I can't do this.
Fuck. I really can't do this.
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Nope. Still can't do this.
She clears her throat.
Okay. This doesn't have to be graceful. It can be messy and ugly, as long as it's done.
This is the right decision.
It's what I want, even if it's scary.
No more fetching lattes and dry-cleaning.
No more snide comments.
No more diva musicians treating me like the help.
"Lacey?" She makes that noise again. "I'm leaving."
Shit. It's now or never.
It needs to be now.
I take one more deep breath and exhale slowly.
"I'm putting in notice." I keep my eyes on the floor. "My last day will be next Friday."
"Okay…" She taps her toe against the concrete floor. "Why are you leaving?" Her sneer adds there's no way someone like you found a better job.
"Family reasons." It's bullshit, but I can't tell her the truth.
"All right…" She takes a step towards the door. "Start looking for your replacement right away. I want five candidates coming in for interviews on Friday. Schedule them every half hour, starting at four." She smiles evilly. "I need to know they're committed."
Only a true sadist asks people to travel Friday evenings in Los Angeles. But that's Danielle. It's good that I'm quitting.
It's terrifying, but it's good.
I smile back. "Of course."
She huffs, annoyed that I'm not annoyed, and leaves without a goodbye.
I settle back into my chair.
I'm almost unemployed.
And I get Mal all night.
I text him back.
Lacey: I did it.
Mal: Wear a nice dress, no panties.
God help me.
21