“Tricia,” she said with a forced grin, “Mr.

Christensen has foolishly decided to terminate his contract with Brown and Sullivan. I can’t help but feel as though you had something to do with this.”

Trish instantly appeared mortified and shook her head in denial.

“Well, in any case, it doesn’t much matter anymore. I gave you specific instructions earlier and you chose to defy them. I cannot have my employees thinking they can under-mine my decisions.”

“Marla, I thought you would want me to—” Trish tried to explain.

Marla cut her off with a flutter of her hand. “As I said dear, it doesn’t matter. Your employment with Brown and Sullivan is hereby terminated, effective immediately.

You can contact HR to arrange picking up your personal things on Monday. Give me your security badge.” Marla held out her hand.

I felt the shock hit my chest and creep up my throat. The very last thing I wanted to happen was playing out in front of me. I wasn’t sure if Ryan was completely serious when he offered her a job.

“You’re firing me?” Trish asked. Shock and anguish made her lip quiver.

Marla smirked. “You are quick,” she said condescendingly. “Perhaps you won’t be so underhanded in your next job.” Trish’s hand trembled as she dug in her clutch purse. I wanted to hug her and scream a few obscenities at Marla for being such a royal bitch. Man, she was cold.

Ryan rubbed his forehead. “Look, if you’re pissed-off at me—fine—but don’t take it out on her.”

Marla crossed her arms and planted a high-heel-clad foot. “I don’t see how any of this concerns you.” She snapped her fingers for Trish to speed it up. “She disobeyed my orders.”

“And I overrode them!” Ryan stressed. “I asked her to stay.”

“And here I thought you could survive without my services,” Marla snidely returned, flitting her eyes. Trish handed a card attached to a chain to Marla and sniffed back some tears.

My emotions swirled furiously. Anger, denial, hatred, and guilt raced through my thoughts, each trying to dominate. Ryan was speechless, searching for a good comeback that failed to surface.

I had to do something.

“Um, Ryan? I believe Trish is now a free agent,” I stated. “And she is more than quali-fied to handle your PR.” I gave him one of our private signals, darting my eyes at Marla briefly and scratching my chin, conveying the message that he should tell her to go to hell. His eyes brightened and he nodded.

“Yes . . . yes she is,” Ryan confirmed.

“And you just so happen to be looking for new representation.”

That’s right, honey.

Tell her off. Marla could shove it deep where the sun doesn’t shine. We might not be able to save Trish completely, but I was going to make damn sure she at least walked away with her dignity.

“We’re done here, right?” he asked Marla, dismissing her as if she were no longer of importance.

It was extremely enjoyable to watch Marla’s face crumble in defeat. How I wished I could have videotaped it so we could watch it over and over again for laughs.

Ryan clutched my hand in his and glanced at his empty beer bottle. “What do you say, ladies—time to discuss Trish’s new salary over a few shots of tequila? That is if you want to work for me.”

Trish grinned from ear to ear. “Hell yeah!” she said enthusiastically.

“You can’t do that,” Marla said with failed authority.

Ryan smirked at her. “Watch me.” After two hours of schmoozing with people I didn’t know, I felt awful for not paying any attention to my friends. I searched the room for them, only to notice that one of my friends was sitting at an empty table.

“Hey, why are you sitting here all by yourself?” I asked Pete. I sat down in the chair next to him.

Pete looked confused. “I’m not alone.

Gary just went to the men’s room.”

“Oh. Where are the girls?” I looked around for Marie and Tammy.

Pete pointed to a far corner. “They’re over there yappin’. Gary is really pissed that Marie keeps touching that guy in the black shirt.

You might want to say something to her before it gets ugly. He’s kind of drunk.” I looked over and saw my two best friends laughing heartily with a group of people. I didn’t know who the guy was, but he had short-cropped brown hair and looked like a male model from this distance. I hadn’t been able to spend much time with my friends since we arrived, but I did notice Gary sitting at this table, scowling all night.

“I’ll take care of it—in a minute.” I craned my neck to get a better view. “That’s Marcia Gay Harden on Tammy’s left. She played the principal, remember?”

Pete nodded but I could tell that he really didn’t care. He wasn’t impressed by celebrities unless they were wearing football or baseball uniforms. He actually looked tired and ready for bed. I could relate.

“Where’s Ryan?”

I nodded in his general direction. “Over there. He’s talking to Edward Zwick.” Pete looked lost. “The director?”

“Ooh, he’s talking to the director,” Pete said in a teasing tone, like the simple fact that my fiancé was holding court with the who’s-who of Hollywood was no biggie.

Pete’s face turned serious. “Are you sure you’re up for all of this?” His eyes bore into mine, trying to read me.

I chewed on my lip as I pondered his question. The room was so full of wealth and pretentiousness, we were both feeling out of place.

“I know what you’re trying to say, but all of this really isn’t Ryan, either. He’s uncomfortable with this, too, you know.” Pete nodded, mostly agreeing with me.

“Besides, maybe all of this is who I’m supposed to be. I’ve just been going through the motions for so long now, running the bar out of—out of guilt.” I huffed. “If my dad were still alive, I’d probably be sitting behind some desk in Manhattan being completely miserable instead of being here.”

“Yeah,” Pete concurred. “Probably. Although you could have had your own fame, you know.”

A tiny “gah” sound squeaked out. “Yeah right.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Taryn. You know damn well I speak the truth. But instead of trying to model, you let those idiots in school make you feel unworthy.”

Memories of being singled out and bullied, enduring relentless taunting because I had bigger boobs than most and had a chubby boy for a best friend, weren’t things I wanted to think about right now. Even Marie and Melanie questioned why I stuck around with Pete so much back then. But none of their opinions mattered more than what Pete had mattered to me. He was the only person who came to my rescue when Emily Howard pushed me down on the playground on the first day of school, and for years he was the brother I’d never had.