She stared at me, her brow furrowed in concern.
"So, word got around then I take it?" I asked.
She nodded. "Elle called me saying you weren't answering your phone. Explained what had happened. I came as soon as I could." She stepped towards me and pulled me into a hug. "I'm sorry, Soph."
I didn't know what to say, so I just hugged her back.
"Can I come in?" she asked. I nodded and lead her into the lounge.
"Now, tell me about it," she said.
And so I did, being careful to avoid mentioning Sebastian. She obviously had no idea about that, and it was still too raw for me to talk about.
When I was done, she let out a long breath and shook her head slowly. "I'll never understand how the people in that place are so blind. It's like it's all just a popularity contest. And if I ever meet that bitch Jennifer, she's going to need more than some weaselly little partner to hide behind."
I found myself grinning. Now that was what best friends were for. Making you feel like you weren't totally alone.
"So, there's no chance this will all just blow over?" she asked.
I shook my head slowly. "This is 'firing people 101'. Get them out of the building quietly, and then finish the job. And even if it wasn't, you can't work in a place like that when someone so senior has it out for you. Not unless you want to eat shit for the rest of your natural life."
Ruth nodded slowly, her mouth pulled tight. "Okay, so then we start out trying to find you something new. It sounds like Ernest wasn't on board with all this, right? So he'll write you an awesome reference. That plus a resume like yours and I bet you can stroll into any of the other big law firms in town." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe your mystery man could help out as well? If he knows one of the equity partners at Little Bell, he probably has other connections too."
I gazed at her, desperately willing my face to stay composed, but I couldn't hold it all back.
"Oh shit, not him too?" she asked.
I nodded.
She reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "Damn, the universe really knows how to kick a girl when she's down. I'm sorry, hon'. So he turned out to be an asshole after all?"
I blinked a few times. "I don't know. I don't think so. I'm still not really sure what happened." I sniffed sharply, realising that a few hot tears had begun to trace their way down my face. "Could we not talk about him? It won't make any difference. It's over. Maybe in a few months I'll be ready to laugh and dissect it with you and Lou over mojitos or something, but for now I think I just need to deal with it in my own way, okay?"
She hesitated. "Okay, sure. But just remember; I'm here if you change your mind."
"I know. Thanks."
She studied me for a few more seconds before clapping her hands. "You have, however, given me an idea. If there was ever a better excuse for midday mojitos, I haven't heard it."
I groaned. "I don't think going out and getting tanked at three o'clock on a Wednesday is the best way to start rebuilding my life."
"Who said anything about getting tanked? I'm just trying to get you out of the house. Have you even been outside since it happened?"
I sighed, then shook my head.
"Exactly. So come out for one drink and some food that doesn't come out of a plastic packet. You'll never make any progress if you just hide out in here forever."
"I don't know, Ruth, I—"
"I'm not taking no for an answer," she interrupted. I knew there was no point in arguing. She was as stubborn as me when she wanted to be.
"Fine. One drink."
"Attagirl."
After taking a few minutes to shower and change into something half respectable, we headed for King Street. It felt surprisingly good to be out of the house. We found a little Tapas joint and settled in for lunch.
The longer we talked, the better I found myself feeling. It was inane conversation, mostly about Lou turning into a frumpy housewife, but that's exactly what the doctor ordered. I even laughed a few times, which I hadn't thought I'd be capable of anymore. It wasn't much more than a distraction, but it was a start.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Determined to begin regaining some semblance of control over my life, I made myself get up at nine the next morning. It was a tiny gesture, but at that moment every deliberate action felt like an achievement. Some bacon and eggs, a shower, and a lengthy grooming session later, I actually felt vaguely human.
I'd promised Ruth I wouldn't stay cooped up all day, so with nothing else on my schedule for the morning, I decided to take a walk. It was a lovely spring day outside, and I figured the sun might do me some good.
I wandered around Newtown for an hour or so, nabbing a coffee and a Danish in the process. It was nice just being outside among the hustle and bustle. It served as a reminder that despite how awful I felt, the world hadn't stopped turning. Things changed, and new opportunities were out there. I just had to find them.
Eventually, I headed home. The sooner I began hunting, the sooner I'd be able to start rebuilding my life. Snagging my mail from the letterbox, I strolled in through the front door, dumped it down on the sideboard, and headed for my laptop. It wasn't until I fired it up and sat down that I noticed anything was amiss. There was a breeze blowing into the room from the back door. The back door that now lay in a splintered mess on the kitchen floor.
It was one of those slow realisations that happens a fraction too late. An unexpected sight, a dumbfounded stare, and in the blink of an eye it's over. I sensed movement to my left, but before I could spin, something dark was slipped over my head and I felt a sharp jab on one side of my neck. I tried to yell for help, but whatever drug they'd injected me with worked fast. All I managed was a strangled squeal that cut off sharply as everything began to fade out.