From Puck Bunny To The Rival's Queen

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f dawn broke over the city, driving aimlessly until I foun

door, but a magazine

n, captured in a candid moment from last night's gala. The headline screamed: "THE IC

ghing. Donavon leaning in close. And one shot-one that made my stomach clench-of h

zine back onto t

ogether. Each photo on the walls symbolizes m

buzzed. It was my best

link to the

ee this? Jocelynn is ba

n and more like giddy excitement. It was the thrill of gossi

already imagine what kind of painful sc

ack a sin

en

y was im

g to do? You and Donav

int felt like a ja

to realize that the life I thought I had was a carefully c

o get o

rganization-the farcical "Community Relations Consultant" role th

eleting years of junk mail, wh

from First Prin

h-forward analytics firm that was making waves, di

anguage was polite, formal, but held an

Miss M

Conference three years ago. Your insights into predictive athletic

eak. Donavon had called it "impractical," a waste of time. He'd convinced me to drop my PhD ambitions to be

ail co

inciple is looking for a General Manager, and I

f Sales. Everyone, including me, had

de me suck in a sharp breath. It was three times my curre

er was the sen

t J

, First Princ

nating. A lifeline, thrown from the one place I

te.I immediatel

. J

our generous offer. When would be a

back in less

vailable. My office

ack a sin

es

w York morning was bright, the sunlight sharp. For

lynn Burns. You ca

starts tomor

rough me. I needed to look like a professional. A powerh

t was a notification from Instagram. Charlie had

ead: "Welcome

bitter laugh and

aptop and create

Resig

tor of Sales, the revenue I'd generated, the accounts I'd secured. I stated that

tion, reduced to a

ed it in an envelope addressed to Mr. Donavon Bray, and called a courier. I wanted it d

arrived and took