AFTER POLISHING OFF THE FIRST bottle of wine and most of the second, Erica crashes into a deep sleep. When she wakes up, her head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton candy and her mouth tastes like sandpaper. Her brain starts spinning—what’s Nylan’s next step? What’s hers? And Greg? She thinks she trusts him. Does she trust herself? Outside, the city is enveloped in a drizzly fog. She wraps herself in the covers and wishes she could stay in bed all day. Or forever.
Erica stumbles into the shower, turns on the cold water, steps in. As the frigid water runs over her scalp and body, she forces herself to face the truth about last night. She slipped. And she loved every wine-softened second of it—would love to spend today, tomorrow, and all the days after in that tender haze. But she knows that wine would turn into vodka and vodka would turn into hiding and lies and slurred speech and work screw-ups and on and on . . . and now she’s shivering, trembling, her whole body is shaking. She steps out of the shower and dries herself, running the towel roughly over her skin. But even when she’s dry, the shaking won’t stop.
Erica walks down to GNN. After her meeting with Nylan at nine, there’s a technical rehearsal for her show at eleven—the first with full lights, music, makeup, and wardrobe. In her office she looks over her notes on the show, but the letters blur, she can’t focus, she’s too restless. She gets up, walks into the closet, and tries to pick an outfit to wear for the rehearsal. There are so many choices, it’s overwhelming—she’ll ask Nancy for some help. She goes to her desk and calls her extension.
A woman’s voice she doesn’t recognize answers, “Wardrobe.”
“Oh, this is Erica Sparks, I’m looking for Nancy.”
There’s a pause and then, “Nancy Huffman doesn’t work here anymore.”
“What? What happened?”
“That’s all I’m at liberty to say.”
Erica sits there in shock, then she calls Nancy’s cell. Voice mail picks up. “This is Nancy Huffman. I’m not available right now, but please leave a message.” Hearing her voice is . . . eerie. “Nancy, it’s Erica. I just heard. Call me, please.”
Erica calls Greg. “Do you know what happened with Nancy Huffman?”
“She was fired yesterday, escorted out of the building.”
“Why?”
“Theft. They claim she was billing for more than her garments cost.”
“That’s ridiculous. And why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“I found out this morning. Aren’t you due at Nylan’s in a few minutes?”
Erica hangs up. The news about Nancy is disturbing but she has no time right now, no time . . . She checks herself in her office mirror. Does the fear show on her face? She can’t let it show, she can’t let him know. He knows. She knows. She stands up straight, the trembling has stopped, hasn’t it? She throws back her shoulders and heads to the elevators.