Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Look, The Little Equipment Manager That Could, right now this shit isn’t about you.” The statement snaps my head over my shoulder. “This shit isn’t about what you did and didn’t do last night or the Spamela Anderson slut you did or not did not accidentally get used by for five minutes of fame or even the unknown status of your romantic relationship in reference to a woman who you serenaded with a Mac Miller song literally right after you said I do.”
Seemed romantic.
It was the best day ever.
“This shit is about her. And being there for her when she needs an assist that she damn sure won’t ask for.”
Finished with covering one skate allows me to turn to her a second time.
“Page is headed up to the office to discuss everything that went wrong last night.”
My head cocks to side in confusion. “What else happened last night, Margot?”
“Wow,” she whistles out in a truly impressed fashion, “she really must’ve shut you out if you don’t know yet.”
“Do you mean won a shut out?” I joke in my best attempt to lighten the dreary mood.
“You really think I—of all people—would actively make a hockey reference like that?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Yes, like Hennington knocked up by one of the Bubble Guppies.” She doesn’t wait for me to snap back at what I imagine to be an age reference jab. “Post your little…whatever that was…last night, you took a Lyft or an Uber home, correct?”
“Yeah. I don’t fuck around when it comes to drinking and driving.”
“It’s good that you don’t because the same can’t be said for some of the other players.”
There’s no stopping my eyebrows from launching to the ceiling.
“Thankfully, Frosky—who did not go to the secondary location with all of you-”
“Because he landed himself a hat trick of the best kind.”
Three blondes.
Back to back to back according to the bragging texts I woke up to.
The corner of her lip twitches a sneer, “Like I was saying, thankfully Frosky didn’t drive anywhere last night. One of the bunnies drove while he had sex with another in the backseat.”
Keepin’ it classy there, Snowman.
“However, Page convinced Somerfield and McVie he was good enough to drive them back here to the barn where their cars were and sideswiped another vehicle on the highway.”
“What?!”
“Somerfield and McVie and the single mom of three who was headed home from her shift as a fucking ER nurse are all still in the hospital. Alive, but we don’t know much else about their conditions at this time. Page—somehow—made it out pretty much unscathed. His BAC was below legal limit-”
“I don’t know fucking how. He had more shots than I did!”
“-and according to the statement he made, he claims that the wreck was her fault. She was the one swerving into his lane, probably too tired to be driving.”
“Fucking, seriously?!” I bark twice as loud this time around. “He fucks up, and it’s somehow some innocent woman’s fault!?”
Margot bobs her head in agreed upon annoyance. “Yeah. And he’s on his way up to talk to Hennington and Blanc now about the situation. He wants her to hear ‘his side’ of everything before they make any crucial decisions while they wanna hear from him to know what legal actions to be braced for.” She clutches the tablet in her possession noticeably tighter. “I can’t be in there due to the sensitive nature of the subject and my position at the company; however, her spouse can as he has privileges to certain information and situations that others don’t.”
Hearing the play loud and clear has me carelessly tossing the skate guard to the side and quickly moving her direction. I manage to make it just three steps past her before I’m turning on my heels to say, “Order her salmon and some sort of Mediterranean kale salad for lunch from that restaurant around the corner. She probably skipped breakfast with all this shit and will be starving by lunch.”
“Will do, but she definitely ate this morning,” Margot informs, mirth swirling around her tone. “I watched her rage inhale three chocolate donuts.”
“Fuck…” I grumble under my breath and continue backing my body away for the exit. “She hydrate?”
“Does hydrate mean having Blanc bring her a giant Mountain Dew Slurpee?”
“Fuckfuckfuck,” pours past my lips prior to me pushing myself to hustle faster.
Getting from our work area near the rink over to the adjacent building is not an easy task, especially since jogging hungover is never fucking fun. On my way, I manage to warmly greet members of security, politely acknowledge some of the janitorial staff—including Norman who has caught us having sex one too many times in her office—and snatch a bottle of cold-water from Amaryllis on the last leg of my journey.
I don’t bother knocking, yet I prepare myself to hear an earful about the shit later.