Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
It’s already a New York Times Bestseller, yet I’m still stuck in the weird “what the fuck am I doing?” limbo helping her create it put me in.
Dear Irony…
Fuck. You.
That is all.
All of a sudden, there’s a light knock on my office door that forces me to put on the most professional demeanor possible. “Come in.”
The door cracks open and our school librarian, Jaye Jenkins, peeks her sweet, angelic, brown-skinned face around it. “You busy, boss?” Her fingers nervously grip the door tighter. “It’s okay if you are. I mean you most likely are. You probably have a million things to do to keep the school running so smoothly, which you do! You absolutely do! This is the best place I could ever dream of working! And I know it takes work. A lot of work. You’re probably working, and I’m just eating up time you don’t have. I should go. I can totally come back at the end of the day. It’s not a huge deal! I just was passing by and-”
“How much caffeine have you had today?”
Her nose scrunches as she tries not to laugh.
“Come on in, Jaye,” I politely state on an ushering wave.
She slinks herself inside, fingers fidgeting anxiously with her curly hair. “You sure you don’t mind? I can-”
“What do you need?” Folding my hands politely on top of my desk is followed a warm grin. “What can I do for our beloved librarian?”
“I was just…um….” The combing of the strands grows more frantic, more uneasy. “I was just sort of wondering…,” her voice does its best to find steadiness as her body gravitates closer, “if you got my proposal for the winter charity event yet? I emailed it to you like two weeks ago, but I haven’t heard anything. And I know it’s early – and that it might be too early – but like I didn’t wanna be too late or get lost in a sea of other options, especially because this one is…well, it hits really close to home.”
The nagging reality that I have managed to overlook her email further churns my stomach.
Okay, I admit that staying with Xander wasn’t ideal; however, I never did shit like this when we were together. I was constantly engulfed in work. Ahead of every curve and every event for miles. All non-prescheduled time either went to Katherine or this school.
Now?
I can’t always remember where the fuck I left my favorite pen.
I know my life will get easier and regain its stability soon.
I’m hoping that happens just as soon as I move into my own space.
I mean I’ve already stopped obsessing over the handwritten letter that evidently came from the great magical ghost of boyfriend’s past.
“I’m so sorry, Jaye,” I apologize sincerely. “I haven’t had time just yet. There have been some scheduling changes and employee evaluations and spring student conference issues that-” Rather than unload on her what life is already dumping on me, I simply shift on another professional grin. “I will make time to review your proposal by the end of the week. Does that work for you?”
Her face brightens back up, and the nervous movements cease. “That would be perfect, Miss Morrison!”
Thank fuck I can still get something right.
Jaye opens her mouth to say something else when my cellphone vibrates across the desk reminding me that it’s time to leave for my yearly physical appointment.
Ugh.
Just one more item on the long list of shit that I really don’t have time for.
“I’ll go and let you get that in private.”
I opt out of correcting her and allow my employee to take the easy exit out. “Thank you, Miss Jenkins.”
Jaye dismisses herself on a curt nod, and once the door shuts, I swipe away the alarm reminder.
It’s a simple check up to make sure I’m disease free and that everything is working as it should. I gotta go or she won’t refill my birth control prescription, which seems irrelevant at the moment. Sex – actual sex not just an orgasm to take the stress away – is as far from my brain as marriage is.
That fact hurts.
That fact is just another slap in the face reminder of the pathetic excuse for existing I let myself linger in for far too long.
Do I want marriage?
Well, I cry every time I watch Runaway Bride, so I’m gonna go with yes.
Do I want it soon?
Considering that the cute guy working the bakery counter at the shop next door to the dry cleaners asked me out and my reaction was to pretend I was getting a phone call, I’m gonna have to go with no.
Perhaps dating and everything in that department might feel like more an actual possibility once I’m in my own damn place.
I snatch up my leather work bag, lock up my office door, and head the direction of the employee only area to access the parking lot when Merrick rushes across my path.