| Author: | Holly J. Gill | ISBN: | 9781370759149 |
| Publisher: | Holly J. Gill | Publication: | July 24, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Holly J. Gill |
| ISBN: | 9781370759149 |
| Publisher: | Holly J. Gill |
| Publication: | July 24, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
I stared at the mountains of paperwork Vanessa had dumped on my desk yet again. I rolled my eyes and sighed, aware as soon as she’d turned her back on me she’d given a smug grin, pleased to have me buried again. I disliked the woman—no, hated the woman. Her attitude and tone were evil, almost like Cruella De Vil, and her laugh echoed around the room, making me cringe. Each time she gave me those narrowed eyes, she loved it, aware she’d set me up each time. I’d love to slap her into next week. Unfortunately, she was in charge of the floor as the last manager had left his position.
I shared the area with fifteen other desks. Mine was positioned in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, giving an amazing view of London on a good day. The office itself was basic, matching desks and chairs, the walls painted pure white, with the company logo dominating the area: ‘Wrights Enterprises’. The floor was dressed in dark grey tiles, finishing with a drinks and snack machine in the far left corner. All desks were equipped with computers, phones, and adorned with some personal property: photos of family, boyfriends or pets. On my desk was a family portrait taken a few years ago. I missed them greatly. I wished I could travel more to Stevenage to see them, but money was tight.
My colleagues took to their stations to begin another long working day. My computer was on, and I could hear people chattering and laughing.
“Morning. Have you had a good weekend?” Sophie chimed, settling at her desk on my right.
“Yeah,” I lied. It was another one spent in the local café trying to do essays. “And yours?”
“It was okay, I guess…me and Ethan fell out—again.”
“Oh, again?” I said, turning my head to look at her. They were always falling out over something or nothing. “What was it this time?”
“His best mate. He keeps coming around, bad moments, seems to think our place is his second home. It’s driving me mad,” she growled.
“Why’s he doing that?”
“Because he’s a dickhead and thinks he can, but Ethan never stops him…it’s getting beyond a joke…Men.”
“Men,” I agreed. Jealously washed over me, wishing I had a man or at least a soul mate to burden me.
“Yeah…I wouldn’t mind, but he almost caught us with our pants down, and Ethan wouldn’t ignore the door…so I missed out, yet again.”
I raised my eyebrows, thinking about the last time I had been in that predicament…yesterday! Only I was the one at the door, and my housemate had her knickers wrapped around her ankles. Again. With another man.
“Good morning, sweethearts, and, how are we on this fine British weather day? For God’s sake, when is it going to stop raining?”
.
I stared at the mountains of paperwork Vanessa had dumped on my desk yet again. I rolled my eyes and sighed, aware as soon as she’d turned her back on me she’d given a smug grin, pleased to have me buried again. I disliked the woman—no, hated the woman. Her attitude and tone were evil, almost like Cruella De Vil, and her laugh echoed around the room, making me cringe. Each time she gave me those narrowed eyes, she loved it, aware she’d set me up each time. I’d love to slap her into next week. Unfortunately, she was in charge of the floor as the last manager had left his position.
I shared the area with fifteen other desks. Mine was positioned in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, giving an amazing view of London on a good day. The office itself was basic, matching desks and chairs, the walls painted pure white, with the company logo dominating the area: ‘Wrights Enterprises’. The floor was dressed in dark grey tiles, finishing with a drinks and snack machine in the far left corner. All desks were equipped with computers, phones, and adorned with some personal property: photos of family, boyfriends or pets. On my desk was a family portrait taken a few years ago. I missed them greatly. I wished I could travel more to Stevenage to see them, but money was tight.
My colleagues took to their stations to begin another long working day. My computer was on, and I could hear people chattering and laughing.
“Morning. Have you had a good weekend?” Sophie chimed, settling at her desk on my right.
“Yeah,” I lied. It was another one spent in the local café trying to do essays. “And yours?”
“It was okay, I guess…me and Ethan fell out—again.”
“Oh, again?” I said, turning my head to look at her. They were always falling out over something or nothing. “What was it this time?”
“His best mate. He keeps coming around, bad moments, seems to think our place is his second home. It’s driving me mad,” she growled.
“Why’s he doing that?”
“Because he’s a dickhead and thinks he can, but Ethan never stops him…it’s getting beyond a joke…Men.”
“Men,” I agreed. Jealously washed over me, wishing I had a man or at least a soul mate to burden me.
“Yeah…I wouldn’t mind, but he almost caught us with our pants down, and Ethan wouldn’t ignore the door…so I missed out, yet again.”
I raised my eyebrows, thinking about the last time I had been in that predicament…yesterday! Only I was the one at the door, and my housemate had her knickers wrapped around her ankles. Again. With another man.
“Good morning, sweethearts, and, how are we on this fine British weather day? For God’s sake, when is it going to stop raining?”
.
