Emily braved a gander in the bathroom mirror. Her matted hair and pasty complexion suggested that six days submerged in down and dog breath was not going to secure her a page in People Magazine’s 50 Most Beautiful any time soon. While a bottle of fancy shampoo, a box of cheap highlights and a visit to the Clinique counter could take care of her image to the outside world, it was what one couldn’t see that mattered most. Her shattered heart lay in chards somewhere in the base of her belly, forbidding her an appetite and ensuring she’d be in her skinny jeans by the weekend. The same jeans that had spawned Eric’s lust-laden attraction to her in a smoky bar only weeks before. An attraction so fickle and flimsy that it would be whisked away by the hussy in 3D with the Lululemon opaque leggings and blinding white teeth.

Eric and Emily – it rolled off the tongue like chips and salsa. Until it didn’t. Until he left her alone to drown in cheap wine, tears and Max’s Labra-drool. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with oxygen and her soul with ambition. It was Tuesday and time to get with the land of the living— Eric be damned. Besides, she was suddenly very, very hungry.