A Second Bite at the Apple Read Online Free Page A

“You’ll find information in there regarding allocation of the severance, as well as a primer on unemployment insurance and resume building.” She pushes her drawer shut and shakes her head. “I’m sorry about this. It isn’t what any of us wanted.”
    I flick through the packet and then give Linda one last probing look, hoping there is even the slightest chance she will realize she’s made a mistake. But Linda simply stares back, her lips pursed.
    Finally, she reaches across the desk and grabs my hand, shaking it firmly. “Be well,” she says. Then she gestures toward the door. “Please send in Abby on the way back to your desk.”
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    Be well? Be well? No, I will not be well, Linda. I will be very, very unwell, thank you very much. I had misgivings about this job, but somehow that makes losing it even more painful. It’s like being dumped by someone you don’t like. All you can think is, I should be the one dumping YOU .
    As I walk back into the newsroom, everyone’s eyes follow me to my desk. I catch a glimpse of Charles, who still isn’t wearing proper pants and yet is one of two people in this room who will still have a job in an hour. This has to be a sign of the apocalypse.
    â€œLinda wants to see you,” I say to Abby, dropping the unemployment packet on my desk. I yank open my top file drawer and begin stacking my folders in a pile next to my computer.
    â€œWhat happened in there?” Melanie asks.
    â€œI have an hour to clear out my desk. I’m toast.”
    Charles taps his pen against the side of his computer. “Did Linda say anything about the rest of us?”
    â€œI’m not at liberty to discuss our conversation.”
    â€œPuh- lease, ” Melanie says. “We’re all going to find out within the hour anyway.”
    I turn to the Queen of Gossip, the only producer among us left standing. “Then you can wait.”
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    The meetings are brief and orderly, and by the time Linda has finished speaking to everyone, the atmosphere in the newsroom approximates that of a funeral. Even Charles and Melanie, the two of us who still have jobs, look as if they’ve lost their childhood puppy and best friend on the same day. I don’t blame them. They’ll now be doing the jobs of two or three people for less money and fewer benefits, and neither of them signed up for that.
    I manage to load all of my folders and tchotchkes into a large cardboard box I found in the storage room, the only downside being that the box now weighs approximately six hundred pounds, there are multiple feet of snow outside, I live twelve blocks from the office, and there is no one to help me.
    â€œWould either of you mind if I stored this under your desk? I’ll pick it up when they’ve done a better job clearing the streets.”
    â€œI don’t think you’re supposed to come back in the building,” Melanie says. Then she waves me toward her desk. “Throw it over here and call me when you want to pick it up. I’ll bring it down to you.”
    I shove the box behind her desk, give her and Charles each an awkward hug good-bye, and then say good-bye to Tony and the few other friends I have at the network.
    â€œWhere are you off to now?” Melanie asks as I throw on my jacket and gloves.
    I give one last look around the office, pull my fleece hat over my head, and clap my gloved hands together. “To get drunk.”

CHAPTER 4
    The problem with getting laid off at noon on one of the snowiest days in Washington’s history? There is nowhere to get drunk, other than your own apartment. And when the only drinkable alcohol in your apartment is a half-empty bottle of vodka and a few airplane miniatures of gin—well, let’s just say the situation is less than ideal.
    A high-speed wind whips at my face as I stomp through the piles of snow in my fat snow boots, my chin tucked tightly against my