AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I get a text from someone on my team:
Have a cold. Not coming in today. Sorry!
My blood pressure starts to skyrocket. I feel my body brace for another pump of adrenaline. I'm two seconds away from just firing her. I swear I'm going to fire my entire team.
That's when I get knocked off my high chair.
Before I can react, I walk straight into a homeless man, whom, in turn, crashes into another man. A domino effect is created, and that second individual spills all of his iced coffee onto my new pantsuit.
It would be comical if it didn't happen to me.
In one instant, all of the power I want to exude is taken from me. I look weak; I'm on the dirty sidewalk, howling in pain from the bruise that is now forming on my ass.
As I pathetically try to scrape the coffee off of the fabric, I only force the stain in more.
My muscles tense up to an unnatural degree. I feel the urge to lunge, to cause a massive scene. I look up and see the tiresome image of that angelic statue, our patron saint of the stock market.
I just lose it.
Scream into the air like I'm some banshee.
Right now, I'm the definition of "Let me talk to your manager!"
I know I don't have any right to behave this way. Believe me, I know.
I know how ugly I look. If this was a book, the reader would probably want to toss me out to the wolves. I wouldn't blame them for it.
Really, I wouldn't.
I don't have a Jiminy Cricke
t to stop me. There's no tiny devil or angel on my shoulders. There are only the two men in front of me, and I pick the man I ran into to yell at.
"Are you blind? People are walking here," I say.
The homeless man stutters, looks down, and falls into a deep confusion. He looks like he just woke up from a bender. "I was just leaving."
I don't stare too long because I'm an obvious wreck, but he actually looks handsome.
Like, actually really hot.
Okay, I'm officially too tired.
The other guy holds his empty cup of iced coffee. He's still in shock. "Ma'am, are you okay?"
"Leave," I scowl.
He does.
I ask the homeless man what his name is.
"Ash," he says. "Ash Crowley."
I get one good look at the man and nod my head. Be nice, Raven.
I cool down and reach into my pocket, fingers fumbling against a few coins. I pull out what has to be around a dollar-fifty, and I offer it to him.
He looks me dead in the eyes and swallows hard. Too hard for me to be comfortable about it.
