My HERO Ex Boyfriend

by Raquel Belle

  “CUT IT OUT!” Serena isn’t shouting but she’s pretty darn close. Shit. I hear Amanda inhale sharply next to me. “This meeting is not for airing your personal opinions regarding our HR processes.” She stares at Jake and me in turn.

  “That said,” she sighs heavily. “There has been some discussion among the higher-ups about how to best fill this position. And we’ve come up with a unique selection process, which…” she pauses and gives us the death stare yet again. Have I turned to stone yet? “Which I was about to tell you about before I got interrupted.”

  The room remains deathly silent. Shit. Why did I have to speak up and make a scene? I can’t believe I let Jake goad me into acting so unprofessionally. Now I’m on Serena’s list. Smooth, Sarah.

  I have to focus now; Serena is still talking: “Because the candidates thus far are all extremely qualified, P&B will initiate a unique competition to definitively choose our new VP of Social Media.”

  A competition? I can already feel my adrenaline kicking into high gear.

  She continues: “Each applicant must create one brand new Instagram account. This account needs to be personality-focused, not product-oriented. Starting today, you have one month to build a following. The person with the most followers at the end of the four-week period wins the title.”

  A small murmur of surprise runs through the room. P&B has never done anything like this before.

  “It’s a bit unconventional,” Serena admits, acknowledging the shockwaves she’s created with this news, “but given the circumstances, it seems like the right approach.”

  I raise my hand; I have a million questions about this competition.

  Serena shakes her head slightly at me and keeps talking: “All followers need to be organic. You can’t purchase followers, which will be considered cheating and automatically disqualify you. We will check not only for the number of followers but also for active engagement. The accounts need to be set to public, obviously.”

  I put my hand down. She’s already answered three of my questions.

  “Finally,” she takes a deep breath. “P&B will announce the competition publicly on its own Instagram page. The higher-ups want to show a more unconventional, modern side to an ad agency that’s been around for decades.”

  Another small swell of conversation drifts across the room. She’s right. P&B is respected because it’s been around for so long but it can look old school and stodgy compared to the young boutique ad agencies popping up in Brooklyn.

  “SO,” Serena shuts down the whispers with a sharp word, “as I said before, if anyone else plans to submit an application, the deadline is C.O.B. today. For those who have already applied, please see me before the end of the day to share the Instagram handle you have chosen. We will publically launch the competition and announce your Instagram handles from the P&B account today at 6:00 p.m. That’s all.” She dismisses us.

  Woah. The meeting is dispersing and everyone around me is getting up and milling about on their way out the door, chattering excitedly. This is huge. What should my new Insta personality be? What kind of focus should my profile have? And what about the name of the handle?

  “Sarah! Hellooo, earth to Sarah.” Amanda literally waves her hand in front of my face.

  “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

  “Daydreaming up the perfect Insta account to kick Jake’s butt?”

  “Pretty much,” I smile.

  “Let’s go grab an early lunch and get started. No time to waste!”

  I start laughing. “Amanda it’s barely 11:00 a.m. That definitely doesn’t qualify as a lunch of any kind, early or not.”

  “Screw it! Your future career hangs in the balance. Let’s roll.”

  She’s right. If a 10:45 a.m. “lunch” was ever warranted, it’s for this. Twenty minutes later, Amanda and I are camped out on the terrace of our favorite smoothie shop, soaking in the last rays of warm September sun while we plot my success — and Jake’s demise.

  “Okay so looking at stats of popular Insta accounts, there are always a few surefire bets when it comes to getting followers excited and engaged.”

  “Sure: hot girls, luxury stuff, cute animals, especially puppies or kittens…” Amanda starts rattling off the list we both know so well.

  “And we have to take the time crunch into consideration,” I add. “There’s no time to make this a super personal account. We need flashy stuff that will wow people and draw them in immediately.”

  “Then it’s got to be luxury. Luxury and tits. What about @LuxuryTits for the handle?”

  “Amanda!” I can’t help laughing. “I think I still need to keep it remotely professional given that it’s a work competition.”

  She grins, “Okay fine, we’ll leave out the tits part. Or at least make it less obvious.”

  “You’re right about the luxury part though. That’s always a winner.”

  “What about, like, a luxury girl with a New York twist?”

  “That could work… Like upper east side cool meets over-the-top money.”

  “Totally. People will eat it up.”

  “Luxury on Lexington?” Lexington Avenue is a major street cutting south through the Upper East Side. A sort of New York City landmark. “Or just Lex?” Everyone here abbreviates the street’s name to just that.

  “Luxury on Lex?”

  “Too long… But… Luxe on Lex! Let me check if it’s available.” I login to Insta and set up the account immediately. “Got it. @LuxeOnLex it is.”

  “Now for your first post,” Amanda is busily fumbling at the clasp of the gold Louis Vuitton monogram bracelet on her wrist. “Let’s get some high-end name brands on there right from the start.”

  “You’re the best, Amanda.” I remember she splurged an entire Christmas bonus on this bracelet — she wears it every day. “Thank you so much for helping me with this.”

  “Please! I’m down to support any woman’s climb up to the top — especially if they get to crush an ex who broke their heart in the process. Just remember me when you rule the world.”

  She reaches over and secures the bracelet on my wrist and grabs her phone, preparing the shot. Then she pauses. “Sarah. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Do what? This picture?”

  “I mean this whole thing,” she waves her hands. “The competition. The VP job. I’m positive you’re going to get it but…”

  “But what?”

  “I mean…do you really want to end up like Serena one day? All the power but none of the love? She’s a powerhouse of a woman but she seems pretty miserable most days… Like today. I thought you were going to get canned for a second! When she’s in those moods…”

  “I know, I know, she does have a pretty negative vibe. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Successful women can have fulfilling personal lives, too.”

  “I guess but you’re already following in her footsteps on the personal side as well as the professional side. You haven’t dated anybody since Garrett. And that was two years ago. You’ve barely been on even a casual date since then!”

  “Garrett was just not… the right fit. He wasn’t driven enough. And he was a distraction.”

  “I mean, you are tough to keep up with.”

  “Some day there will be somebody who can keep up with me,” I shrug. “Until then… I definitely want this job. And I definitely deserve it. Way more than Jake.”

  She grins. “Preach! Well then, let’s do this.” She squints into the phone as she’s lining up the picture. “Just put your hand up by your neck a bit, like you’re running it along your collarbone. Then we’ll get some cleavage in there along with the bracelet.”

  “Amanda! The focus is supposed to be on the luxury aspect.”

  “Whatever, Sarah. You and I both know that sex sells. Your face won’t be in it. People won’t even know it’s you.”

  Shit. I hate it when she’s right. “Alright then, let’s do this. @LuxeOnLex is born.”

  Chapter 4


  Jake

  I quickly learned that the P&B Monday after-work drinks is the place to get all the office gossip. Knowledge is power and I need all the power I can get. As a newcomer who already has two coworkers against me — since Sarah’s little friend Amanda is firmly aligned with her — it’s imperative.

  I’d gone to the Monday drinks last week hoping to get a glimpse of Sarah and maybe a chance to talk to her in an out-of-office setting. I wanted to set the record straight about a few of the nasty things she’d said to me. But no such luck: She didn’t show up of course. She was probably working late.

  Today I could care less if she’s at the “Monday Motivation” drinks or not. She spent all of last week basically ignoring me. The few times she was forced to interact with me, she was so frosty I could feel my balls shrivel. Better to just keep out of her way and focus on building positive relationships elsewhere at P&B.

  Like with Lydia Bowers. This girl is every bit as vapid, smug, and downright awful as she’s rumored to be. But she’s clearly got connections to all the higher-ups and to the big-name clients. So I’m determined to get into her good graces.

  And dare I say, I think I’m succeeding. “I love this color on you,” I lightly brush the silk shawl she has wrapped around her neck. In reality, it’s awful.

  “Oh thanks,” she giggles and strokes the material, “It’s Chanel.”

  “Very nice.” I smile while sighing internally. I know it’s Chanel, Lydia. Garish giant C’s are printed all over it so there can be no doubt as to the brand. She might as well walk into the room and scream “I’M A RICH GIRL!” at us all.

  “So how are you liking New York so far?” She asks, twirling one end of the shawl in her hand.

  “It’s a great city,” I tell her honestly. “I love the vibe. It’s more energetic than Chicago.”

  “Really? A lot of people come here and hate it because it’s too crazy for them. I mean I’m a born-and-raised New Yorker — upper West Side — so I’m used to it.”

  “I guess after spending some time in the army, even a big city like New York feels calm.”

  Her eyes widen. “I didn’t know you served.”

  “Yeah, before I joined P&B Chicago. That was my first gig back in the real world after rehab.”

  “You were injured?” Her eyes grow even wider.

  “My leg. Improvised explosive device — or IED. It’s a long story.”

  “Did you get any medals?” She affects a flirtatious laugh and prods my shoulder playfully

  I eye her calmly. “I did get two medals, yeah. But that’s not why I did what I did that day.”

  “Wow, I’m in the presence of a real life hero,” she coos the words at me. “Would you mind getting me another drink, Mr. Hero?” She thrusts her glass in my face and smiles, her overblown lips straining at the action. We’ve been at the P&B drinks for thirty minutes and she’s already on her third white wine spritzer.

  “Of course, Lydia. Happy to.” I give a little bow as I walk away and head to the bar and she smiles so big, I’m literally afraid her lips might burst. Is that possible? I don’t know enough about lip injections to know.

  “Here you go,” I deliver Lydia’s drink to her and try to turn the conversation towards more useful material: “So who’s going to make the final decision about that VP of Social Media position? Serena?”

  “Oh no,” she takes a sip. “It will be the full team of presidents. Serena will give them her input but they will have to agree. So that’s like…” She furrows her brow, thinking. Or at least she tries to. I think she’s got too much Botox in the forehead to make an actual line: “five people?” She holds up her hand to show me. Did she just count this on her fingers?

  “Okay, got it. And your grandfather is one of those?”

  “Yes, granddad still oversees everything at P&B. He’s very involved.”

  “Cool, it must be fun to be part of a family business like that.” That explains how she’s still getting all the big accounts at P&B. Having spent the last week talking to Lydia here and there at the office, I know for a fact that she can’t be landing these gigs on her own merits.

  “Oh, it’s okay. I think it’s all pretty boring stuff actually.”

  “Then why don’t you do something you like?”

  “I don’t really know what I would want to do.”

  “Well, what do you enjoy doing in your spare time when you don’t have to work?”

  “Shopping,” she giggles. “And going to the Hamptons”

  I’m starting to think the rumors about her don’t even do her justice. She’s even worse than they say. I try to look attentive while she rattles on about her family’s fancy Hamptons House.

  “… You have to come next summer! It’s so gorgeous. And my parents do an amazing Fourth of July party and I’m sure they would just adore you.”

  “Don’t make me blush.” I try to brush her off with humor. I’m actually starting to feel bad. This girl clearly just wants some attention and affection. But I’m definitely not the guy to give it to her. As pretty as she is, her personality is just a boner-killer. I get excited for girls with passion and drive. Girls like…

  “Sarah!” I can’t help exclaiming as I see her and Amanda walking into the bar. She hears me and stares daggers at me, then retreats to the far end of the bar. But I’m not letting her get off that easy today.

  “Lydia,” I turn to her. She’s so self-involved she’s barely noticed my utter lack of attention and is still babbling on about… Some new Burberry coat? I don’t know how we got from the Hamptons to Burberry. “Lydia!” I try again.

  “Yes?” she pauses in her monologue, looking at me with slight confusion.

  “I’m just going to step away for a moment, I need to have a word with a colleague.”

  “Oh sure! I’m fine right here.” She sips happily on her white wine spritzer. “Don’t stay away too long though,” she winks.

  “How could I?” I walk away quickly. I’ll have to be more careful with Lydia. She could definitely be a bunny boiler in the making.

  “Hey ladies,” I walk to the small corner table where Sarah and Amanda have tucked themselves away. “How’s everyone doing?”

  “Fine, thanks,” Amanda speaks.

  “Did you create your Insta handle yet?” Sarah skips over the formalities and gets straight to business.

  “Feeling out the competition, huh?” I give her a sly grin.

  “No competition, I’m sure. Just curious.”

  “Well, I sure did. I stopped by Serena’s office before leaving today.”

  “What’s your handle?” Amanda already has her phone out to check Insta.

  “@Jake_And_Pepper”

  “Pepper?” The girls speak in unison yet again. This is seriously getting concerning. Do they practice this trick in private?

  “My dog.” I smile confidently. “Actually he’s still a puppy.” Advertising research has pegged photos of puppies and kittens as among the most popular on Instagram. I’m sure to get loads of likes and comments with this account.

  “Shrewd move,” Sarah eyes me warily. “A puppy is sure to be a hit.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Just don’t let Lydia distract you,” Amanda interjects, nodding towards the bar where Lydia has by now drained her glass and is looking around — undoubtedly trying to find me so I can refill it for her.

  “She does seem to have taken a liking to you,” Sarah shoots me a saucy smile. “Enjoying the conversations about shopping and the Hamptons?”

  “Just trying to be friendly,” I shrug. “And you know,” I eye Sarah, “I’ve always had a thing for blondes.”

  Sarah’s ears turn that familiar shade of pink again, standing out vibrantly against her shining blonde hair.

  “Maybe you should spend less time trying to flirt your way to the top and more time actually working.” Amanda steps in. She gestures towards her phone: “You haven’t even posted a pic to your new Insta account yet.”


  “And you have?!” I look at Sarah in surprise. She smiles smugly. She’s always one step ahead of me. She always has been.

  “Sure,” Sarah replies. “You can see for yourself. Check out @LuxeOnLex.”

  I grab my phone and take a peek. The photo is perfect. A golden gleaming LV logo bracelet is shown in the forefront — but my eyes are drawn more to the background, where some familiar cleavage is on display.

  “Nice… ahem. Bracelet.” I look directly at Sarah and meet her steely gaze — is it me, or is she blushing slightly? — before running my eyes down over her body.

  “Thanks, it’s mine. The pic is of me,” Amanda shows me her wrist with the telltale bracelet.

  “No it’s not,” I tell her, smiling.

  “Yes it is!” The girls pipe up like a choir, in perfect unison yet again. Yikes. Well, it won’t take me long to shut this lie down. “Sorry, Amanda, but I know for a fact that that isn’t you. See this little mole here,” I point to it in the picture. “Let’s just say it’s not the first time I’ve seen it.” I settle my stare on Sarah. Okay, now she’s definitely blushing.

  “Anyway @LuxeOnLex already has 527 followers and that picture already has 972 likes,” Sarah answers defensively.

  “True.” I have to acknowledge that.

  “And your account has…” Amanda looks at her phone. “12 followers. Who are probably all family. And no photos posted. So zero likes.”

  “I can’t argue with that, ladies. Looks like I better get to it.”

  “Especially if you want to get a pic posted before P&B announces the competition at 6:00 p.m.” Sarah taunts me lightly but she’s smiling. In fact, she’s radiant. Her competitive juices are clearly flowing and she’s thrilled to be in the lead right out of the gate. It would be annoying but she looks so happy — and I can’t fault her for getting the jump on me by posting a picture. Stupid move on my part.

  “Well then, I wish you ladies a lovely evening. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me. I’m sure this photo of yours will continue to rack up followers.” I wink, give a nod towards Sarah’s chest, and walk away before they can say anything else. Cheesy pun but such an easy dig — I had to take it.