Holly assured me Jack laughed the whole thing off, declaring he had zero intention of firing me. But the story shook me. Stuart raised a glass. “Here’s to a better week ahead.” “To Petit,” said Holly. I touched my glass to theirs. “To fewer people hating me tomorrow than today and yesterday.” We finished the meal talking about plans for the next week and a half—life would roll on, as much as I wanted to run away from it for a few days. Afterward, Holly and Stuart walked me back to my room, Holly loitering down the hall while Stuart kissed me goodnight. They headed back to their rooms at the Osthoff, and I went inside and sat down on the bed. I’d held bewilderment and distress at bay throughout dinner, but now I felt adrift, unfocused. Disheartened. I was mystified at how my life—personal and professional—had gone from business-as-usual to a minefield in the space of two days.
