We’ve practiced and prepared. Our presentations are as technically perfect as they’re going to get. Which means nothing if we can’t get them to play.

“Hell of a time for my laptop to crap out.” Milo yanks at his hair. He looks like he’s on the verge of rupturing a vein. Last night, we loaded both presentations on his laptop since I’d forgotten to bring mine along. Plus, all of our files are saved on the company cloud drive so neither of us thought it was a big deal. We even tested things this morning first thing. Everything was fine.

But now his laptop has the blue screen of death. And Mr. Lavin and the rest of his team are due any moment. I can actually feel my blood pressure climbing higher and higher.

“Do you need your stress cow?” Milo teases.

“No.” Yes. But there’s no way I’m squeezing that thing anywhere a client might see.

“Don’t worry honey. My dick doesn’t mind if you use him as a squeeze toy if you get nervous.”

I hate that he can make me smile in the middle of a crisis. Because I don’t want to laugh right now. Things are falling apart!

As usual, Milo can sense when I’m about to go off the rails. He rubs my arms briskly. “Let’s not panic. It’s not like our work is lost. Just go borrow Wallace’s laptop and run the presentation from his. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

My steps are careful and measured as I walk out of the conference room but I spring into a run as soon as I clear the door. I’m trying to remain calm so I don’t freak Milo out but I’m seriously hoping these technical difficulties aren’t some kind of omen.

Wallace looks up when I reach his cubicle.

“So sorry to do this to you but I need your laptop. Milo’s is dead and I forgot mine at home. The Lavin team will be here any minute.”

He immediately starts closing the windows he’s working in. “Sure thing. I’ll switch and use the desktop in that empty cubicle across from Kevin’s office.”

My shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you. I have just enough time to log in to the company server and download the presentation before they get here.”

After Wallace logs out, I log on to the company intranet with my own username and password and start downloading the presentation. It’s graphics heavy and will probably take a few minutes, so I carry the laptop in my arms as I walk back to the conference room. The door is still ajar from when I left. The sound of angry but hushed voices reach me before I get there.

“I told you in Vegas, I’m handling everything. There’s no need for you to talk to Mya.”

My mouth drops open. I recognize Milo’s voice but then my surprise turns to fury when I realize who he’s talking to.

Andre Lavin.

I wish I could say that I stormed the room and demanded to know what was going on. But instead I look around frantically and then dive into the first open door nearby. Which turns out to be a janitor’s closet. The sharp tang of chemicals assaults my nose but I hold very still as footsteps rush past. I edge the door open and watch Mr. Lavin’s back as he strides down the hallway to the reception area. Is he leaving?

Probably. Why stay for the presentations when he obviously has some sort of backend deal arranged with Milo already?

My heart is beating so hard that I press a shaky hand to my chest as if that’ll stop it from breaking in half. Everything that’s happened over the past few weeks suddenly seems different in light of what I just heard. Milo’s utter confidence that we had this thing in the bag, his insistence that we work on our campaigns together. It’s all been part of his plan to make sure that he’s the one leading this account. If he’s been communicating with Mr. Lavin directly, then he has all the info needed to be sure his campaign is exactly what the client wants.

And I’m the trusting naive idiot who fell for it.

The laptop chimes and I look down to see that our presentations are done uploading. All this work was for nothing. That’s when I decide I’m done hiding.

I burst from the closet and march across the hall and into the conference room. Milo looks up in surprise from where he’s tapping away at his laptop keyboard.

“It’s still dead. Oh good, you got Wallace’s instead. Any trouble downloading the presentations?”

He’s talking to me as if nothing is wrong. As if nothing has changed. But for me, it’s like everything has been scorched to ash.

“I did, not that it matters. I heard you talking to Mr. Lavin. So I’m not sure why we should even go through with this presentation when you’ve already told him you’re leading this account.”

Milo freezes bent over the laptop. Only his eyes move to meet mine. “What did you hear?”

“Enough to know you’re a liar and you’ve been playing me this whole time. I can’t believe I trusted you. We’ll compete for this account fair and square, Mya. I’m an idiot. But not anymore. Does James know about this?”

“James has nothing to do with this.”

I cut him off. “Good because we’re going to present and then we’re going to let him decide. I’m not sure what you promised Mr. Lavin in exchange for choosing your campaign but it doesn’t matter now. As soon as this presentation is over, we’ll see what James has to say. “

He looks behind me frantically. “It’s not what you think. You have to let me explain.”

“No time for that. Besides your words are just as fake as our relationship.”

A sharp inhale from the door has us both pausing. I turn to see Andre Lavin standing in the doorway watching us.

Shit.

“Mr. Lavin, I’m sorry–”

James rushes into the room then and the rest of the Lavin team follows him. My eyes stay on Mr. Lavin’s until there’s too much activity in the room to maintain eye contact. I’m not even sure what I was trying to say before.

I’m sorry we lied.

Please don’t tell our boss.

This entire web of lies is unraveling so fast that I’m tripping over them.

“Excellent, we’re all here. Thank you for granting us your time today, Mr. Lavin. I know that you and your team are extremely busy. But we have two fantastic campaigns prepared for you to evaluate.” James turns to me and then looks at Milo. “Are we ready?”

I look over at Mr. Lavin. His dark eyes reveal nothing. But he doesn’t appear inclined to tell James what he overheard either so I guess that means the show must go on. We’ll have to do the presentations even though there’s absolutely no chance we’re getting the job.

And I’ll have to stand next to Milo even though my heart is breaking.

* * *

As soon as the lights come back on, I walk over to the Lavin team and shake each of their hands. But the effect is probably ruined because I can’t look anyone in the eye. Andre Lavin shakes hands with James before leaving the room.

James seems startled by the abrupt departure. “Well, that was odd. Great job, guys.” And then he gathers his things and leaves.

I don’t look at Milo as I do the same.

“Mya, please wait.” He grabs my arm as I walk by.

I shake it off and keep walking. Then I go the one place he can’t follow me. The women’s restroom. I barricade myself in a stall and spend the next ten minutes fighting tears. No one is going to see me cry over this. My professional reputation is of a woman who is calm, confident and in control. Even if I’m not exactly sure how I’ll explain this all to James yet, I know that the image I want to present is the same one I’ve spent the last five years building.

Someone who is in control and not being controlled.

“Mya? Are you in there?” Anya’s voice comes from the next stall.

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Not to be nosy or anything but Milo asked me to check on you. Are you okay?”

That makes me want to cry again. Because now I know that all the little things he’s been doing aren’t just sweet, thoughtful things. It’s him keeping tabs on his competitor. How he must have laughed behind my back when he went home!

“Not really but I don’t want him to know that.”

Anya is quiet for a moment. “Men suck.”

Her words manage to get a laugh out of me when I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, so I guess that’s something. “Yeah. Look, can you do me a favor and get my handbag from my office? I need to get out of here and I really don’t want to see him.”

I hear the sound of the stall door being unlocked. “Of course. In fact, on the way back I’ll remind James that he meant to ask Milo about the Adler account. That way he’ll be busy and you can sneak out.”

“You’re saving my life right now.”

“We girls have to stick together. Believe me I’ve been there.”

Five minutes later, the bathroom door opens. I unlock my stall and peer out. Anya hands me my bag with a smile. “They’re in James’s office now. Go. I’ll tell James that you had female problems. He’ll be too traumatized to ask any questions. Trust me. It works every time.”

I thank her again and then rush out. Fate does me a solid because when I check Uber, there’s a car right around the corner. By the time I get downstairs, the car is pulling up.

Right now I just need to be alone so I can think. And grieve. The last few weeks have felt like an awakening of sorts. It was about so much more than just the job. I felt like I found a comfort zone between Mya, the professional and Mya, the woman. Moving on from the baggage of my last relationship, I learned a lot about what I want in a man. Who I want to be. But now I’m left to wonder what it all means.

I’m in love with him. And for him, this has all been a game.

Damn. Maybe I haven't learned as much as I thought.

There are no lights in the windows of our apartment when we pull up. I can’t remember if Ariana was on shift today but I can only hope she’s not there. This is definitely a situation that calls for a bit of a pity cry. Alone. I say goodbye to the Uber driver, promising to give her five stars. I’m turning my key in the front door when a shadow moves to my right.

“What the hell?” I shriek and drop my keys in surprise.

“Whoa! It’s me! Mya, baby it’s me.”

Even though my heart is still in my throat, I calm slightly when I recognize Will’s voice. “Will? What are you doing in my hallway?”

“Just wanted to check on you. After those texts you sent last night I had to see you.” He smiles and I’m reminded of how cute he is. He’s still wearing his suit so I know he came straight from work. He’s always reminded me of the actor Will Smith, tall, lanky and a little goofy. We used to joke that they were long-lost brothers since they shared similar looks and the same nickname.

Then his words register. Last night?

At the look on my face his grin falters. “You don’t remember texting me last night?”

Eyeing him warily, I pull my phone out of my bag and hit the icon for texts. Before going to bed, I’d texted Ariana a playful “Missing you!” along with a kissy face emoji.

Turns out I was messaging Will.

“That was meant for Ariana, actually.”

His face falls. “When I saw that, I figured it meant you were thinking about me too. You know, since yesterday…”

It dawns on me that yesterday would have been our wedding date. No wonder Will thought the message was meant for him. If things had gone according to plan, we would be on our honeymoon right now.

“I didn’t even realize the date. Sorry about that.” I’m just glad it wasn’t something worse. Some of the messages Ari and I send back and forth don’t ever need to see the light of day. “At least I wasn’t drunk dialing like Ari was when we got margaritas a few weeks ago.”

“Margaritas?” Now he sounds intrigued. “You’ve never been much of a drinker.”

“Well, things change. We went out drinking at this new tapas bar and it was a blast. Apparently I danced on the bar.”

He shakes his head slightly. “I can’t even imagine that. But I guess that means you had fun. That’s good. You sound happy.”

For the first time since we broke up, I’m not reading subtext into what he’s saying or assuming that he has an ulterior motive. I’m just taking his words at face value.

Because you don’t care what he thinks, I realize. It’s a liberating thought after so many years using his words and opinions as the litmus for how I lived my life. Now whether he approves or not has no effect on me. I’m secure in the knowledge that the people who really care about me aren’t judging me or waiting for me to make mistakes so they can rub my face in it.

With a little distance, I can also admit that maybe Will wasn’t trying to do that either. He has his share of flaws just like anyone else but he’s not the monster I’d built him up to be after the breakup.

Maybe it’s possible that Will and I are both good people, just not good for each other. And that’s completely okay.

“I am happy,” I finally respond. And it’s true. Despite what happened today, I feel pretty damn good about how my life is going right now. Things might be over with Milo but I’m not going to let that take away from everything else I’ve achieved. I have a great family, a best friend and roomie who would do anything for me and I have ice cream in my freezer.

Hey, I’m trying to look at the bright side here.

Will rubs the back of his neck. “When I saw your text, I thought it meant that you were ready to talk. You never responded to the flowers or returned any of my calls before so…”

Now I kind of feel like a bitch. “I wasn’t ready to talk then.”

“I deserve that after the way I ended things. I’m sorry, Mya. I think I just got scared. Marriage seems like such a big step.”

“It is a big step. Maybe it’s better that you called it off when you did.”

His eyes meet mine, searching. “But that’s just it. Things aren’t better. I miss you. I miss talking to you. I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime. Or drinks, if that’s your thing now. ”

My heart thumps and then starts racing. Just a few months ago, hearing that Will missed me would have been the highlight of my day. All I’d wanted was for him to say that leaving was a mistake and that all our years together meant more to him than just settling for what was comfortable. But now that the moment is here, I can’t dredge up anything other than emptiness.

“Will, I’m glad that you apologized. What you did hurt me and I think clearing the air is a good thing. I don’t want to look back on our time together with regret.”

“I don’t either! I just want things to go back to the way they used to be.” Will takes my hand and squeezes it. That used to be our thing, our secret signal to say we loved each other even when we were in a crowded room.

But now that gesture feels empty. Hollow, just like this conversation. It feels disloyal to be squeezing hands with him when I know that my heart isn’t in it.

“Things have been over between us for six months. That’s a long time. I’ve moved on. You should too.”

He looks like he wants to argue but then he slowly lets go of my hand. ”I guess I figured things out too late, huh?”

“Yeah, you did.” I can’t deny it feels good to get that little dig in. I’m only human, let me have that one. “We weren’t meant to be, Will. I deserve someone who wants the woman I am, not who he thinks I should be. And so do you. Go out there and find that for yourself. Everyone deserves that.”

We were together for a long time, so it feels strange to know this is likely the last time we’ll ever see each other. I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek.

Then I go in my apartment to find my ice cream. And to figure out how to take my own advice.