Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Dude, where are you? Are you at the Disney store?” I ask him, looking at my watch, seeing it’s almost two p.m.
“I’m in Lauren’s school bus. She didn’t pay my tickets and now my car has been impounded.”
“See Donkey Kong.”
“I don’t have the time nor the patience to deal with you today. Just come and pick me up.” He blows out a long breath. “This fucking song.”
“What is that?” I ask him.
“Who the fuck knows? The CD is stuck inside and this chick is so fucking angry yet she wants to let it go,” he says, his voice rising higher when she belts out Let it Go at the top of her lungs.
“Okay, I’ll swing by at four so we can get to the yard before it closes.”
He doesn’t even say bye. He just disconnects with a string of curse words. I press the button on my desk phone, asking Norma to have a sandwich delivered. She walks in right away with a brown paper bag.
“This was delivered two hours ago by a tall blonde,” she says, coming to the desk and putting it in front of me.
“What?” I get up, going to the door. “Why didn’t you let me know?”
She smiles at me. “She left it with Samantha, the new receptionist.” She walks to me, tapping my shoulder. “She left a note on the bag.” She walks off while I run back to my desk and see the bag.
Hope you have a baa day! And she drew a sheep. I toss my head back and laugh, opening it up. I find another note. I usually don’t buy meat, but I liked holding your meat! Bhahah.
I sit down and take out the hoagie she left. It’s got every single meat you can think of and it’s the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten.
I send her a quick text.
Thanks for holding my meat.
I wait for her to answer but nothing comes through. By the time I finish eating and finalize the file for Sal, I get to Austin’s office with almost no time to spare. Walking down the hall, I notice that most of the people have already left. Must be a quiet day. When I walk into his office, he’s sitting behind his desk with his head in his hands, looking down at his phone.
“Whoa, dude, who killed your dog?” I ask as I throw myself into the chair in front of his desk.
“I fucked up,” he confesses, looking up and then looking back down at his phone.
“Nothing new there. What happened now?”
“I may have told Lauren that if she weren’t so uptight and she loosened up a little, that maybe her husband wouldn’t have left her and she would still be married.” He doesn’t even finish getting the words out before I’m pulling out my phone. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m making sure I clear my schedule for your funeral,” I joke with him, but it only earns me a glare from him.
“Fuck off, asshole. Let’s go get my car, and then I’ll pass by her house. She has no choice but to answer the door, right?” he asks me as we walk out to the elevator.
I see Barbara come out of her office and head straight for us. Her mouth is pressed together in a tight line. Austin cuts off whatever she’s going to say by holding up his hand and stating, “Not now, Barbara.” He presses the elevator button.
“I think my balls just crawled back into my body, and that look wasn’t even directed at me,” I murmur from beside him as we watch Barbara turn and storm away. “If I were you, I wouldn’t drink or eat anything that anyone else, especially someone who is a female or an employee here, offers you,” I advise him as I follow him into the elevator.
We make it down to the impound lot, where I leave Austin to fill out all the forms and show all his documents in order to get his car out.
I walk to a seat where I take my phone out and see I have about fifteen texts from Kaleigh.
I can’t be friends with you anymore. Your best friend is an asshat.
If he’s an asshat, you’re an asshat.
They usually only hang around together.
Like herding asshats.
I can’t believe I held meat for you!!!
Isn’t it ironic????
Why do you have to be a good-looking asshat?
I lied. You aren’t good-looking, you’re ugly.
I hope you get goat herpes.
I’m going to take lessons in Donkey Kong.
It’s ironic… Rain on your wedding day.
Jesus, fuck me. They are listening to Alanis Morissette. “Maybe you should give her the night to calm down.”
“No, I can’t. I need to see her.” He shakes his head, the look of dread filling his face. “I need to at least tell her I’m sorry.” He pushes past me, getting into his car and taking off. I jog to mine and follow him there. Once he parks, I get out before he can open his door.