The Little Black Dress (Love in Las Vegas)

“He did,” she says. “So, yes, I’m very interested in meeting with you. Does Monday work?”

“Monday is perfect,” I say.

“Do you know Broomsticks and Brews? Over on South First?”

“Yes, I’ve been there a couple of times.”

Broomsticks and Brewsis a unique coffee shop over by the arts district. The owners are kooky and wonderful, and the coffee is amazing.

“Does ten a.m. work for you?” she asks.

“Sounds great,” I say enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to meet you.”

“Same,” she says. “You’ve got my number, now. Text me if something comes up and you need to reschedule.”

“I won’t. I mean, I will, but I can’t see anything stopping me from being there. Thank you, Ms. Brown.”

“Please, call me Waverly. See you Monday, Sophie.”

“Bye.”

The call cuts off, and I slump back against the couch with a happy sigh. Waverly Brown is not only my all-time favorite romance author, she’s a bit of a local celebrity. She donates millions of dollars per year to local charities benefitting kids, animals, the homeless population…and so many more.

Working for her would be like a dream come true for me.

A dream that Jared made possible by giving me a glowing recommendation. Even though I quit and left him high and dry with no replacement.

Not that I had any other choice. There’s no way I could continue working for him after what happened. Not after he made me care for him, then turned on a dime, hurling those hurtful accusations my way. In front of his mother.

I pull up his text message and read it again.

Jared: I’m an idiot. I didn’t actually believe what I accused you of, but my demons got the better of me. I’m so sorry, Red. Forgive me. ––J

Forgive me. Could I? I don’t know.

I just don’t know.

* * *

“So,now that we’re done screaming over your exciting new job prospect––and I’m going to need signed copies of all of Waverly’s books––do you want to talk about him?”

My fork pauses halfway to my mouth, the chunk of lasagna hanging precariously from the tines. It was mostly subliminal, my decision to order the dish that I never got to eat at Bethany Hart’s house. I didn’t make the connection until it arrived, and the scent took me right back to that moment when she said Jared’s name, scolding him for treating me so callously.

“Not particularly,” I say, setting my fork down on my plate without taking the bite.

“Are you sure?” Ava asks, obviously not liking my answer to her previous question.

“Soph,” Zoey adds, “we’re here for you. All you’ve told us is that it’s over, and he’s an asshole. We can’t help you through it if we don’t know what happened.”

When I open my mouth to object, Ava cuts me off.

“Spill, bitch.”

Her tone is stern and so different from Zoey’s heartfelt plea, I can’t stop the laugh that barks out of me. Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and tell them everything. The way his mood shifted between when I left the office and when he picked me up. The tense drive. His angry demeanor at the house. The booze. The accusations.

“He chased me outside, but my car arrived and I ran. He called several times, but I didn’t answer and deleted the voicemails without listening to them. I just…didn’t want to hear his excuses or more accusations. I couldn’t. Then yesterday morning, he texted me an apology. And he gave me a glowing recommendation when Waverly called him.”

“He did?” Zoey asks, obviously surprised. “I mean, you’re awesome and he’d be lying if he said otherwise, but you did quit without notice.”