Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I wanted to laugh, though I wasn’t the least bit amused. When I worked in the office, I’d sat across from my boss’s desk as she complained about women “letting themselves go” after they’d had children. I’d even agreed with her at times, and now, fate was showing me what it felt like to be on the receiving end of her vapid bullshit.
“Liz, you wore a baseball cap to our Zoom meeting a couple Friday mornings ago. Why does it matter if I have my hair done when it’s just you and me?”
“I was going to a Mets game that afternoon, and I still had on makeup.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Did you get the pitch list I emailed you? I think there are several strong contenders for cover stories.”
Liz lowered her brows. “I’m not ready to start the meeting yet. We also need to discuss the fact that you were late.”
I wanted to slam my laptop screen down and take an extended break from Liz, but I’d worked hard over the past seven years at Willow, earning promotions in record time. I was the youngest associate editor the magazine had ever had and I wasn’t going to let Liz’s lack of interpersonal skills ruin everything for me.
“I was four minutes late, yes,” I said. “And I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t get snarky with me. I’ve bent over backward to help you since your friend died, but this isn’t working, Hadley. You asked me if you could work remotely while you figured things out to move your friend’s kids to New York. It’s been three months. You’re barely managing your workload. You’re one of our best, and I don’t want to let you go, but something has to give here. So when can I expect you back in the office?”
I fell against the back of Ben’s cushy desk chair, so shocked I couldn’t even breathe. “Let me go? Are you firing me?”
“I don’t want it to come to that. But I do need you back in the office full time.”
Full time. I wanted to laugh but this really wasn’t funny. Before Lauren died, I was in the office by seven every morning, and I never left before six. Many nights I just ate dinner at my desk and stayed until I needed to go home, take a shower and get some sleep. Then I did it all again the next day. My weekends were always mine, but I worked a minimum of sixty hours a week Monday through Friday. How could I do that now? I’d never see Annalise and Benny.
There was also the issue of moving to New York. I didn’t want to take the kids away from Wes. That had been my original plan, but the three months we’d been together had shown me how wrong I was. The kids adored Wes, and he loved them more than anything.
I needed Wes to get traded to New York. That was the only way I could keep my job and we could raise the kids together. We weren’t ever going to be an official, mad-about-each-other couple or anything, but what we had going now was enough for me.
Probably. But that was the least of my worries right now.
“I have a court hearing this afternoon about the kids,” I told Liz. “I’ll know more about my situation tomorrow. Can we talk about this then?”
“Sure.” Her expression softened. “I want this to work out, Hadley. You’re a real asset, but I just need a lot more of you than I’m getting right now.”
I’d seen Liz use this approach with other women at Willow. She was both the good cop and the bad cop, depending on her mood and what suited her. I’d watched her drive women out of their jobs because they needed time to process the death of a parent or they were struggling with depression after a divorce.
If they can’t keep up, no one can blame her for getting rid of them, I’d thought at the time.
But now it was me. I wanted to go back and apologize to all the women I hadn’t stood up for and been more supportive of, but I couldn’t do that right now, though. I was drowning in my own situation.
Wes and I were in danger of losing custody of the kids today. It was all I’d been able to think about since our meeting with the attorney. And while I’d been overwhelmed and completely out of my element when I’d started taking care of them, everything was different now.
I loved them. Not like before, as an auntie or a godmother who sent great gifts and played with them while visiting, but in a deeper, more authentic way I hadn’t known possible. I knew which of Benny’s cries meant whether he was tired, hungry or having teething pain. I knew Annalise’s favorite bedtime stories by heart. I’d always miss Lauren, but her children had filled the hole her loss left in my heart.