Page 530 of Manhattan Bossholes

Steph had actually managed to get me out of our apartment and into her gym for a workout so challenging that it was making me question why we were friends. I was there on a guest pass, because there was no way I had the time or bandwidth to commit to working out anywhere but our family room. But today, on a dreary Saturday, it felt right to sweat out my troubles on complicated-looking machines.

“This is making me feel like I’m at the gynecologist,” I said as I finished a set on a contraption that required lots of wide thigh opening and closing.

“That’s why I’m body-blocking you,” Steph said. “No one can see your crotch with me standing here.”

“Is this seatbelt really required?” I asked, plucking at the thing she’d insisted I clip on.

“You’re a newbie, so yes.”

Her face looked odd, like she was keeping a secret.

“What are you up to?” I looked around the gym. “You’re acting weird.”

“Moreso than usual?” She laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ve got news for you. And I think you’re going to like it.” She pulled her phone from inside of her sports bra and wiped down the screen. “Did you know that not locking your phone can lead to all sorts of mischief?”

“My phone? What do you mean? What did you do, Steph?” Ice water shot through my veins, because I knew my friend was capable of anything.

Including reaching out to James. My heartbeat picked up at the thought of it.

“You know that group chat you have with your classmates?”

I ignored the wave of sadness when I realized that she wasn’t working behind the scenes to try to repair things with James.

“Yeah, of course. For projects.”

She nodded. “Yup, for projects, and for starting a tsunami.” Her mischievous grin widened. “A #MeToo tsunami.”

“Oh my God.” My mouth dropped open. “Did you…”

Her face lit up as she smiled triumphantly at me as she showed me a text thread she forwarded to her phone. “I did! I sent the group screenshots from some of the creepy messages MG sent you. Not the one where you talked about James, but some of the other gross passes that he made to you. Don’t worry, I didn’t impersonate you or anything. I said it was me and I was stepping up because I thought everyone had the right to know—and the chance to share their own experiences, too.”

“What…how did they respond? Did they think I was exaggerating?”

Everyone seemed to love the man, so me calling him on his bullshit could go either way.

“They lost their damn minds because you’re not the only one, Nat! Six women had similar stories, and a few of the men said he’d texted creepy shit about the women in the class to them.”

“No way!”

Steph nodded vigorously. “We talked about reporting him to the school, but we worried that they might look the other way because he’s a star. So one of the guys, I think his name is Ted, compiled the screenshots and sent them to a reporter he knows who works at The New York Times. She’s putting together a story on this, and she’s been interviewing the other women in your class. She wants to talk to you, too—but only if you’re interested.”

I went cold despite feeling sweaty. “Hold on… I don’t want that sort of attention, Steph. What if MG sues me for defamation or something? I can’t afford to go to court. And if Branson was mentioned…”

I couldn’t help caring about the damn company, despite everything I’d been through there.

“You don’t have to be part of the story if you don’t want to. Or you could go on background, or ask the reporter not to use your name. It’s not just you, so it’s not like you have to be the face of this thing. But it’s happening. He’s not going to get away with what he’s done.”

I managed to untangle myself from the machine and stood up to give Steph a hug. “You’re amazing. Thank you.”

She patted me on the back, then pushed me away. “Oh, something else happened too! Do you know Carly?”

I nodded. “Yeah, she’s super talented. I like her.”

“Well, once I got onto the chat, we got to talking and Miss Carly just got a gig designing for Athleta, and she asked me to be her fit model!”

“What? How did this happen? And when?”

She squeezed my shoulder. “You’ve been a little, uh, distracted over the past few weeks. Carly and I met for coffee a few times. It’s been in the works for a bit, but I didn’t want to say anything until it was official. Carly said there’s a chance they’ll use me on the website and in their catalogs. Imagine it; me, a model!”