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The sun’srays dance through the curtains, as my eyes slowly blink open and the room comes into focus. I can still smell her, the girl I found last night. Rolling over, I reach out an arm, only to find an empty bed.
Pushing up on my elbow, I look to the floor where I know her clothes were left in a pile. They’re gone too. So are her shoes and her bag.
My body falls back on the mattress as I drape and arm over my eyes. She fucking snuck out.
God damn it, I really wanted to have her again this morning.
THREE
Irush from the bus to the building I’m meant to be starting at today. I’m not late, but it’s my first day and I’d like to be at least ten minutes early.
I’ve worked in many law firms over the past few years, but this one—Christianson, Miller, and Warner—is the firm of all firms in Melbourne. The most coveted position to score amongst anyone in the law industry.
I’m not usually this frazzled when it comes to work, but this isn’t just a new job. It’s adreamjob, working for the best family attorney in the state, probably the country. Alistair Warner. I’ve heard so many stories about the man. I’ve never actually seen or met him though.
I’ve only been interested in family law for the past six months. Ever since I was left at the altar, I’ve wanted to help other people who were jiltedafterit was too late. Divorce isn’t a pretty thing, but it is a reality and happens more often than not these days.
Even knowing this, I’d still take a risk on love, given the chance. I’d never plan another big wedding though. I’d just sign the papers at the courthouse. Something quiet. I will never put myself in the position to be humiliated like that again.
I do want to be loved. And I know marriage can work. All I have to do is look at my parents. Rhonda and John Hutchinson. My mum and dad are everything true love should be. Devoted to each other like nothing I’ve seen in any other relationship.
I thought I had that with Hunter. Obviously I didn’t.
My phone vibrates in my bag. I pull it out to see my group chat with the girls popping off with notifications.
Daisy:
Good luck today. Meet at mine after work for debrief.
Eloise:
Good luck today. Not that you need it, because you’re fucking awesome and pretty. Also, I need deets on the hottie from last night.
Clair:
Good luck. I second Eloise. Deets, ASAP!!!
I smile. I love these girls so damn much. Although I don’t think I’ll be parting with the details of last night anytime soon. I’m doing my best not to recall them myself. Because when I do, I can still feel the ghost of his lips on my skin. Whoever he is. I can’t believe I went home with a guy and didn’t even get a name. I don’t regret it. I mean, how could you regret having the best sex of your life? My vagina is still sore from our little escapade.
I should have gotten his name. Maybe a second round in the sack (so to speak) wouldn’t have been such a bad idea…
No. There can’t be a second round. That’s not how one-night stands work. And that’s all my tall, handsome stranger was. A one-time thing I doubt I will ever find the likes of again.
His crystal-blue eyes… tanned, sculpted upon sculpted skin… and sandy-brown hair make up an image I won’t soon forget. At least I have material for my vibe time now. And let’s not forget his commanding persona. I’ve never been more turned on by being ordered around in my life. I honestly don’t even understand my reaction to the man.Thatand the fact I’m starting a new job today are the exact reasons I left his apartment at three in the morning without waking him. My first walk of shame was done under the coat of darkness. Also, I didn’t feel any shame in what I did. So there’s that.
I tap out a quick reply to the girls.
Me:
Thanks. Gotta go in. Chat later. Love you all. XX
I drop my phone back into my bag and push my way into the foyer of the building, smiling politely at the security guard standing off to the side. Then head for the bank of elevators. The instructions in the email said to go straight up to the fortieth floor. Once I’m in the lift, it’s no surprise that I’m headed to the top.
The ride up is quiet. There’s no elevator music. Nothing but my racing heart. I wipe my hands on my skirt while checking my reflection in the mirror. I picked out my best work outfit for today. A pale-blue blouse, a cream pencil skirt, and a navy blazer. I finished off the look with a pair of black Manolos that broke my bank account for two whole weeks. I smile when I glance down at the shoes.
Worth it.Shoes, wine, and pizza are my three vices.
The doors open and I step out into a reception area. The words Christianson, Miller, and Warner are sprawled across the white walls in big gold letters.
