Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
The elevator doors open, and as soon as I step out, I am instantly attacked by a crazy Marissa, who leaps at me like some kind of insane monkey creature.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” she hisses into my ear.
“What!?”
“You slept with him!” she repeats. I’m glancing around the office like a criminal on the lookout for the cops as I make my way over to my desk. “Didn’t you?”
“What are you, my mom?” I ask, taking a seat. “Do I have to report to you on everything I do now or something?”
A smile breaks out on Marissa’s face – a knowing, pleased-with-herself smile. She wags a finger at me as she leans up against the wall. “I knew it. You just couldn’t stay away!”
“Would you stop?”
“Hey, I don’t blame you,” she laughs. “Look at the guy. He had every gal in the office swooning over him – wanting to sit on his lap and tell them they’d been a naughty girl this year so maybe he’d punish them a bit.”
“Oh my God,” I sigh, rolling my eyes.
“But those were the ones who didn’t have a history with him,” she says. “Who didn’t get stood up and ghosted by the guy. Who don’t know what kind of potential for trouble he truly has.”
“Look, it wasn’t just about the sex, okay?” I whisper, dragging my chair closer to her.
“Uh huh.” She smirks.
“Look, I’m serious! He took me back to the coffee shop and explained everything to me!”
“Everything?” she asks. “And you bought it?”
Something about her tone and the way she asks the question catches me off guard. “Bought it? I didn’t buy it, Rissa. I listened, I processed it, and I asked myself whether it made sense or not.”
This time, it’s Marissa who’s rolling her eyes. “Okay, and did it?”
“Yes.” I nod. “For the most part.”
“For the most part?”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, trying not to think about the five years Craig had where he could have called me but didn’t. So I may still be harboring a bit of resentment toward him about that – so what? It’s not something I want to get into with Marissa about right now. Right now, I have to defend myself!
“You heard me,” I reply, nodding. “You know what else?”
“What?” she asks.
“He paid my back rent. All of it. Without me even asking him for help.”
Marissa nods and smiles. “Ah, so he’s your sugar daddy?”
My jaw drops. “You did not just say that.”
Marissa shrugs. “Hey, if I were you, that’s what I’d keep him as for a while. Until you’re absolutely sure you can trust him not to break your heart.”
“Rissa–”
“Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” she says, coming over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Asshole ex-boyfriends are no fun. You know what is fun? Hanging out with your awesome friend. Me!”
With that, Marissa walks away from my desk and heads off in the direction of her cubicle. At that moment, a thought springs into my mind; what if part of the reason Marissa is trying so hard to convince me not to hang out with Craig is because she likes me being single so I can spend time with her? After all, I did turn down going out with her and some other girls from work just last night. Sure, she’s got the other girls to go with, but Marissa and I are a lot closer than they are. I shake my head. No, I really shouldn’t think something sinister like that about a good friend of mine. She’s just looking out for me I’m sure.
7
DAISY
The work day seems to just crawl by like time has suddenly transformed into the world’s slowest slug. I keep glancing at the clock on my phone, which of course doesn’t help things one bit, hoping the next time I look, it will be time to go.
Despite the fact that we both do everything we can to avoid partaking in any kind of Christmas festivities during December, I need to go check on Mom and make sure she’s all right. Her drinking during the holidays has gotten worse in the last couple of years, and I’m starting to get worried about her.
I don’t know what it is – whether she thinks Dad’s death is her fault, or whether she’s upset about our family not being together like it used to be, or whether it’s just how she handles this time of year like I handle it by avoiding everyone and everything that has anything to do with Christmas, and turning into basically a female Scrooge until the second week of January.
Either way, it’s just another one of my responsibilities now – to go check in on Mom and make sure she hasn’t let herself go too far, to see if she needs me to go pick her up anything from the store, and if things have gotten really bad, to take away some of her alcohol.