Page 15 of Married As Puck
“Sure,” I mutter. “Until Randolph decides Miranda deserves another gold star and I’m left with… what, a participation ribbon?”
Julia sighs, her tone soft but firm. “Brie. I’ve said this a hundred times, and I’ll keep saying it. You deserve better. I don’t care how many deadlines you hit for them. Quit. Leave. Find a place where they don’t treat you like filler while Miranda gets the spotlight.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I thought you believed in me.”
Her laugh is warm, reassuring. “I do. That’s why I keep nagging you. Because I know you’re better than this. You’ve got talent, brains, heart—basically the whole package. And you’re wasting it trying to impress people who don’t care.”
I roll my eyes, but my throat tightens anyway. “You’re not supposed to make me cry, you know. That’s against best-friend rules.”
“Then stop giving me reasons to nag.”
I shove the laptop onto the coffee table and curl into the couch cushions. “Okay, fine. But for the record, you’re supposed to say I’ll blow Miranda out of the water tomorrow.”
“You will,” she promises, “but you should also start sending out applications? You can’t spend your fruitful years working for a boss who has no concept of honor. You’re literally slaving away for them and it’s not like you’re even a pair.”
“I know, but I’ll deal with all of that later. Let’s not talk about work.”
“Fine, I’ll drop it. What did you say the guy’s name was? Cameron…”
“Gray.”
“Okay, I’m googling him now.”
I wait a few moments and then she says, “Oh, my god.”
“What?”
“Scowler extraordinaire and super duper hottie. He looks like an adventure.”
I have to google him now.
She continues, “I am so jealous right now. Why can’t these kind of things happen to me?”
I let out a half-laugh, half-groan. My gaze flicks toward the door, just in case. “First of all, I don’t think anyone uses super duper as an actual word anymore. Secondly, adventure is going backpacking in Italy, Jules. Adventure is bungee-jumping off a bridge. Adventure is not living with a hockey caveman who looks like he eats chicken and broccoli for breakfast and scowls as a second career.”
“Don’t let him get to you,” Julia says gently, “show him you’re more than capable of making his life a living hell—that’s if he tries to frustrate you out of the house.”
“Don’t worry.” I sigh. “He barely notices I exist. Unless I’m in his way. Then he notices.”
There’s a pause, long enough for me to hear her shifting on her end of the line. I can almost see her tilting her head at me, her knowing smile sneaking in.
I push off the couch and wander into the kitchen, phone still tucked against my ear. The fridge hums as I grab a glass and fill it with water.
And then, stupidly, an uninvited, unwelcome thought overtakes me. Maybe, just maybe, Cameron’s permanent scowl isn’t the whole story. Maybe the storm cloud’s hiding more than thunder. But I shake it off, quick. No way. Not my circus, not my bear.
“Anyway,” I tell Julia, forcing brightness back into my voice. “If I disappear, you’ll know he finally snapped and buried me under the ice rink.”
She laughs again, and just like that, the heaviness in my chest eases temporarily.
“Gosh, I may never get used to you being so dramatic, it’s like you get your inspiration from somewhere.”
“Oh Jules, that’s one of the super powers I was born with. You should see what other powers I have.”
“Oh I think I’ve seen a few.” She says as she laughs some more.
“Okay, enough about me, what’s up with you?”
There’s a pause and then she laughs, “Oh nothing, just the same old, same old.”
