AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m back in the cute shorts and heels, free-falling through clouds spun with warm sun. I land on my feet in a room where light pours in through a wall of windows.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I don’t need your help, Miss Bristol.” he says coldly. “You’ve worn out your welcome.”
A pool appears. I pick up a foam noodle and whack him into the water. He turns into a blue dolphin and swims away from me.
Um, weird.
Then I’m back in my red convertible, driving through a dark tunnel.
No, not just any tunnel, a barely lit hospital hallway.
Mag stands between me and the elevator.
“Sabrina. Go,” he snarls, two fatal words I’ll never forget.
My heel breaks when I try to launch toward him. I stumble, catching myself in a crouch on the ground. When I look up, he’s replaced by a stalking lion, which looks like it wants to tear me to pieces.
“No!” I scream, jerking up.
I breathe slowly, deeply, fitfully.
Seriously.
Screw dreaming.
But I don’t need a date with a dream interpreter to make sense of that mess. The pattern is clear.
Mag oversteps, overreaches, hurts me, and then he runs away.
This isn’t the first warning from the universe, either. The same day Paige warned me, a black cat stared me down in front of the office. It wasn’t bad luck.
It was an omen, and I ignored it.
“Please be wrong,” I pray, grabbing my phone.
No calls. No voicemails. No texts. No emails.
He just doesn’t care. Or else he’s walled in, beating himself up over Jordan, or maybe assembling a crack team of lawyers and former SEALs to rescue the poor boy.
Still. Not even a single freaking text?
A dark voice in the back of my head says, you’re out, and he’s not letting you back in. How long are you going to wait around?
But I’m not this time. I can’t.
I don’t even care if I get a termination notice. I can’t deal with that man again.
I need an exit plan.
Sighing, I retrieve my laptop and check my bank account. In roughly six months at HeronComm, I’ve banked almost forty thousand dollars after taxes and living expenses.
So maybe I can keep myself and my parents afloat for a while.
On a whim, I check Mag’s email and snort.
It’s overflowing rapidly. He’ll never be able to sort it all. Then I open my company email and begin typing.To: Ruby Hunting, HR Director.
From: Sabrina Bristol
Subject: Down and OutHi Ruby,Due to unforeseeable changes in my situation, I need to use my vacation days. All of them.
If you’re unable to fulfill this request, then I’ll put in my notice immediately and expect to be paid out for all remaining vacation days per the employee handbook.
Have a good day.Sabrina Bristol
Executive Assistant to Magnus Heron, HeronComm Inc.I don’t care if I get a response.
I’ll burn my vacation before I quit, or they can pay me for it later.
I’m not going back, and right now that’s all that matters.
But I’m probably not going to have access to a town car and driver anymore, so I should start looking for a used car. Maybe a red convertible.
Making plans helps manage the heartache, a distraction from the tragic fact that I loved Magnus Heron.
I just wish all the self-empowerment in the world eased things permanently.
Huffing out a breath, I text Armstrong.
Sabrina: Is King Maggot keeping you busy today?
Armstrong: Hey, Brina! Not so much. Do you need anything?
For a second, I frown, right before disgust whips through me.
No way.
I’m not going to let myself worry over Armstrong sounding like he hasn’t seen Mag today.
Sabrina: Any chance you could give me a ride to a car lot on the south side and maybe help me haggle? I’m thinking about new wheels.
Armstrong: Heck yeah! I spend enough time on the road to know a thing or two about what’s good. Be right over.
I have to make a forty-minute trip in a car that smells like Mag, but I save cab fare and don’t have to deal with the bus.
It’s kind of incredible how fast it comes together.
Armstrong argues the salesman down to eight thousand dollars like a pro, and suddenly I’m the proud owner of a shiny red convertible that seems like it was just waiting for me.
My first real car. A lifeline to escape the city if I can’t get a lid back on my nerves.
When it’s over, I grin at Armstrong. “Thank you so much. I owe you.”
“Nah, she’s a beauty,” he says, beaming back a grin. “I’m happy for you, lady. Where are you driving her first?”
“My parents’ place. I usually have to take a cab or bum a ride. It takes forever by bus.”
“Have fun.” He gives me a thumbs-up and starts climbing back in the town car. “Hope this takes the edge off...well, you know.”
I smile bitterly as he gives me an apologetic look.
Oh, I know. And it’s not his fault.
