Page 15 of The Money Shot
Karen took a shaky breath and looked down, her hand trembling as she gripped the edge of the podium. “Everyoneneeds to collect their belongings and leave the building immediately. As I mentioned, you’ll receive an email in the next 48 hours with details about severance.” Her voice softened, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “Please also visit the New York State Department of Labor website to file for unemployment benefits.”
Then, just for a second, the stern mask she wore slipped, and her face crumpled, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I… I’ll be filing too,” she choked out, her voice catching in her throat. She pressed her lips together, but it was too late. The tears spilled down her face as her shoulders shook. Her sobs echoed through the room, raw and full of the same grief and helplessness everyone was feeling but trying so hard to hold back.
No one spoke. No one dared to. We just stood there, watching her, absorbing her pain like it was our own. I felt Marissa’s hand tighten on my arm as I stood there, trying to process it all, trying to tell myself that this couldn’t be real, that it was all just a nightmare I’d wake up from any second.
But it wasn’t.
Outside, the sunlight seemed brighter, harsher, like it was exposing everything that was wrong with the world. I clutched my bag tightly, my knuckles white, as I trudged toward the subway, trying to keep myself together. My heart was still racing from what happened in the conference room, the whispers, the shouting, the terrible look on Karen’s face when she finally cracked. And Mr. Reynolds… his smug, arrogant expression as he brushed off everyone’s lives like they meant nothing.
I kept my head down, jaw clenched, but tears pricked my eyes, slipping out no matter how hard I tried to stop them. Amess of emotions churned inside me—anger, embarrassment, panic—and with every step, it felt like the weight of it was pressing down harder. I was just a cog in the wheel, after all. It was so damn obvious now.
Without even thinking, I headed for the subway, moving on autopilot, like I could just pretend it was a normal day and I was heading back to Jack. And then reality hit. I stopped dead in my tracks as the thought of him waiting at the station sank in. He’d wonder why I wasn’t there this afternoon, so I decided to stay in Manhattan until it was time to meet him after work.
I veered off the sidewalk, ducking into a coffee shop called The Grindery. The place was half-full, a place where everyone’s eyes were glued to a laptop or buried in a book, barely acknowledging each other’s presence. Perfect.
I ordered a coffee, took it to a table in the corner, and pulled out my laptop. My hands were shaking, but I managed to type in the New York State Department of Labor website, pulling up the forms for unemployment. I stared at the first line—Reason for unemployment—and felt a surge of anger rush up again. I didn’t even know how to answer that honestly without just typing “CEO’s illegal Ponzi scheme,” and even that didn’t seem to cover it.
As I typed in my information, my mind felt like it was spiraling. A girl at the next table glanced over, her eyes lingering on me a bit too long. I ignored her, but after a minute, she leaned over, her voice soft. “Hey, um… are you okay?”
My head snapped up. I was too tired, too done, to hide how I felt. “No,” I muttered, too sharply. “I just got laid off, so maybe… mind your own business?”
Her face dropped, and her mouth opened like she was about to say something. But she hesitated, her eyes shifting downward, and then, without another word, she pushed back her chair andhurried out; the bells jingling as the door slammed shut behind her.
I let out a long breath. That was brilliant, just brilliant. My head dropped to my hands. I’d been rude, but I didn’t even have the energy to feel bad about it.
I finished filling out the forms, hit “submit,” and shut my laptop. I wanted to close my eyes, just for a second, but the noise of the café was all around me, buzzing, somehow making me feel even more alone. What the hell I was supposed to do now?
I sat there, staring at the bottom of my now empty coffee cup. But the reality of it all was sinking in, deeper and sharper with every second, and the emotions were pressing down, one after another—panic, anger, embarrassment—until they mixed together into something shapeless and heavy. I felt… ashamed, somehow, which was ridiculous. None of this was my fault. The SEC and that self-serving CEO were the culprits, not me. But the shame was there, sinking its teeth in like I’d personally failed.
My first job out of college. It was supposed to be the start of something real, a future I could be proud of. And yet, here I was, unemployed and drinking bitter coffee in a corner of a pretentious café. This feeling of shame wasn’t just about me. How would Bradley see this? He was already a junior partner at a major law firm, already leagues ahead of where I thought I’d be. And Jack…
God, Jack. He was more than just my best friend; he was the one who’d always believed in me, even when I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Jack was the one who’d listened to all my stupid ideas, kept me going with every little pep talk when I felt like I was in over my head. And the thought of him knowing, of him looking at me with that sad, understanding look… it was too much. I couldn’t bear it.
Maybe I didn’t have to tell them. Yeah, maybe I could just suit up every morning, pretend like everything was fine, andhead into Manhattan with them. I’d come here to job hunt anyway, so it wasn’t even a lie. I’d ride the train with them, get off at the same station, and just… figure things out on my own. They didn’t need to know. I could handle this myself.
I took a long breath, and a plan formed. I’d keep my head down, spend my days looking for a new job, and by the time anyone noticed, I’d already have something else lined up. That’s all I had to do—hold it together, get through this, and make sure Jack and Bradley never found out.
Chapter Nine
Liam
The next morning, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, scrubbing it over my face like I could somehow wash away the worry clinging to me. As I dried off, I caught my reflection in the mirror and forced a smile—the kind I used to flash when talking to Jack and Bradley about our futures, back when everything felt bright and full of possibility. But now, it looked thin and brittle, so I tried again, lifting the corners of my mouth, squinting a bit to make it seem more real. I told myself it’d get easier with practice. Another try, and I thought I’d nailed it. If I looked calm and put-together, maybe I’d start feeling that way too.
I thought back to yesterday, meeting Jack and Bradley at the subway and telling them I’d had a “great day” with a forced cheer I hoped they couldn’t see through. Lying to them felt awful, but until I lined up another job, I didn’t have a choice. I needed to keep smiling and keep pretending
In my room, I considered putting on the same suit I’d worn yesterday. It was clean enough, and it wasn’t like I’d be seeing clients or doing anything that required a fresh outfit. But I thought better of it and put on clean clothes instead, reminding myself that looking sharp was part of the whole charade.
When I went to the kitchen, Jack was there drinking coffee, scrolling through something on his phone. Bradley wandered in wearing pajamas, yawning as he announced, “Took a personal day. Figured I’d use the time to get the apartment ready for the party tomorrow.” Then he turned to us, eyebrows raised. “So, could you guys each give me a couple hundred bucks to help with party stuff?”
“Sure, no problem,” I muttered, doing my best to keep the wince off my face. Jack nodded absentmindedly, still focused on his phone.
A few minutes later, Jack and I left together, hurrying to the station to catch the train. For once, there were two seats next to each other, so we slid in side by side. I felt the solid warmth of Jack’s thigh pressed against mine, and I told myself not to get excited. We’d decided long ago to stay just friends—that friendships lasted, and romances didn’t. That was supposed to keep things simple.
As we settled in, I noticed the man across the aisle reading the Finance section of the New York Times. A headline caught my eye, bold and unmistakable: SynergyCoin Declares Bankruptcy as SEC Investigates Fraud. My stomach clenched, and I looked away quickly, praying Jack wouldn’t notice.
Desperate for a distraction, I turned to Jack and started babbling about the party. I must’ve sounded wired, jittery even, because Jack glanced over, raising an eyebrow.
“You okay?” he asked. “You sound like you drank an entire pot of coffee.”