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“Yep.”
“Fine, but put the damn ice cream away. This is not an ice cream kind of situation. Sure, it sucks big time, but this is not deadly.”
“Kate,” I deadpan her. “This was my dream job. This is deadly dead. I didn’t just lose Fashion Linc. I lost journalism overall.” I drop down on the couch and pick up my bowl of ice cream again.
“Oh, stop it. I’m sure any magazine in the country will hire you. Lexi, you have a talent.”
“Nope,” I say with a pop sound on my letter p. “The evil incarnate said he would block my path onto every house, and I believe him.”
“Come on, one call to Mr. Ellis, and you can have your own magazine.”
“I am not calling Dad!” I point my spoon at her. “I am capable of taking care of myself, and besides, Father has plenty to worry about. I won’t bug him with my crap.” What I don’t mention is that I don’t want to seem like a disappointment to my parents, like a failure. I wanted to show them that I could make my own way, and it backfired big time.
No, I will find something else I love and make them proud.
“Fine, fine, so what’s the plan now?” Kate asks me.
“Ice cream.” I pick up the bowl to show her. “Then drinks.”
***
“Ouch,” I hear my raspy voice musing in the morning while my head splits open at the sound.
I think those tequila shots, in the end, were a bit too much. Last night Kate, Enzo, and I went out to the bar and talked shit about my ex-boss. It was lovely, and I’d do it again if the hangover wasn’t so bad in the morning.
I hear banging.
Someone is banging on the front door.
“Aghhhh, go away!” I yell out as if they can hear me, but it only worsens my headache. My eyes are slammed shut, and Icannot open them up, but I feel for my phone and peak at the time. Seven-oh-five.
Seriously?
Who wakes non-working, jobless, and pathetic people up at seven in the morning?
There are no more sounds, and I’m hoping whoever was fighting for a the-most-hated award of the year left, but I’m not that lucky.
Bang, bang.
Come to think of it, I haven’t had good luck in quite a while. Did I cross paths with a black cat somewhere and wasn’t aware of it? Maybe broke a thousand mirrors and tripped hundreds of saltshakers all at the same time?
I’m not even sure how I got home last night. It was probably Julius; he would never let Kate go to the bar alone, although I don’t remember him with us.
Bang, bang.
Somehow, I manage to get up and crawl downstairs to kill whoever is at the door. I sharply swing it open without looking. “What?”
“Rise and shine, Kitten. You will be late.”
My eyes fly open as if someone injected them with caffeine and some Redbull because I know that voice.
I know that stupid, arrogant, hot, sexy voice.
The Dark Angel.
He’s here.
At my front door.
