《Monstrous Thing》


 Chapter One

    It''s amazing how fast life can go down the crapper.


    Just one thing, one misstep, and the rug is pulled out from under your feet, and you''re taking a tumble that''s so rough you can''t regain your footing.


    And you find yourself completely screwed.


    I am an expert at finding myself screwed. Not that it''s something to brag about- that''s just been my life since I can remember.


    Monday, I was an employed twenty-something, climbing my way up the career ladder, working the nine-to-five, fighting the daily grind. I had an iron-clad sales portfolio, a fast-growing client base, and my eye on an upcoming role as a lead in head management.


    I''d done all the groundwork: schmoozed with the VP of sales and marketing, bought the weekly team meeting coffee for the past two months, and voluntarily took on all the extra assignments I could for over a year, working until the moon hung high in the night sky. I''d gone through countless sticks of concealer, covering up the dark circles under my eyes from the lack of sleep I''d suffered just to build my repertoire in the company, everything leading to this very moment.


    All that work, all that glory, gone in an instant.


    Tyler Baxter was the kind of coworker who oozed big smiles and even bigger teeth- all the while sliding the knife through your ribs and giving the blade a good twist, waiting to bleed you dry.


    Rumors about him spread across the department like wildfire. All new hires were warned with quick glances and hushed whispers: he stole clients from fellow team members, robbed coworkers of recognition, and was personally responsible for at least a third of the department terminations. He also took over the client accounts of the terminated in the process (a definite win-win for him). Tyler had been called into HR so many times it was impossible to keep count, but he was more slippery than a bowl of garlic butter noodles at Tony''s Pasta Palace. They could never pin him for anything, and he''d walk out the HR manager''s office smiling bigger than the proverbial cat who got the cream.


    Avoiding him like a bad case of mouth herpes had been my go-to plan of action and it had worked like a charm since Tyler had been hired- about a year or so after me.


    But it all came crashing down in the span of a single morning.


    He''d begun circling me at work when the marketing department had announced the previous manager''s resignation. He had turned my way and grinned hard, baring his teeth in signature Tyler-Baxter-Style. Cold shivers shot down my spine and the hair raised on the back of my neck.


    I had officially become his new target.


    Self-preservation was the name of the game, and I was constantly on edge, peering down hallways before making a run to the bathroom and sprinting to the elevators after work.


    I''d done an excellent job of defense and I could almost smell the sweet aroma of victory. The promotion was as good as mine. Everybody said so; I''d worked so hard, sacrificed my personal time, my very sanity- and my work ethic had been noted by the uppers. Everything I had done was finally leading to the glorious taste of victory.


    And then it happened.


    I let down my guard. Tyler caught me during my coffee break.


    "Hey, Vinnie," he said, leaning against the coffee machine.


    I mentally cussed him out before slapping the biggest fake smile on my face and turning around to blind him with my artificial friendliness. I tried to leave, but he blocked my path, and anger began sprouting inside my gut.


    That had become a problem of late. Things that never set me off before suddenly irked me, and things that would make me mad escalated to a rage I had never felt before in my life. I''d never had an anger management problem, but it came out in full force, now, and I had begun to wonder if I needed help. My best friend had offered her therapist''s card, but I was hesitant. Therapists would delve into everything from my childhood to my mother to my love life, and the thought of a stranger prying into those sacred parts of my left me uneasy.


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    Besides, I thought anger might be a good thing to have when it came to Tyler Baxter. Just looking at his face was enough to make me that rage simmer in my gut. He was a twisted individual, and my gut was taking clear notice of it.


    "Do you have a minute, Vinnie?" he asked.


    "Don''t call me that." I tried to keep from bristling. "It''s ''Lavinia'' and I''m busy." I kept my tone even and firm, and I turned to go. I refused to be sucked into his games and everything inside me was screaming to get the heck out of there.


    "But everyone else calls you ''Vinnie''," he went on, his voice dripping with superficial charm.


    "You''re not everyone else," I replied icily.


    He ignored me. "I heard you applied for the management position," he continued, jogging to keep up with my brisk pace.


    "That''s not any of your business."


    "I''m sure you know I applied, too."


    "That''s none of my business."


    "Don''t you want to know your competition?"


    "I didn''t realize I had competition."


    "You didn''t think I would apply?" He faked surprise and chuckled, shaking his head with a tsk.


    The condescension in his tone- I gritted my teeth and clenched my jaw before plastering a smile to my lips.


    "No," I stopped mid-stride and faced him, beaming as bright and cheery as I could, smiling so hard that I thought my teeth would crack. "You misunderstand." I took a step forward, "It''s my fault for not being clearer. Let me explain." My eyes flared and I lowered my voice as I said, "It wasn''t that I didn''t want to know my competition- it''s because I don''t have any competition."


    A small part of me reveled in the confrontation, begging him to say something else, to keep it going. The rest of me was screaming, wondering what was wrong with me.Run, run, run,my survival instincts were begging me- while this strange, small fraction of my subconscious grinned, yearning for more.


    That weird part of me that wanted to verbally lash out at Tyler-the-Toad Baxter was exactly what I was talking about- this part of me rearing it''s head, wanting to fight, fueling a rage deep within me that I never knew existed before. This feeling was primal, and not like me at all. I was more likely to flee rather than fight. I wasn''t a large woman- not at all. In 3-inch heels I could maybe pass for 5'' 7". I had been a tiny child and my growth spurts hadn''t done me justice- so I tried to steer clear of anything and anyone that could be labeled hostile. I always carried two cans of pepper spray and a taser. I refused to become a murder victim because I was a tiny chicken.


    Which is why I shocked myself as I found myself watching Tyler''s reaction with utmost satisfaction. He was not pleased- quite the opposite. His eyes hardened and his lips twitched just a fraction of a second before he mirrored my smile with one of his own plastic grins. He reminded me of a carnival clown, all smiles and jokes until they hit you with a cream pie straight in the face.


    He leaned toward me and said, "You think the promotion''s yours? The only way you could possibly beat me is if you slept with the director. But I hear," he continued, his breath hot and acrid, so close I could feel it against my cheek. "I hear the director''s having some marital problems. I hear his wife has been sleeping with the pool boy." He raised his brows and watched in sheer delight as complete disgust filled my face. He''d hit a nerve and he was reveling in it.


    "I know," he continued, "How clich¨¦. I thought the same. But there you go- that''s your ''in,'' if you want to beat me to the promotion. The director works late, nowadays. I''m sure you could manage to make your way to his office after hours. No one would ever know."


    My back was stiff, and my hands were clenched tight at my side. My smile had disappeared, and I tried to push against him, but he refused to budge. I was cornered between his looming body and a nearby desk.


    I looked around, searching for help and realized we were completely alone. Everyone was on break, or they had scattered as soon as they saw Tyler rear his ugly head. I couldn''t blame them, but it was more than a little inconvenient for my current predicament.


    Dammit, I thought.


    I was on my own, caught in his trap. The walls were closing in on me. That primal anger, that rage was starting to boil. I could feel it getting stronger. The old Lavinia would have run by now, scattered right quick before it reached the breaking point, but Tyler Baxter refused to get the hell out of my way and I could feel the rage and need to protect myself rising in my chest.


    I had to get out of there before something happened.


    "You could see this as me throwing you a bone. That''s how you got all your clients, anyway. You bat those big eyes of yours and charm the pants right off them. That''s what you do, isn''t it? Sleep with everyone to get what you want? It''s not surprising; all women do it. It''s what you''re best at. And the director can be next on your list. I won''t say anything, just don''t forget you owe me when you get the job."


    I felt all control break.


    My eyes burned and Tyler''s own widened in a mixture of shock and terror. He took a step back.


    "Hold on- what the hell is wrong with your eyes-"


    The last thing I remember was seeing flashes of red and a sharp pain shooting through my fist as I smashed it hard into Tyler''s terrified face.

 Chapter 2

    I still couldn''t believe I fell for his crap. I couldn''t believe I hadn''t been able to control the urge to destroy him. Because, let me tell you, I had wanted to do more than just punch that piece of scum in the face. And that wasn''t like me- I had dealt with manipulative assholes like Tyler many times before (and I had a whole string of exes to show for it), and I had never resorted to violence. I would just shrug and kick them out of my life, moving on to new and better things in the process.


    But the one time I lose my shit- and I was paying for that loss of control with a severe lack of employment, complete career upheaval, and a major hangover.


    After security escorted me from the premises, along with my box of belongings and Pete the Office Plant (my one true workplace friend), I''d called my best-friend-since-high-school, Penelope Lafferty, and met her at our favorite neighborhood bar.


    She''d told her job there was a family emergency and made it in record-time, and then it was "tequila shots ''til you drop" and lights out.


    I was waking-up the next morning on my sofa in my underwear and a giant t-shirt, cradling my head in my hands, cursing the day I was born.


    We''d stayed out way too late and wound up drinking way too much. It had gotten real wild real fast. We''d started with one margarita each, keeping it civilized. Then we quickly turned to shots. After a few rounds, I finally felt buzzed enough to release all my emotions and wailed, my face plastered against the sticky bar top, all the while Penelope comforted me and ordered more shots. Then she''d ordered a round for everyone in the bar. "Drink up, bitches," she yelled, raising her shot glass over her head. "It''s time to celebrate. It ain''t everyday you lose your job for punching an asshole!" She held up my arm in victory and the whole bar cheered, saluting me with their free shots. "You go, girl!" a stranger shouted at me.


    I can remember slow-dancing with Pen while sobbing into her shoulder. "It''s okay," she soothed, tearing up herself. "You just let it out, girl. Let it all out."


    We almost started brawling with a stranger when a guy began cat-calling us while we slow danced together. "Yeah!" he yelled with a heavy, drunken slur. "Girl-on-girl is HOT! Now... make-out!"


    "Shut the eff up, you pervert!" Penelope screeched, lunging at him. I held her back, losing my balance and bumping into her, nearly making us both fall. That didn''t stop Penelope from yelling. "Can''t you see she''s SUFFERING? She lost her freaking job! She''s unemployed, now!" Penelope yanked me to her side, protectively. "What''s your name?" she demanded from the drunk man.


    "Bob," was the answer.


    "Well, BOB," Penelope said, with the flare that only comes from being drunk, pointing at me and nearly jabbing me in the eye. "THIS is my best, best friend and she has had a really rough week. She was thrown out of her job onto the street, her and her friend Pete the plant." Penelope patted my cheek, a little too rough- it would have stung if I could have felt my face- and she held back some tears. "She''s one step away from being a hobo! GAWD, Bob! Where''s your compassion???"


    "Yeah," I sniffed. "You effing pervert, where''s your compassion?"


    "I''m so sorry," Bob slurred. "I don''t have any of that comp-comp... compaseee-on. I don''t know what that is right now. All I know is you two," he gave us both a double thumbs-up, "are really, really hot."


    Penelope glared at him with bleary eyes. "You''re a freaking pervert, Bob, you know that? Do you kiss your mama with that mouth?"


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    "Every damn day," he nodded, then turned to a guy sitting beside him. "I live in her basement. She makes me breakfast."


    "Ugh," Penelope made a disgusted face before turning her attention back to me.


    She slammed my face into her breasts and patted my hair soothingly.


    "Pen," I gasped. "I can''t breathe. I can''t breathe!"


    "It''s going to be okay," she cried. "I''m not going anywhere. I''m gonna be right here for you for forever. Right here. Forever," she repeated over and over.


    The rest of the night was a blur of wildin'' and shots.


    Now, the sun greeted me cheerfully as I opened one bleary eye, and I immediately regretted all my life choices within the last twenty-four hours. There was a rustling coming from the floor and I heard a familiar voice.


    "Oh, gawd."


    I peered over the sofa''s edge and saw Penelope. She was in her underwear and a tank, sprawled haphazardly on the living room rug. She looked as bad as I felt, and... I think I smelled a hint of vomit, but I couldn''t be sure. My senses were bleary and unclear... the tequila still had a strong hold of me.


    "Don''t ever lose your job again, okay? I don''t think I can keep going through this kind of... debauchery. Not anymore. I''m getting too old." She rolled over to her side. "I wasn''t made for tequila." She let loose a monstrous belch and groaned. "Yuck. And tequila wasn''t made for me."


    "That''s where you''re wrong." I suppressed my own burp and grimaced at the severe aftertaste. "Tequila was made for all," I mumbled, standing on wobbly legs and slowly shuffling to the kitchen. Retrieving two bottles of water, I hobbled back and tossed one at Penelope before flopping back on the sofa like a half-drowned fish.


    We sat in silence sipping at the water.


    "Did I... lose my pants?" Penelope asked uncertainly.


    "No. I distinctly remember you wearing them home... But I don''t know where they went after that." I paused. "I don''t even know where my pants went."


    "We always lose something when we go drinking," Penelope groaned. "We''re not in college anymore. We''re adults now, we gotta stop losing our pants."


    "We can''t help but lose our shit when we go drinking," I said. "When we go drink, we go hardcore."


    "I''d like to keep my clothes. I don''t need to buy new pants every time we go to the bar," Penelope said.


    "It''s a necessary evil," I countered.


    "It''s really not. Hey," she asked suddenly. "Did I yell at a guy named Bob?" she wanted to know. The memories were slowly coming back to the surface, pushing through the major hangover we were both suffering. Just wait until she remembered buying everybody shots... that memory was going to be a real doozy.


    "You yelled at a lot of guys," I told her. "It''s okay, I had your back, though." I held my hand out for a fist bump and she met me halfway, booping knuckles.


    "This could be why I don''t have any luck getting a boyfriend," she pondered. I didn''t deny it. She had a knack for getting trashed and yelling at anything with a penis- including her neighbor''s pet cat, Lenny. "I see you," she yelled at Lenny as I dragged her to her apartment. He stared at us from his owner''s window, judging us with unblinking eyes. "You think you can just do whatever you want because you''re a boy, don''t you? Well, you''re WRONG- you''re wrong!"


    Penelope shook her head. "I really need to work on that," she said sadly. "I''ve just got so many angry feelings when I think about men. They make me so angry. It''s because of-" and I cut her off, shushing her quickly.


    "Shhh! We do not speak his name," I told her. And we laid there, letting the silence envelope us.


    "It''s so odd," I mused.


    "What''s odd?"


    "Being here on my couch instead of..." My voice drifted; the words caught hard in my throat.


    Penelope lifted her head with a grimace and looked at me with as much sympathy as she could muster amid a major hangover. "Instead of at work?" she finished.


    I nodded.


    "Well, I''d say it would be odd if it didn''t feel odd. How long were you at that job? Three years?"


    "Five," I told her drily.


    "Jeez-" she broke off and grew silent.


    "Yeah," I sighed. "That job was everything to me. I thought I was working toward something. I had goals, a life plan. Senior manager by thirty, VP by thirty-five. You know? But now... it just feels like wasted time." I sipped at my water. "Hey, Penelope?"


    "Hmm?"


    "Thanks for getting trashed with me."


    She snorted and immediately groaned, pressing her hand against her head. "That''s what best friends are for," she told me. "But- I''m so serious- never again. Tequila is most definitely not for all."


    I smiled.


    Penelope reached up, searching for my hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. I squeezed back and we both laid there, quiet and listless, staring at the ceiling and sipping water until we eventually fell back to sleep.

 Chapter 3

    "So, you punched him?" Penelope and I were sitting at the coffee shop, meeting with our friend Torie Belle, who was staring at me like my hair had caught on fire. "Like, with an actual fist, punched him?"


    "Full-on, fist-to-the-face, knocked-out-a-freaking-tooth, broke-his-smug-nose, punched him," Penelope described, beaming with pride.


    "Gawd," Torie said, slowly raising her coffee cup to her lips. "He must have pissed you off something fierce, girl."


    "Believe me. It wasn''t worth it," I grumbled, shaking my head.


    "What do you mean ''it wasn''t worth it?'' That man had it coming," Penelope said. "From everything you''ve said about him, he deserved way more than a punch to the face."


    "Yeah," Torie agreed. "I''m a pacifist, but even I think it sounds like you punched him for the good of womankind. What a creep."


    "Thanks, you two, but even if I get a major high-five for punching a chauvinist in the face from women everywhere, that doesn''t help me pay the bills or my student loans," I told them both drily. "Who''s going to want to hire someone who got fired for punching out a coworker?"


    The reality of the situation was- I was completely screwed. Sure, I had some money in savings, but after that ran out, I was done. I was on the street holding a sign and buying gas station burritos with other people''s left-over change. Like Piss-Cup-Mike, which was a legitimate, if not the most ideal, back-up plan.


    Everyone avoided Piss-Cup-Mike''s Street Corner unless they were sure they had change to give him. He was a lot like that troll in that fairytale with the Billy Goats Gruff and the bridge. Your change paid the toll, and he left you alone, otherwise... they didn''t call him Piss-Cup-Mike for nothing.


    I always made sure I had at least a dollar to give him any time I saw him. I was a big softie for Piss-Cup-Mike ever since he chased away a guy who''d been harassing me one Saturday night, following me back from the bar I''d been at with Penelope and Torie. He was catcalling, cajoling, wanting my number even though I had told him to "get lost" countless times. I dropped change in Piss-Cup-Mike''s hand (knowing what would happen otherwise), and hurried by, but the asshole who''d been stalking me hit his hand away, calling Piss-Cup-Mike every bad name in the book. And Piss-Cup-Mike lived up to his name, throwing his piss in my harasser''s face and chasing him for two blocks before returning to, once again, take up residence at his street corner.


    And from that day on, I held a certain fondness for my unlikely savior.


    Deep down, I knew Piss-Cup-Mike didn''t give a damn about the stranger harassing me and he was just mad about not receiving his due change, but I like to think of him as my personal hero, sans cape, in ripped clothes and grizzled facial hair.


    I mumbled something about gas station burritos and fumbled with my coffee cup. Torie and Penelope looked concerned, but I kept my mouth shut. I was not going to tell them what had been going on in my head. They would not approve.


    "I gotta admit, punching anyone- even a chauvinist- isn''t like you," Torie shook her head and eyed me. "Is everything alright?''


    Penelope sat up and looked at me. "Hey," she said. "This doesn''t have anything to do with that what we talked about, does it? You know, you getting angrier more easily lately? Have you given my therapist a call?"


    "What do you mean?" Torie said, turning to look at me sharply, squinting her eyes. "You got an anger management problem, Vin?"


    "No!" I denied it vehemently. "Of course not, when have I ever had an anger problem?"


    "I''d say now if you''re punching people at work ad getting fired," Torie countered.


    "What, this?" I scoffed. "This was a fluke. It was one of those freak incidents that happen once in a lifetime. And I got mine out of the way in my twenties. Y''all are the ones who should be on the look-out. Your freak incidents haven''t happened yet."


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    "Don''t be concerned for us," Torie cocked a brow. "We''re still gainfully employed, freak incident or not."


    "Ugh," I groaned. I couldn''t deny it. "Y''all, I''m definitely in a pickle," I shook my head and thumped it against the table. Torie patted my back sympathetically and Penelope made a sad face, looking thoughtful.


    "You know what this calls for?" Torie said, looking  at both Penelope and me slyly.


    "Oh no," Penelope whispered, leaning forward seriously. "Are you serious? Here? At the coffee shop? Really, Torie?"


    "Honestly, Torie," I said. "It''s really, not necessary-"


    "Time for a reading!" Torie whipped out her deck of Tarot cards triumphantly. "I never go anywhere without them." She was smiling so big as she moved our coffee cups and laid the dark purple material across the table.


    Penelope suppressed a groan, but I grinned. I loved Torie''s witchy side. She admitted that she''d always wanted to be a witch since she was a little bitty thing- making potions with mud and leaves and sticks in her backyard. "My mama thought I was possessed by a devil," Torie had said, laughing. "A hardcore born-and-bred Christian, she couldn''t understand my need for something different. I never fit in at Sunday school. I was always a freak." I could absolutely understand what Torie had meant- but not for the reasons she would have figured. She had no idea how much I understood.


    "This is the best opportunity for a reading!" Torie said with cheery enthusiasm. "When major life events happen, some extra insight is the best thing. And I am telling you, my intuition has gotten a hundred times more accurate."


    "More accurate than when you told me I would meet my true love on the corner of Maple and 3rd Street on the 5th day in October and it was Old Man Sullivan down the street?" Penelope told her.


    "Yeah... That was a minor fluke. Definitely more accurate than that," Torie said sheepishly. "Okay, enough about the past- let''s see what the cards have to say about you, Vinnie." Torie shuffled the deck, her eyes closed. She spread the cards across the purple cloth and took a breath. She picked three cards and turned them over, blinking.


    "So," she began slowly, pointing a a disastrous looking card, an exploding tower and people falling to their doom. "This one means that you''ve had a major upheaval, something that has turned your world completely upside down."


    Penelope rolled her eyes. "Well, she was just fired, so that''s not exactly news."


    Torie ignored Penelope and continued. "But this card, this one suggests something bigger, something important is headed your way. Someone is coming for you, someone important, bearing a gift."


    "What kind of gift?" I asked. I had to admit, this reading was getting interesting.


    "I can''t say for sure," she said uncertainly. "But it seems like it''s connected to the previous card. It''s got something to do with the major upheaval. It''s going to be a blessing or.... a curse..." Torie furrowed her brow and looked serious. I shifted uneasily in my chair. Penelope shook her head at me. She was sending me silent messages to ignore the reading, but there was something to this one. Torie seemed to be in a zone.


    The last card depicted a man wandering amid a group of trees. "And this one... something about the woods...? A man in the woods? But," she paused. "It''s like a warning. Beware."


    "Beware the man in the woods?" Penelope looked at Torie like she was crazy.


    "I know how it sounds," Torie said defensively. "But I feel it. It''s the woods and this man..."


    "Torie," Penelope interrupted. "Look around. There''s no woods. Hell, there''s not even a man."


    "I know that!" Torie was indignant. "Well... Maybe it''s metaphorical." She studied the cards, squinting her eyes hard at the pictures.


    My skin shivered. Penelope was always the skeptic, but growing up the way I did, the mother I had... I couldn''t just brush this off like some crazy Tarot rant on Torie''s part.


    "I guess I should have used the crystal ball," she mused aloud.


    "You brought that with you?" Penelope demanded. "What else do you have in that bag?"


    We were interrupted by the sound of the bell above the coffee shop door ringing loudly, and the door being flung open wide with grand flourish.


    "I''m here!" Matt sang dramatically, his arms wide, lifted toward the heavens. "So," he plopped in the open chair between Torie and Penelope. "What''d I miss? It sounded serious on the phone."


    "Vinnie punched a psychopathic chauvinist in the face," Torie announced.


    "Oh, you go girl! That''s my badass bitch bringing justice to vaginas around the world! I am woman, hear me roarrrrr," he drew out the ''r'' and made a claw with his hand.


    "But then she got fired for it and lost out on her big promotion," Penelope added.


    "Oh, yikes. What the hell? Why are we meeting at the coffee shop? It sounds like we should be meeting at the bar. Hell, I can always go for some tequila; this situation calls for major day-drinking, ladies."


    Penelope and I groaned and Torie rolled her eyes.


    "Been there, done that, and, apparently, we weren''t invited," Torie informed him tartly. Matt gasped.


    "Girl, next time you get fired from work and punch a dick, you call ALL your friends, got it?"


    I gave him a thumbs-up without lifting my head.


    He patted my hair and shook his head. "Poor baby, it looks like you had a miserable time, so I forgive you," he said.


    "It looks like they had way too good a time to me," Torie disagreed.


    "Without us? I doubt it. Now," Matt said seriously, settling in his seat and placing his palms on the table. "I need coffee and I need some tea, babies. Spill it! Tell me everything."

 Chapter 4

    "They fired you for punching that walking, talking HR nightmare?" Matt was incredulous. "You know what you need? A good freaking lawyer. My friend Thomas could help you. He would take your case, no questions asked. He eats shit like this for breakfast." Matt smiled mischievously into his coffee. "And he owes me."


    "Oh, THAT ''Thomas''," Torie wiggled her eyebrows and Matt swatted her playfully, putting a finger to his lips.


    "What?!?! You better tell us!" Penelope ordered.


    "No way, that story is need-to-know... and consider it payback for getting drunk without us last night," Matt added.


    "Totally unfair! You know I live vicariously through y''all''s sex lives," Penelope whined. "It''s been months for me. Ever since I broke up with-"


    "Nope!" Torie cut Penelope off. "We shall not speak his name," she put a finger to Penelope''s mouth. "He was trash, and you deserve way better."


    "I keep telling you, it ain''t hard to get laid; just walk your cute little ass outside and take your pick. Men ain''t picky. Well, straight men, anyway. I''ve got standards," Matt said.


    "He''s not wrong," Torie added, shaking her head, the black ringlets dancing around her face.


    "Remember the pervert who got caught-" she leaned forward and lowered her tone, gesturing for use to lean closer. We all moved in, craning to hear. "Remember that pervert who got caught whacking his sausage on the subway?"


    "They do that ALL the time," Pen said.


    "But not inside a sub sandwich," Torie said.


    My jaw dropped and Matt covered his mouth. Penelope looked disturbed.


    "Thanks for forever ruining sub sandwiched for each of us," Pen gagged.


    "Please tell me it was ham," Matt begged.


    "Why does that matter?" Torie wanted to know.


    "Because I don''t eat ham," Matt said.


    "I don''t know what kind of sub sandwich it was," Torie pondered. "But we can say it was ham if that makes you feel better."


    "What happened to him?" I asked.


    "He got his sick butt thrown in jail," Torie said. "It''s times like these when I thank gawd that I like both the ''P'' and the ''V.''"


    "I wish I was attracted to men and women," Penelope sighed. "That would open up so many more options for me."


    "It does make dating more... interesting," Torie admitted, leaving us to wonder what she meant.


    "And that''s definitely going on the list of "girl''s night topics," Penelope ordered. "There''s some juicy secrets you need to be sharing with your best girlfriends in the world." Pen grabbed both mine and Matt''s shoulders.


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    Matt smiled broadly. "For the record," he said, "I''m the best girlfriend, but you two are free to believe what you want."


    "WHAT? Are you kidding me? Who left me stranded at Eddy''s Pizza with the bill?" Torie glared at him.


    "I honest-to-Goddess forgot my wallet," Matt swore, crossing his heart.


    "After eating an entire supreme pizza by yourself?" Torie added. "I had to order a whole extra pizza, and you ate some of that one, too!"


    "I didn''t eat it all! I took some to-go!" Matt pointed out.


    "Wow," Pen said sarcastically, giving Matt a big thumbs-up. "Yeah, you sure beat me and Vinnie for best girlfriend."


    "I DO!" Matt was emphatic. "In fact, Vinnie!" He turned to me abruptly. I jumped. "You''re moving in with ME." He nodded.


    "Hold on-" Pen sputtered.


    "Nope! Don''t even try to argue about. I am the only one with a guest room- she can''t sleep on a couch for the unforeseeable future." He looked at Pen pointedly. She glared. "And-" Matt paused. "I could use a little help with the rent."


    "I knew it," Pen shook her head and Torie gave herself a face-palm.


    "My credit card is a little maxed-out," he admitted. "You don''t have to go half-sies, but a couple hundred bucks a month until you get back on your feet, maybe?"


    "I could do that," I agreed, mentally calculating my current savings. A couple hundred was definitely do-able.


    "Maybe three hundred?" Matt said hopefully.


    "Three hundred would be okay," I said, eyeing him.


    "Three-fifty? No, four hundred- max!" he said, getting excited.


    "MATT!" Torie and Penelope exclaimed in exasperation.


    "Okay, three hundred works," he said quickly. "This is going to be so much fun!" He hugged me excitedly. "I can''t wait to be roomies!"


    "Thanks, Matt," I said uncertainly.


    He released me. "But, back to your unlawful termination," he said.


    "It might have been a LITTLE lawful," Torie interjected. "Like, a teeny-tiny bit lawful."


    "NO!" Matt was adamant. "It was the most unlawful. And you need to contact a lawyer ASAP."


    "But I doubt I have a case," I told them, crumbling the edge of a cookie and sighing. "I punched Tyler Baxter, and that''s assault."


    "It sounds like self-defense to me," Matt replied thoughtfully. "He had you backed into a literal corner and was harassing you, making sexual insinuations. You have a good employee record, and you never stepped foot inside HR before any of this. And his HR record speaks volumes. You should be compensated, but I wouldn''t want to go back to work for a company that can''t protect its employees from predators."


    "Or hires creeps like that in the first place. That HR Department sounds like it''s run by a bunch of idiots who don''t know their ass from their head," Torie scowled, and Penelope nodded.


    "But that''s why you need to give Thomas a call," Matt said. "I insist. I''ll phone him tonight and give him a heads-up and you promise me that you''ll call him." He scribbled a number on a napkin and shoved it in my purse. "Promise me, Vinnie," he said.


    "I''ll think about it," I sighed. "Right now, I just want to climb back in bed and sleep. For a year."


    "Don''t you dare," Penelope warned, giving me a hug. "We wouldn''t know what to do with ourselves if you slept for a year."


    "Thanks, y''all," I said, tearing up a little.


    "Awwwwww, group hug!" Matt leaned over and wrapped his arms around us. Torie joined in and we all started laughing.


    "It''s going to suck really bad at first," Matt said, giving me one last hug as we left the shop and made our way home. "But it''ll get better eventually. I swear."


    I nodded.


    "Go home and start packing your things. You''re moving in! I need some extra cash. Pronto!" Torie smacked his arm and he flinched.


    "Ouch," he whimpered.


    "Don''t be rude and I wouldn''t have to do that," Torie glared. "What am I, your mother?"


    "Good gawd, no," he shuddered. I laughed. Torie tried smacking him again, but he was prepared and dodged her easily. Winking at me with a grin, he turned down his street and waved. "Get to packing- and remember- call Thomas!" he shouted.


    "I''ll think about it!" I waved back.


    He flipped me the bird.


    "Right back at you!" I yelled.


    "Awww, look at you two soon-to-be roomies getting along so well," Torie giggled.


    "Yeah," Penelope rolled her eyes to the heaves and shook her head. "What could possibly go wrong?"


    "A lot," Torie and I both said at the same time and we all laughed. Torie waved down a cab. "Smell you ladies, later," she called, waving from the window.


    "Do you need me to come back with you? So, you''re not alone?" Penelope asked.


    "I''ll be okay. I think I just need a good cry and I can''t do that with anyone around. Not even my best friend in the world," I leaned my head on her shoulder and sighed.


    "Okay, but promise to call me if you need anything." She looked worried as she gave me one last hug before getting in a cab herself.


    I stood on the sidewalk and watched the cab disappear in the city traffic. Even with all the noise from the cars and buses, all the people rushing past, I was weighed down with a wave of loneliness so severe it felt crushing, and I wondered if being alone was the wisest decision.