Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
As far as my accomplishments, I could list them on three fingers: One, not murdering my boss. Two, not assaulting or beheading my boss. Three, keeping the same job for over six years and…not killing my boss.
That has to count for something.
“Now approaching The Cold Hearted Creamery at Pike Place,” the tram’s speaker suddenly declared. “Please approach the doors if this is your final destination and have a great day!”
Standing, I stuffed the magazines into my purse and headed toward the doors.
When they opened, I took my time walking down the sidewalk, inhaling the sweet scent of freshly baked waffles and homemade ice cream.
Like a tourist, I snapped pictures of the pastel pink and mint chairs that stood outside the building. Then I read the neon “Try me” signs that clung to the building’s white bricks, as if I hadn’t read them a million times before.
Instead of typical titles like ‘Birthday Cake,’ ‘Rocky Road,’ or ‘Chocolate Mountain,’ Madison’s flavors boasted far more memorable names like ‘Pineapple Depressed,’ ‘Don’t Call Him Again Mint,’ and ‘Berry Best Sex I’ve Ever Had.’ There was also ‘Fuck Me Daddy (Issues),’ ‘Peaches and (Truffle) ‘Cream,’ and ‘BDS-yuMMM’ but she only showed those at night.
Snapping one last picture, I pushed the doors open, and a loud hissing sound filled the room. Then gallons of pink and gold glitter fell all over me.
What the hell?
“Happy early fucking birthdayyyy, Chloe!” Madison and Kristin screamed at the top of their lungs. “We effin loveeee you!”
Huh? I looked around the shop, noticing that my name shone in neon lights on the back wall. A huge stack of beautifully wrapped presents stood on top of the counter, and there were bright words etched onto the windows.
“You’ve accomplished so much before turning 30!
You’re practically the CEO of that publishing company and you (& everyone else) knows it! <3”
“I think she’s about to cry, Madison,” Kristin whispered. “Should we comfort her?”
“I don’t think so.” Madison shook her head. “She looks like she’s still in her ‘I’m turning thirty tomorrow and I haven’t done anything with my life’ mood. We can’t let that type of negative energy get near us.”
I laughed, and they pulled me into a long embrace.
“Thank you.” Tears pricked my eyes. “Thank you both so much.”
“You’re so welcome.” They let me go and handed me the one thing they gave me every year. A shiny silver envelope that held the first clue to an “Epic Birthday Scavenger Hunt.” A tradition my parents started before passing away, and one these two refused to let die.
“Here you go.” Kristin handed me a bright pink box. “Open mine first.”
I tore into the gift like a child at Christmas, freezing at the sight of the Chanel logo.
“Go on,” she said. “Open the rest of it.”
I gently lifted the top, feeling my heart flip once I saw the authentic version of a knockoff dress that hung in my closet. Coral pink with hand-sewn glitter sequins, it was a thigh-length, low-cut dress with a long slit on its left side.
“I can’t accept this from you.” I shook my head. “Doesn’t this cost like eighteen hundred dollars?”
“I can afford it, trust me.” She kissed my cheek. “Plus, you can’t go into your thirties wearing knockoffs. Those days need to be over.”
I hugged the fabric against my chest, and Madison set a different box next to me.
“I bought you the matching butterfly stilettos,” she said. “Please get rid of your cheap ones that look like moths now. I’ll have to disown you if you wear them again.”
I snorted and admired the craftsmanship on the soles.
“You’re getting a much-needed blowout at the shop next door before your scavenger hunt, too,” Kristin said. “That emergency procedure is also on me.”
“That doesn’t sound like a birthday gift.” I narrowed my eyes. “Sounds more like shade, like you and Madison are talking shit behind my back.”
“We say it in front of your face, too.” She laughed, picking up a vanilla cone. “You’ve needed to get your hair professionally done for months.”
“Months.” Madison confirmed.
“Thanks.” I gave them both the middle finger, and suddenly, the worst ringtone in the world sounded in my purse.
Ugh. You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Yes, Miss Swift?” I answered out of habit.
“I need you to come to my condo and help me right now!” She cried. “Please! This is a 9-1-1 level emergency, and I think I’m about to die.”
“Shouldn’t you call the real 9-1-1 then?”
“Hell no. No one else can ever know about this,” she said. “I’ve sent Bennie to your friend’s little ice cream shop to get you. Hurry up and get here before it’s too late.”
She ended the call, and I resisted the urge to scream.
“Welp, it was nice while it lasted.” Kristin patted my back. “We made this scavenger hunt our best one to date. Your parents would be proud.”