Free Your Big Break by Johanna Edwards Page A

it would be helpful.”
    â€œBecause I’m not sure if I want to.”
    I put down my notepad. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. Trust me, whatever you have to say, I’m sure I’ve heard worse.”
    â€œI bet you haven’t,” she counters, narrowing her eyes at me. I get the sense she’s challenging me.
    I think it over, trying to come up with the most humiliating situation I’ve dealt with in the recent past. “Did he fall in love with a man?” I ask.
    â€œGod, no!”
    â€œAre you leaving him for his brother?”
    â€œNo.” She folds her arms across her chest and gives me a smug smile. “I want to dump him because last week he quit his job to become . . .” She pauses dramatically.
    â€œA garbage collector?” I can’t resist. “A male stripper?”
    Erin rolls her eyes. “When we started dating two years ago, Brady was a successful corporate attorney. Now he’s a high-school English teacher! Apparently, being an English teacher is his life’s dream.”
    â€œSo he quit being an attorney to follow his dream?” I ask.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd this bothers you because . . . ?”
    â€œI do not date high-school teachers,” she says matter-of-factly. “I date physicians, lawyers, investment bankers.”
    â€œI see.”
    She leans forward and lowers her voice. “I’m not going to waste a pair of tits like these”—she points to her chest for emphasis—“on some goddamned civil servant who makes less than forty grand a year!”
    I stare at her, dumbfounded. How do you follow up a statement like that? “It’s certainly your prerogative,” I finally say.
    â€œYes, it is. Now, are you going to Brady’s poetry workshop tonight?” Erin asks.
    I check my schedule and confirm that I’m free—kind of sad, considering it’s such short notice. Maybe my mom is right. Maybe I don’t get out enough . “I’ll pop in, see if I can catch him,” I promise her.
    â€œLightning efficiency.” She smiles. “I like that!”
    I turn his photo over in my hands. “He’s a good-looking guy,” I tell her. With his dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes, Brady is definitely attractive. I’m surprised she’s letting him go. “How old is he?” I ask.
    â€œThirty-one. I spent two years training the idiot, and look what he does.”
    â€œTraining?”
    â€œMen are like blank slates,” Erin continues. “Or dogs. However you prefer it.”
    â€œLet’s go with blank slates.”
    â€œI taught Brady everything he knows about pleasing a woman. I practically drew him a map of the female body, taught him what I like and how I like it.”
    This is more information than I need. “Do you want me to give him a kiss-off letter tonight, too?” I ask, changing the subject. “It’s short notice, but we should be able to bang something out.”
    â€œDoes that cost extra?”
    â€œNo, it’s included in the price.”
    â€œFantastic!” Erin rises from her chair. “Let me know how it goes.”
    â€œYou don’t want to collaborate with me on what goes in the letter?”
    â€œNo. You can tell Brady whatever you like. I honestly don’t care.”
    With that, she leaves. Then my phone rings—it’s Beverly, our receptionist. My 3 p.m. appointment is waiting.
    Dear Brady,
    I’m rich, you’re poor. Here’s the door. Any questions?
    Â 
I have to stop goofing around and be serious. But how can I come up with a heartfelt breakup note when Erin’s given me nothing to work with? I mull the situation over and try to reach a decision. I know it’s against everything Your Big Break Inc. stands for, but I’m going with fluff. I take out a clean piece of paper and write.
    Â 
Dear Brady,
    This is a difficult letter to write. I