doesn't help I'm the only one she ever focuses on.
“Cassie, how nice of you to join us,” she says as I shut the door behind me. She’s dripping with sarcasm so thick that everyone in a four block radius must know she’s displeased. I speed walk past the confused clients and their dogs, and disappear into the back room. I steal a look at the clock in the break area and realize I’m not even late.
Becky walks into the room, her eyebrows knitted and face scowling. I stare into my locker before fishing out my apron and tying it on. “You’re late, again.”
I shake my head and hold my eye to try and stop it from twitching. I’ve gotten good at pretending I just have something in it. “I’m not late.” I finish tying the apron. “It’s ten till eleven.”
“You were scheduled to come in at nine.”
I shut my eyes and try to imagine the schedule I looked at. “I swear...”
Becky slams my locker shut, nearly catching my fingers. “Me too. I can’t keep coming here to clean up your messes. We had three clients waiting at the door this morning and wondering why they were locked.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I begin, and she does a silencing motion with her hand.
“I don’t want to hear it, but I do want you to stay tonight and help get a couple of the dogs home.”
I’m livid, but I try to hide it. I squeeze my eyes shut and open my locker again to put away my bag. While I’m procrastinating, Becky leaves the break room. After she’s well out of ear shot, I slam the locker closed, wanting a little bit of that satisfaction. The gesture feels empty.
Clutching my eye, I go back out into the main room, and put a fake smile on my face.
. . .
I come back home in somewhat of a daze. It’s too close to sunset. The orange light filtering through the drapes makes the living room look frozen in the seventies, with the thin carpet being the only thing keeping it firmly locked in the present.
I call out into the apartment after I drop my purse near the door. “Sara? You here?”
Not a sound stirs the air. The sunlight catches on some dust in the living room, and I stick my tongue out in disgust at how messy it makes the house look. I move to the couch and collapse on it, the smooth fabric sinking enough to make me feel like I’m in quicksand. It’s just cheap.
I kick my feet up onto the coffee table and peel my shoes off, before kneading my sore arches.
Becky worked me hard, and having me corral three dogs up and take them to some 'client’s' house fifteen minutes away was just the perfect topper on it all. It wasn’t that far, but he did try to invite me inside, ugh.Also, the little detour set my drive home back by an hour and a half thanks to all the idiots on the highway.
Thankfully, Sara isn’t here to pity or ignore me. I lean my head back on the couch and close my eyes. The sunlight warms my cheeks, and even though I was whining about how hot it was in the car, it’s somewhat soothing now. A wind kicks up and shakes the trees against the windows again, and the rattling is almost hypnotic.
I’m just about to doze off when someone knocks on the front door. My eyes go wide and I throw myself to my aching feet, padding over to the peephole to take a look. Tall, dark and tattooed is outside, his posture aloof but cocky.
My mind races as my heart does, and my vestige of sleepiness vanishes without a trace. I unlatch the door and open it wide. He throws me a dark grin and steps inside, sidling next to me closer than he needs to. I breath in his scent as I close the door. I feel my insides burn.
He has a familiar look, too. That hungry, yearning look I saw on my face last night. I don’t want to say a word and break the moment, and he doesn’t look like he has any intention to either. He steps forward and scoops me up in his arms, and his lips embrace mine. I feel a shocking electricity vibrate through me, and without a second thought, I close my eyes and curl my arms around his neck. The kiss
“Cassie, how nice of you to join us,” she says as I shut the door behind me. She’s dripping with sarcasm so thick that everyone in a four block radius must know she’s displeased. I speed walk past the confused clients and their dogs, and disappear into the back room. I steal a look at the clock in the break area and realize I’m not even late.
Becky walks into the room, her eyebrows knitted and face scowling. I stare into my locker before fishing out my apron and tying it on. “You’re late, again.”
I shake my head and hold my eye to try and stop it from twitching. I’ve gotten good at pretending I just have something in it. “I’m not late.” I finish tying the apron. “It’s ten till eleven.”
“You were scheduled to come in at nine.”
I shut my eyes and try to imagine the schedule I looked at. “I swear...”
Becky slams my locker shut, nearly catching my fingers. “Me too. I can’t keep coming here to clean up your messes. We had three clients waiting at the door this morning and wondering why they were locked.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I begin, and she does a silencing motion with her hand.
“I don’t want to hear it, but I do want you to stay tonight and help get a couple of the dogs home.”
I’m livid, but I try to hide it. I squeeze my eyes shut and open my locker again to put away my bag. While I’m procrastinating, Becky leaves the break room. After she’s well out of ear shot, I slam the locker closed, wanting a little bit of that satisfaction. The gesture feels empty.
Clutching my eye, I go back out into the main room, and put a fake smile on my face.
. . .
I come back home in somewhat of a daze. It’s too close to sunset. The orange light filtering through the drapes makes the living room look frozen in the seventies, with the thin carpet being the only thing keeping it firmly locked in the present.
I call out into the apartment after I drop my purse near the door. “Sara? You here?”
Not a sound stirs the air. The sunlight catches on some dust in the living room, and I stick my tongue out in disgust at how messy it makes the house look. I move to the couch and collapse on it, the smooth fabric sinking enough to make me feel like I’m in quicksand. It’s just cheap.
I kick my feet up onto the coffee table and peel my shoes off, before kneading my sore arches.
Becky worked me hard, and having me corral three dogs up and take them to some 'client’s' house fifteen minutes away was just the perfect topper on it all. It wasn’t that far, but he did try to invite me inside, ugh.Also, the little detour set my drive home back by an hour and a half thanks to all the idiots on the highway.
Thankfully, Sara isn’t here to pity or ignore me. I lean my head back on the couch and close my eyes. The sunlight warms my cheeks, and even though I was whining about how hot it was in the car, it’s somewhat soothing now. A wind kicks up and shakes the trees against the windows again, and the rattling is almost hypnotic.
I’m just about to doze off when someone knocks on the front door. My eyes go wide and I throw myself to my aching feet, padding over to the peephole to take a look. Tall, dark and tattooed is outside, his posture aloof but cocky.
My mind races as my heart does, and my vestige of sleepiness vanishes without a trace. I unlatch the door and open it wide. He throws me a dark grin and steps inside, sidling next to me closer than he needs to. I breath in his scent as I close the door. I feel my insides burn.
He has a familiar look, too. That hungry, yearning look I saw on my face last night. I don’t want to say a word and break the moment, and he doesn’t look like he has any intention to either. He steps forward and scoops me up in his arms, and his lips embrace mine. I feel a shocking electricity vibrate through me, and without a second thought, I close my eyes and curl my arms around his neck. The kiss
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