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“Gotta find a place to crash first. Got a fat ‘no’ from Pops about staying
here.”
“He’ll bend, just give it time.” Byron wasn’t even out of breath.
Meanwhile, I had a crushing weight on my chest.
Byron pulling me down was bad enough, but now he was dragging in
Colton of all people.
Fuck this.
I shut the machine.
“Had enough?” Byron asked.
“This gym’s too crowded.”
“See you at breakfast,” Colton called back.
Ella had put a hoodie over her pajamas and was pacing the suite’s patio
with her phone to her ear. Her hair was pulled up in a bun that sat high on
her head, exposing the curve of her ears and the length of her neck.
She waved when she saw me, pointed at the phone, and mouthed,
“Bianca.”
“You can be mad I took it but you can’t just fire me.” She listened,
looking in the middle distance with the mountains behind her.
I threw myself into a chair and turned my emotions down to a low,
rolling boil.
“I know ‘you’re happy but,’” she said, sitting across from me to rest her
elbow on the table. She rubbed her temple as if her stepmother was giving
her a headache.
“Honey!” I said so Bianca could hear. “I’m home.”
Ella smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. “I have to go,” she said. “Fine.”
Pause. “Yes, I believe you.” Pause. “Okay. Bye.” She tapped off and tossed
the phone on the table. “Fuck.”
“What happened?”
“She fired me. Fuck. I shouldn’t have taken that dress. ‘Darling,’” she
said, imitating her stepmother’s affect. “‘You know I love you dearly, but
even if I overlook the mistake over the Rachel tee, I simply cannot send the
message that stealing one of Basile’s dresses is acceptable.’”
“Why do you care about a job? How much do you make? I’ll—”