” She stops poking me and bolts up straight. “I thought he was smart. No smart man would dump you.”
She grabs my hand and turns my phone to face her.
There’s silence while her eyes scan the message.
Then scan it again.
“What the fuck?” Her shoulders slump and all the fun drains from her face. “It’s totally an I-need-some-space text. Asshole. His whole life is fucking space. No one has more space in their life than a royal person.”
