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“Girl, I haven’t seen him in over a week. It’s just embarrassing.”
“Girl. No one told you to sleep with him in the bathroom at that bar.”
“I had had three lemon drops,” I say, “and I don’t think I really ate much dinner.”
“Girl, you have to stop blaming the alcohol for the bad decisions you’re making.”
“I’m not blaming the alcohol. Look, I fully admit that I was super turned on and I wanted him. I never realized that hate sex could be so good.”
“Hate sex?” she scoffs while laughing her head off. “Now you hate him?” She raises an eyebrow as if to say we both know you do not hate him.
“You know I dislike him very strongly.”
“I mean, I get it,” she says. “Trust me. I get it, but there’s a thin line between love and hate, you know.”
“Oh my gosh. Ever since you watched that movie, that’s all you can say.”
“What? That was a classic ’90s movie. It isn’t exactly something that I see on the must-watch movies of the millennium,” I say.
And she giggles. “You’re such a hater. You know that, Ella?”
“I’m not a hater. I’m just annoyed with myself. Why can I not say no to this man?”
“Because he gives it to you good.”
And I groan. “I don’t even want to think about it. How embarrassing. Like what did he say when he went back to that Melissa?”
“I’m guessing he didn’t just say, ‘I banged my assistant in the bathroom.’”
“Well, duh,” I say, groaning. I sigh. “And why hasn’t he been in the office? Why is he ignoring me?”
“Girl, I don’t know.”
“And did I tell you what he said?”
“Yes. You told me everything that he said.”
“He said that was his Christmas present to me. Like I’m some sort of loser, that I need him to give me sex as a Christmas present.”
“I know,” she says, “You’ve told me this a billion times already.”
“You know what I said to him?”
“Yes, I do,” she says, interrupting me. “You said all you want for Christmas is not him or something like that.”
“Because it’s true. How egotistical does that man have to be to think that I would want him as a Christmas present? Like, do you think you are everything in the world to someone like me?”
“He most probably does,” she says, laughing. “I mean, I’m not going to lie. You went over there, interrupted his business meeting, and I’m still not even sure about that.”
“Right,” I say, agreeing with her. “Who takes a colleague to a bar?”
“Exactly,” she says. “Anyway, you interrupt his business meeting, go on about how you’re pregnant, and then you go into the bathroom with him and you proceed to let him sleep with you. And it wasn’t like some sort of lovemaking. It was definitely what most people would classify as a hot fuck.”
I groan. “You’re not making me feel better, Isabel.”
“What? I’m your best friend. I will always be honest.”
“Thanks,” I say.
