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Stepbrother Catfish
Chapter One
It’s ten minutes ‘til five o’ clock and I am so done with work. I’ve got a hot date tonight with a smokin’ hot guy and I can’t wait to blow this joint.
I’m currently an office support assistant for my stepfather’s accounting firm. Office support assistant is just a fancy way of saying I do all the filing.
It’s mind-numbing work and it takes all day. I spend the first half of my day just sorting and the second half actually filing it all away.
Today I’ve worked extra fast knowing that at five o’clock I would be meeting my soul mate. The guy I’ve been talking to through texts and over the internet for the past six months. I’ve filed like no girl has filed before. I know I must have set a record or something. I finished early.
For the past twenty minutes, I’ve been hanging out in the office, fidgeting, spinning in my chair, and watching the seconds on the clock tick by. I’m hiding.
Maybe I shouldn’t have filed so fast.
There is no ditching out early. If my jerk of a stepbrother, Andrew, doesn’t catch me in the act, no doubt he’ll see it on my time card and rat me out to his father. The last thing I need is my stepfather, Jack, coming down on me.
Andrew doesn’t like me and he’s always had it out for me. We’re as opposite as two can be.
I’ve always been shy and awkward. I haven’t felt comfortable in my body since puberty. I probably sound bitter saying this but for him, unlike the rest of us lesser mortals, it all seems to come naturally. He always has his blonde hair styled in the perfect cut for his too handsome face. If he’s not wearing the current trend, he’s probably setting it. He has the looks and body of a male fashion model.
I hate him. I wish I was like him.
I know for a fact he only works out like twice a week yet somehow he manages to retain the ripped, muscled hard body of a Greek god.
I can work out every day and leave my blood, sweat, and tears on the treadmill just to keep the brownie from sticking to me. Alright, it was really two brownies, but anyway… Andrew works out and he’s got not only a six pack but an ass to die for.
And I’m pretty sure he wears a size smaller pants than me. Which used to depress me, until I met AJ.
Well, AJ and I haven’t met yet, technically, but we will once the damn clock hits five thirty.
Come on, I urge the clock. Move.
It’s five minutes to five now and I swear time is slowing down. I just can’t wait to meet AJ. I can’t wait to get out of this place. I’m not only incredibly excited, but I’m incredibly nervous that something is going to keep tonight from happening. I have this feeling like it’s too good to be true, and the universe is just waiting for the perfect moment to bitch slap me.
Please, universe, please. Just this one night. I’ll do anything. I just need this one night, please.
I check my phone. Check to see if there are any messages from AJ. He could still cancel. It’s not too late.
