by Meg Cabot
Pain. Intense pain, radiating from behind eye sockets. Can barely move.
What HAPPENED? Oooooh, writing in capitals is hurting my eyes. But really . . . what DID happen last night? It’s all starting to come back, but only in patches. I remember . . . Skiboy. I remember Skiboy being really nice to me.
But why? Why would Skiboy be nice to me? He’s Dolly’s boyfriend. Something to do with my job, I know but . . .
Ooooh. That’s right. I have no job. I have no job anymore. Which is good, because it’s . . . 12:45 in the afternoon, which means if I did have a job, I would be three hours and forty-five minutes late for it now.
Amy. Amy fired me. That stupid cow. I can’t believe she did that.
Jen. Did Jen come over last night? I seem to dimly remember—
Oh. My. God.
Jen did come over last night. To check on me. But so did—
MITCH HERTZOG!
Mitch Hertzog came over last night to check on me. Only I was PLASTERED. And . . . oh my God. I think I threw up on him.
Okay. Okay, deep breath. Just get to the phone. Just get to the phone to call Jen and see if I really did throw up on Mitch Hertzog. Maybe it was all a bad dream. . . .
It wasn’t a dream. I just got off phone with Jen. I really did throw up on Mitch Hertzog. On his shoes, no less.
Oh! And he had on really nice shoes! They were wingtips. Jen says there were chunks of vomit stuck in the little punched-out places. . . .
To which all I can say is . . . Good.
Oh, God. If I had anything left to throw up, I’d throw it up now.
WHY did I let Skiboy fix me all those drinks? Why didn’t I just say no? Oh my God, now on top of being homeless, jobless, and boyfriendless, I’m an alcoholic. They’re going to have to send me to the Betty Ford Clinic.
Only I can’t afford to go there, because I don’t have any health insurance, because I lost my job.
Jen says Mitch was really very kind and concerned about me last night. Great. The person who is responsible for getting me fired was kind and concerned about me last night. As I was yakking on his shoes.
WHY didn’t I see any of this coming? Not the being-hung-over-from-drinking-with-Skiboy thing. The losing-my-job thing. My God, I just WALKED into it, didn’t I? Amy’s little trap.
Of course, I had an excellent guide steering me along . . . Mr. Mitch Hertzog.
Hertzog. God. It evensounds as if I’m hurling up an evening’s worth of vodka and tonics when I say it. Hertzog. Hertzog. Amy HURTS OGG.
Oh God, I wish I were dead.
Good morning, roomie! Just a note to say I know you probably feel likemerde ce matin . Never fear, I’m the queen of hangovers. There’s tomato juice in the fridge, and Vitamin B in my medicine cabinet.
And don’t worry about the bathmat. Hortense comes on Thursdays. She’s a whiz with stains of any kind.
Skiboy said he had a fabulous time last night. Apparently you are very entertaining when you’re sloshed. He said you sang him the Kentucky State song. We should make a point to go out for karaoke one night—you and me and Skiboy. It’ll be a blast!
Anyway, be a lamb, and if any packages come for Skiboy via UPS, make sure you hide them away somewhere, just in case Peter comes home unexpectedly. I don’t want any unpleasant surprises, if you know what I mean.
Feel better, and use my Jacuzzi, if you think it will help.
Ciao,
XXXOOO
Dolly
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: You
Hey, you. You okay? How you holding up? You had a lot of people worried about you. Your lawyer friend seems like a really nice guy. Attentive, too. Call me if you want to talk.
J
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Me
Yeah, a real nice guy. A real nice guy who got me fired.
Oh, and as if things weren’t bad enough, guess what I got this morning? I mean, besides an apology from Mitch—which is not anywhere near groveling enough, in my opinion. He had the nerve to ask me to dinner. Yeah! Dinner! Like that’s going to help get my job back.
I got an e-mail from VIVICA. You know, the supermodel? The one who does the Victoria’s Secret ads on TV?
Yeah. Guess who she’s interested in dating? Dale. But she wanted my input first. I’m Not Making Any More Sandwiches played at a fashion show, and she met him there. She wants to go out with him, but she doesn’t want to pursue it any further unless he likes driftwood sculptures, or something. I don’t know. I was too hung over to read her e-mail properly.
God. I should have just stayed in Kentucky. Seriously.
Kate
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: You
No, you should not have stayed in Kentucky. If you had stayed in Kentucky, you never would have stopped wearing blue eyeshadow. Seriously, Kate, it was not a good look for you.
Also . . . you might never have met Mitch.
Kate, I know you might not believe this, but the guy was really hurting last night. He feels TERRIBLE about what happened with you and Amy. I really don’t think he saw it coming. I don’t know what exactly went down at the deposition—he told me a little about it—but his intention was NEVER to get you fired. I really think he’s on our side in all of this, Kate. I think he wanted to help get Mrs. Lopez’s job back . . . because he thought that’s what YOU wanted.
I think he also wanted to make Amy look like a liar, but whatever, that one backfired pretty badly, too.
I know you probably don’t feel too forgiving right now, but really, I think the guy meant well. And he didn’t even blink about his shoes. Yourbarf isn’t even gross to him. That has to mean something.
You know what he does, to stay in such great shape? Mitch, I mean? He volunteers at the Y. That’s how he got all those muscles you told me about. He plays wheelchair basketball. With paralyzed guys, you know?
Would a guy like that REALLY purposefully try to make a girl lose her job? No.
Now snap out of it. We’re going to get your job back. I promise.
And call the guy and say you’ll go to dinner with him.
J
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Me
Are you HIGH???? I’m not going to have dinner with Mitch Hertzog. Even if it is true about the wheelchair basketball. Or are you just saying that to get me to like him? Because if I find out it’s not true . . .
Not that it matters. THE GUY GOT ME FIRED, JEN.
And okay, maybe you’re right, and he didn’t mean it, and genuinely feels bad about it. But the fact is, I DON’T HAVE A JOB. Or a PERMANENT ADDRESS. Or . . . ANYTHING.
So even if he DOES like me and my barf, what do I have to bring to the relationship? Yeah, that’d be a big zero.
So what’s the point of having dinner with him? Because what would a totally PERFECT, WHEELCHAIR-BASKETBALL-PLAYING GUY LIKE THAT EVER SEE IN A JOBLESS REJECT LIKE ME????
Going to put my head in the oven.
Kate
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: You
Fwd: l Say it isn’t so! l Kate l Kate
Well, before you kill yourself, check out these e-mails from your personnel. Do these sound like they’re from people who think you’re a reject? DO THEY?
Fwd:
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Nadine Wilcock-Salerno
Re: Say it isn’t so!
Is it really true? Kate got the axe? But WHY? She was the nicest personnel rep this stupid company ever had (present company exclud
ed, of course)!
This REEKS of Amy Jenkins. Is she behind this? I knew that bitch was up to something the other day in the staff dining room, when I saw her actually lift a piece of buttered bread to her lips. I haven’t seen her go off Atkins in two years . . . I should have known she was celebrating.
What can I do to help get Kate back? Because if Amy thinks we’re lying down for this one, she’s high. She can tell us to be sweeties and wipe the seaties, and she can take away our Dessert Lady. But she can’t fire Kate and get away with it. No way.
Nad:-(
Fwd: l
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Mel Fuller-Trent
Re: Kate
Oh my God! Is it really true? Amy fired Kate? Why? Not for tardiness, I hope.
Jen, this is awful. Kate was SO nice to me when they were giving me that grief about going part-time. We have to DO something! What can I do? The Trents love holding benefits. Can we hold a benefit? For Kate? Just let me know, PLEASE!!!!
Mel
Fwd:
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Tim Grabowski
Re: Kate
I just heard. This means war. The T.O.D.’s aware of that, isn’t she? That in firing Kate, she’s alienating the entire Tech Dept? Because there isn’t a guy here who wouldn’t walk over hot coals for Kate. She’s the only one in that damn office (not including you, Jen) who treated us computer guys with anything remotely resembling respect. Not to mention compassion.
And she used to come to ourFarscape marathon parties, too.
What can we do to get her back? Just let us know, and it’s done.
Tim
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: You
Do those sound like e-mails from people who are happy to see you go? No, they don’t. People here like you, Kate. MITCH likes you, too, barf on his shoes or not. Now cheer up.
Besides, you can’t put your head in Dolly’s oven, I just checked with her, and it’s electric. The worst that can happen is that you’ll bake yourself.
J
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Me
Thanks for the e-mails. I guess they made me feel better. A little.
I’m going out to buy a paper. I need to start looking for a new job. Not to mention a new apartment. But first things first.
Did I mention I hate everyone in the whole universe? Present company excluded, of course.
Kate
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To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog
Re: Kate
Hi, Jen. I tried to call, but all I got was your voice mail.
Have you heard from Kate this morning? How’s she doing? I e-mailed her, but I haven’t heard back.
Let me know if you’ve heard anything.
Mitch
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: Kate
She’s fine. Ornery, but fine.
I don’t think it will come as too much of a shock to you if I tell you that you are not one of her favorite people this morning, either. She doesn’t seem to remember too much about what happened last night. How are your shoes, anyway?
J
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog
Re: Kate
My shoes are fine. And it’s great to hear that Kate’s all right. Not so great, you know, that she hates my guts, but I can’t say I blame her.
Listen, do you have access to Kate’s computer at work? I was wondering if you’d be willing to commit a little white-collar crime for me. Nothing major, just check Kate’s e-mail IN box and see if that note from Amy Jenkins—the one telling Kate to quit writing the warning letter to Ida Lopez—is still there. Could you do that for me, and let me know? I’d appreciate it.
Mitch
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: Kate
Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but Kate’s workstation has been cleared, and her computer’s hard drive replaced. Amy got in here first thing after lunch yesterday and made sure the place was denuded of any sign that Kate Mackenzie ever worked here. Her files have been confiscated as well. My guess is, they’ve already met their fate with the office shredder. Amy is pretty thorough in her ruthless quest for total domination over the HR division of this company.
So unless Kate printed out a copy of her e-mail from Amy and took it home—which is exceedingly doubtful, knowing Kate, who likes to keep her work and home life separate—I’m sorry to say it’s gone, never to be seen again.
Nice try, though, Romeo.
J
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog
Re: Kate
I’m not giving up that easily. Give me the name and number of your IT guy, will you, Jen? Thanks.
Mitch
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Tim Grabowski
Re: Kate
Got your message. Just tried calling but I got your voicemail.
Anyway, in answer to your question, the only way I could read Amy Jenkins’s e-mail is through her computer. All of our e-mail is sent through a POP server. The mail program automatically downloads mail from the server to the sender’s hard disk, then
it erases them from the server, so the only way to get to the sent e-mail is to go onto the hard drive of the computer from which it was sent.
Which, unless you’ve got a key to Amy’s office, is going to be next to impossible.
Wish I could be more help. Kate’s a cute kid, and we’re all just crushed over what’s happened. If you talk to her, tell her that the nextFarscape marathon is at Raj’s. She’ll know what I mean.
Tim
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Tim Grabowski
Re: You
Hey, what’s up with you and Dylan McDermott? You two an item yet, or what? I hope so. That guy is seriously easy on the eyes. But what’s with the Superfriends ties? Hermès is so much classier.