Read Online Survival (Twisted Book 1) by Rebecca Sherwin - Free Book Online Page B

up all night circling what I wanted from the Ikea magazine; I hopped in my six hundred pound Ford Fiesta as soon as the clock struck nine, and filled it to the brim with good, cheap Swedish furniture. The tin can was bursting at the seams with accessories for the flat, boxes stacked tightly, bags squashed in the gaps and a curtain pole that slid under my headrest so I had to sit millimetres from the steering wheel. I had no hope of seeing in the rear-view mirror. I had lived in the flat for a week and it finally looked how I wanted it. How Oliver and I had discussed. I had taken the pictures of us from my mother’s room, given them new frames and they lined the walls in every room in the flat. Oliver was moving in with me, just like we had planned. No would else would be there; I had no friends. I changed my number as soon as I figured out where I was going and only gave my new number to Beth. She hadn’t yet called to see where I was living or asked to come and visit. I was alone and I was determined to get used to it. I had already had a year.
    I tried not to think of Curtis, but he met me in my dreams. If we weren’t on a deserted tropical island holding hands and making love, we were in the gym and Oliver was with us. We laughed and joked and none of the past sixteen months had happened. When I woke up, I was quickly reminded that reality was exactly that; the painful realisation that, in fact, I had no one.
    Half an hour moved quickly and I had to rush to be ready. I caught the bus from my ghetto-like suburb and rode it to the city. I went there often, just to surround myself with people and watch them go about their lives. But today I had a mission. I had read and read and read about the company whose building I was about to step into. Poise. A new, yet established women’s magazine. I was the underdog. I had no experience, limited knowledge and nothing to offer; but I had nothing to lose. I had nothing.
    “Can I help you?” The man at reception asked with a wide smile plastered on his face. A smile that would make your face ache, no doubt.
    “I’ve got an interview with Nina Bertolli,” it took everything not to smile whenever I thought about her name. I wondered if she was related to the olive oil family. “I’m Skye Jones.”
    “Nice to meet you, Miss Jones,” he handed me a journal. “Sign in while I get you a card.”
    I filled in the details and swapped him the journal for a visitor’s badge.
    “Eighth floor.”
    “Thank you.”
    I looked back as I pushed the button for the lift to see him massaging his cheeks.
    “Hi,” a little woman with the most flawless mocha skin I’d ever seen greeted me as I stepped out. She was beautiful, with a tiny waist wrapped in a pinstripe pencil skirt.
    “Skye Jones,” I took her proffered hand and she led me through a bare hallway, stark white with polished black doors. She offered me a seat in the waiting room and a glass of water, but I declined.
    “Don’t be nervous. It’s just a casual chat.”
    I took a seat then, feeling deflated. I had done my research; Poise already had half a million subscribers. Whether I worked for Nina Bertolli or not would not be decided during a casual chat. They had already written me off. I transported myself back to Geoff’s Gym all those months ago and sat up straight. I relaxed my shoulders, took a deep breath and gave my fists a quick clench. I was prepared to fight.
    “Miss Jones?” Mocha Lady called from over her computer screen, “Ms Bertolli will see you now.”
    She pointed to a white door at the end of the corridor. I smoothed my dress down and headed for the office. I wore a red dress because it made a statement; I was there to prove a point.
    “Help me, Oliver,” I looked up to the spotlights on the ceiling and prayed to my brother before opening the door. No, I didn’t knock; she knew I was coming.
    “Miss Jones,” Nina stood from her chair and held out her hand as I entered the room.
    I took it