The world burned overnight. Not literally, but close enough. My phone was melting, my inbox was on fire, and every news outlet from New York to Tokyo had a version of my name in the headline. FOX'S GIRLFRIEND SCANDAL. HOTEL SUITE SECRETS. THE WOMAN WHO BROKE THE BILLIONAIRE. It was like someone had taken my life, wrung it out, and hung the mess to dry in public. I hadn't even finished my first cup of coffee before HR called. "Jill," said the voice on the other end, tight and polite, "we need to discuss your continued association with Mr. Fox." Continued association. Like I was a contagious disease.
By the time I made it downstairs, reporters had already found the building. They were swarming the street like flies with microphones. "Jill! Over here!" "Did you sleep with him before or a
