Page 5 of The Art of Almost Losing It
There’s chatter that Svensson Investment is going to reverse their dogs-in-office policy. Svensson Investment told us we could bring dogs to work—this was in lieu of a raise last year.
And I still don’t have a boyfriend.
I chew on my piping-hot slice of pepperoni pizza as I trudge through the sleet, carrying all my work bags and the doubled-up paper plates with my other two slices, trying to convince a wailing Lulu to “Just walk for a little bit—please, I cannot carry you right now.”
I shouldn’t have lied at the Christmas party. What was I thinking? Someone drugged that punch, because that was so unlike me.
I know my lot in life.
My entire life, since I was aware enough to recognize male attention, it was never directed at me.
Guys want girlfriends like Colette and the Girl Squad—polished, fun, flirty, cool. They go to sports games and play beer pong but still look like models.
That was made painfully obvious in high school then college; when a group of guys came up to flirt with the Girl Squad, they’d either ignore me or, if I was unlucky, make a disgusted face at me.
Piper always liked to tell me that the Girl Squad only kept me around to make themselves look better and to please just go no-contact with them already.
I know I’m just the sidekick.
The leftovers.
The extra person to help offset the costs of the bachelorette party.
At least they let me in the bridal party.
I toss the crust to Lulu, who stops her whining long enough to gobble it down.
Being part of the popular group is better than nothing, right? It’s better than being alone, right?
The Svensson Investment tower is bright at the end of Wall Street.
We are allowed to take a rideshare home on the company dime if we leave after 9:30 p.m.—and I’m way past that. I could head back to the office with my pizza and order an Uber. Embarrassingly, I have done that before.
Walking cancels out the pizza.
My mom’s salad comment still echoes in my mind.
I head down a darker side street toward the farther-away subway station that will take me directly home.
“Today is the first day of the rest of our lives,” I tell Lulu. “Piper is right—this was a wake-up call.”
The office district gets pretty dead after midnight. Passing the darkened office buildings, I duck my head against the cold and head toward the harbor, pushing myself to just make it to the subway station so I can catch the train.
Thunder rolls, and the sleet turns to cold, pounding rain.
“Should have taken the Uber.” I curse as the wind tugs my umbrella inside out, spraying me with ice-cold water.
I’m trying to whack Lulu away from some questionable waterlogged trash and juggle the last of my emotional-support pizza and the broken umbrella—and I don’t even notice the almost-silent black Mercedes pull up beside me…
Until I feel the hands on my throat… and hear the deep voice in my ear.
“If you scream, I’ll break your neck.”
2
GRAHAM
There comes a time in every man’s life when kidnapping a woman off the street feels like the most reasonable way to prove to his family that he’s not a soulless disappointment.
