5. Chloe

CHAPTER 5

Chloe

I’m having an out-of-body experience. When I made the decision to host Lauren’s bachelorette party in JoAnna’s living room, never in a million years did I imagine this scenario. If I thought I was stressed out before, no amount of vodka is going to fix this. Barrett’s cold, assessing eyes skim the length of me. His gaze is a chilly fifty-five degrees, and I visibly shiver. I’m stunned speechless, unable to say or do anything but watch this nightmare unfold.

One of Lauren’s co-workers, Molly, a tall blonde in a red strapless dress, moves toward Barrett. “Oh, Chloe isn’t the bride.” She grabs Lauren by the hand and pulls her out of the group of women. “Lauren is.”

I’m dead. Dead and fired. There is likely nothing Barrett would like more than to see me fired. I don’t know why, but it seems like something that would give him satisfaction. That and making babies cry.

My mind flashes to the image of the plethora of editorial assistant candidates that JoAnna had to choose from two years ago. There may be even more of them now. Just last week the news reported a population increase due to young professionals moving to the city. I’ll be replaced instantly. JoAnna is Beyonce and I’m her cheating boyfriend, she can have another me by tomorrow. I’m not irreplaceable.

Worse than losing my job with St. Clair Press, with one word, JoAnna could banish me from the entire publishing industry in New York if she wanted to. That’s the power that she has. I’ve rarely seen it wielded for anything other than the benefit of her clients, but I wouldn’t want to find out.

There would be no associate editor job in my future. No job at all. I’d have to move home and work at The Book Nook—the local bookstore I worked at for five years before I left for college—for the rest of my life.

Or I might be able to find some corner of the world where JoAnna St. Clair’s influence in the publishing industry can’t reach. Like Antarctica.

“It’s Lauren. Lauren has been a very bad girl,” Molly says, winking at Barrett.

Lauren, in her white sparkly romper and bride-to-be sash, bounces in her heels.

While I’m watching my life and career in New York City flash before my eyes, Lauren laughs and covers her mouth with both hands. “Oh my God, this is so fun!” She turns to find me across the room. “Chloe, I can’t believe you got a stripper. And he’s so hot!”

After three drinks, her tiara is crooked and her cheeks are rosy. She’s also oblivious to the stress Barrett’s arrival has caused me.