Okay, so I know that there are like a million evil lil' calories in this lamb gyro from the corner food truck, but you know what? I really don't have any desire to be healthy when I smell the food being handed to us.

But I mean Ashley is thinking the same thing as me I think. Because she looks at me as we sit down on the steps of the Seagram's Building and she says to me with a pretty authoritative voice, "You know, babe, we're going to have to stop eating like ten thousand calories for lunch."

Oh. My. God. As if she's not the one who Facebook'd me earlier this morning and asked me what I was doing for lunch. Sure, I may have suggested the food truck, but only because that's our go to spot. Where we used to sit and eat greasy meat. And stare at the meat walking by on Park Avenue we wanted to...you know, get greasy with.

Okay, okay, yes, I've been saving that one for a while now. I honestly thought it would be more fun when I said it than it was, so if you're rolling your eyes, I didn't deliver it right, okay?

Besides, with everything going on with Derek and Nadia and Carter Jeffries and the money trail, I'm not sure I want to get greasy with anyone till I figure this out.

"Oh my God, are you sex daydreaming on me now?" Ashley asks out of the blue, her mouth chewing lamb gyro.

Now I really roll my eyes and look at her. "Is that all you're focused on, Ashley?" I ask her. "Just how much sex I'm having?"

It takes a moment for Ashley to swallow before she can reply. "Well, I'm certainly not having any sex," she says to me. "And it's been so long for me, I think my pussy is just closing up, you know?"

I'm rolling my eyes again, but inside I know the feeling. I wasn't getting any until Derek showed up.

And completely upended my life.

To the point where I don't know if he's being completely honest with me. But a part of me wonders if this is even a big deal. I mean --

"Hey," Ashley says, eating a piece of lamb that fell from her gyro as she looks at me. "You still with me?"

"Yeah," I sigh. I don't know what else to do. And I guess Ashley realizes this because she goes from looking at me with a snarky mouth filled with lamb gyro to concerned.

She still has to swallow before asking, "What's wrong, babe?"

I sit there, chewing absently for a minute. I don't actually know where to begin. I mean, how do you describe the vague feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach?

"Is it Derek?" Ashley asks, her concern evident now.

Awww. I mean, we snark at each other sure, but the moment there's something wrong with me, I know she's going to drop everything if there's a hint of trouble with me.

"Alicia," Ashley asks, her voice now serious. I know it's serious because she puts down her gyro. She's not eating it anymore. For Ashley or I to put down food during lunch, when we only have like that little time before scurrying back to our desks, is a big fucking deal. "How are things with you and Derek? For reals," she asks and I know I'm gonna have to tell her the truth.

"Babe, I think he's hiding something from me," I say to her and look down. "Something pretty big. Maybe really illegal."

Ashley is silent, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"There's not much I can actually say about it right now, because it involves work too, but every time I try to steer the conversation toward trying to find out more, he plays it off or changes the subject," I say, the words tumbling out of me at this point. "Just the other day, we were having brunch at Balthazar and I thought I'd finally get to the bottom of the whole thing and get the truth. He totally just changed the subject and then when he couldn't change the subject he just made me forget."

"What?!" Ashley asks. "How did he make you forget what you were talking about?"

I almost feel like crying. Not because of Derek actually. But because I'm going to sound so blonde right about now.

"I dunno, Ash," I say to her in a pleading voice. "He just kinda swept me off my feet. Whisked me away to the Caribbean."

Ashley looks at me. "He didn't like your questions, so he flew you off to the Caribbean?" she asks me.

I nod. Then to just dig my hole a bit deeper, I add, "He has a private island."

To her credit, Ashley doesn't do anything right away. I mean, she takes bite of her gyro and chews thoughtfully before looking at me.

"I mean, this one time I was dating this guy who worked at Dow Jones," Ashley says. "I went through his phone one morning and saw his texts with this ho from his office. He was fucking her on the side," she says. I nod at her, wondering what her point is going to be.

"Anyways I totally flipped out on him," she continues. "He made it up to me by taking me to Red Lobster. So I guess I know what you're talking about with your billionaire. Red Lobster to him is a romantic private island in the Caribbean."

Is it me, or is Ashley just sighing?

"So why can't you bring it up at work?" she asks me.

That's it, isn't it? That's the part that makes this situation so fucking sucky.

"Because I love him, Ash," I say quietly. "Or at least I'm falling in love with him so hard right now."

We sit there for a moment. For a moment, the both of us are quiet. The cars and people pass us by. Park Avenue continues to bustle and I look to my left, to the MetLife Building looking down on the entire Avenue from 42nd Street.

"Looks like you need to make a choice, babe," Ashley tells me after a moment of looking at me. I can see in her eyes that she doesn’t envy me. That she actually feels for me. "It sucks, but you need to figure out whether you wanna risk your career by keeping something potentially illegal to yourself for love, or risk losing the guy you’re falling in love with to keep your job with a faceless corporation run by a bunch of dudes."

Wow.

When you put it like that, no mater what I do, I'm kinda fucked. And not in a way that I'm gonna cum, either.