Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Mental note to myself: Never consider buying balloons for an office party again.
My eyes strayed from my reflection and I noticed Kimberly walking into the building. I didn’t dare look in her direction again, and for good measure made sure the balloons were providing some cover. If there was someone else other than my dad who I didn’t want to see me, it was my ‘pretty perfect’ sister, who didn’t and couldn’t do any wrong in the eyes of my family. Also, as an added bonus, I wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with her since she’d thought I was a little too friendly with her husband. We didn’t talk if it didn’t involve work stuff and after the things said between us I was more than okay with that.
I checked the time and realized I was a few minutes late, so picked up my stuff and headed towards the elevators after I made sure Kimberly had gone upstairs already.
A few steps in, I bumped into someone, and if he hadn’t caught me, I would’ve been sprawled across the floor. His hands left my arms and I quickly apologized, but couldn’t actually see who I’d walked into thanks to my hands being so full of cake and balloons.
‘No trouble’, he muttered through the balloons – which I must have hit him in the face with.
The voice that answered was rich, deep and amused, which sounded slightly familiar, but I shrugged it off. The amusement was for the balloons, I was sure. Who would’ve thought balloons would be such a surprise to people.
I struggled with the damn cheerful things so I could at least offer an apologetic smile, but the guy was already heading towards the reception desk area in a black suit that fitted him and his broad shoulders pretty perfectly – at least from what I could see. The fit was a very important part of wearing a good suit.
After sighing and giving the guy’s rear view one last appreciative look, I turned with my balloons and walked to the elevators. Making sure the cake box was hiding my chest area – which showed off my lilac bra thanks to the rain – I held it up with the hand that was attached to the balloons and tried to do something with my hair. To save time, I took out the elastic that was holding up half of my heavy hair and messed it up some to make it look at least a little intentional – as if I’d just rushed out of the shower. A shower I’d taken essentially with my clothes on.
The doors opened and before I could take a step forward there was a rush of people coming out. Holding onto everything tighter and very close to my body, I waited until the stampede ended. When I looked up from behind the balloons the elevator was already full.
I closed my eyes to hold in a few choice words. I was not looking forward to see my dad at all. A little worry creeping in, I did a full one-eighty so I could check the clock behind the reception desk and then started worrying a little more earnestly. It was twenty past nine. I was officially late. Unable to stand in place, I was hitting the call button repeatedly when I heard a ping from one of the elevators behind me. Rushing towards it before it could leave without me, I hit someone in the shoulder with my goddamn balloons, apologized several times without looking, as I was still moving, and managed to make it into the steel box safely at last.
Relieved, I reached to press the button for the 20th floor that would take me up to my dad’s firm and my current workplace, Atlas Communications, where I worked as a public relations specialist, but instead grabbed a real, live, big and hairy hand. Several seconds passed as I stood there holding onto a stranger’s finger like an idiot. Someone in the elevator cleared their throat and I let go of the hand.
Leaning forward I met my second victim’s eyes and made an apologetic face. ‘I’m really sorry. I’m having a bad morning,’ I whispered and barely heard the murmur of acceptance.
Grateful for the balloons – for the first time – providing me some privacy and hiding my identity, I tried again, and, seeing the numbers from the corner of my eye, this time successfully hit the right button.
Just when I thought things would look up from that point on, I took a step back. The plan had been to close my eyes, lean my head against the back panel, consider my life choices and just breathe for a minute. The plan did not happen. I walked right into a hard chest and one foot.
Two strong hands clamped onto my waist, I squeaked, my eyes popped open and I did a tiny little jump in place.