Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
I lean back in my chair and pick up my bag from the floor. I need to get out of here. Now that the house is officially mine, I want to go there and really look around without someone watching my every move. Maybe I’ll even stop at Target, pick up one of those inflatable mattresses and some necessities, and sleep there tonight instead of in the hotel room I’ve been in for the last week. Something my parents have not been happy about. At first, they pretended to be understanding about my need for space, but over the last couple of days, their displeasure has been vocalized through daily phone calls. They have always had a certain image to uphold, and with their only child being in town and not staying with them, they are feeling the heat and I’m sure dodging questions from their so-called friends.
But for once in my life, I don’t care, and surprisingly, I feel no guilt. For the last twenty-six years of my life, I’ve done what was expected of me. Before I left home, I did everything in my power to keep up the image of the perfect girl, and after I left, I still did the things I was supposed to. I went to college, got a job, and married a man I knew my parents would approve of. None of that ever made me happy, so when I signed my divorce papers, I made a promise to myself to start living life on my own terms. I will no longer accept things just because I should, and I will never again put someone else’s happiness before my own.
This is my life, and I’m choosing to live it exactly how I want.
On that thought, I stand and glance between the two women in the room. “Thank you both. If you need anything, you can call my cell.” I look down at Sara. “I’d really appreciate your construction contact. Can you email it to me?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.” I heft my purse up onto my shoulder, leave the office, and head for my car. After that, I go to the hotel and check out then to Target before heading to my new home.
Chapter 2
Aria
SITTING ON THE burnt orange shag carpeted floor in what will one day be my office, I settle my laptop on my lap then click on my current work-in-progress. I’ve always written paranormal YA, but a story has been talking to me for a while and I’ve decided to finally try to write it. A romantic comedy about two people who find love when their nosey mothers start forcing them into funny situations together.
Just as I start to get swept away in the story and my fingers start flying across the keyboard, I hear an odd sound coming from the kitchen and living room area. I stop typing and turn my head to the open door. I can’t see anything from my position, but the sound seems to be growing louder. I’ve only been in the house one night and part of today, so I haven’t had a chance to memorize all the noises it makes. When I get up and go to the kitchen, I look around, not seeing anything, then move around the half wall into the living room and gasp.
There is water gushing down from the ceiling—not a little, but a lot—and the white sheet rock is melting away, landing on the blue shag carpet. It’s making it look like a glacier is capsizing into the puddle of water growing in the middle of the room. I stare in horror then burst into action.
I run up the stairs to the laundry room, sliding across the linoleum and landing on my hip and elbow. Pain shoots through both areas, but I ignore it and get up, almost falling again as I skid across the wet floor. I manage by the grace of God to get the lid on the washer open and then say a prayer when the water shuts off. Having been in town for a week, I needed clean clothes, and since I finally had a washer and dryer, I decided to do all my laundry. I should have waited.
Breathing heavy, I look around at the mess then head back downstairs. When I see the destruction in the living room, tears begin to fill my eyes. I bought one towel yesterday while I was at Target, because I didn’t see the sense in wasting money when all my stuff will be delivered in just a few days. There’s no way one towel will ever be enough for me to clean up this mess.
I squeeze my eyes closed and allow one single tear to slip through my lashes before I pull in a breath and head for my cell. As promised, Sara sent me the contact info for the construction company yesterday. I didn’t think I’d be contacting them so soon, but now I don’t have a choice. I place the call and am told by an older gentleman that someone will be out as soon as they can. Since all my clothes are now in the bottom of the washer still full of water, I have no choice but to wait for someone to show up, wearing nothing but one of my favorite cotton sleep tank nightgowns without even a bra or underwear. Seriously, this day couldn’t get worse.