F*ck Toy by Sybil Swift

Author:Sybil Swift [Swift, Sybil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-11T00:00:00+00:00

When she woke up the next morning she was sleeping on crumpled pages and the teacup was half full on her nightstand. But she skipped through the twelve handwritten pages she’d done and she somehow felt lighter. For the first time in a long time she didn’t have to pin a fake smile on her face to greet the day. Though some coffee would be appreciated.

She turned on the shower, eyes still closed, throwing off her pajama’s every which way onto the floor. The second the scalding water sluiced over her back, she groaned and eased farther back into the spray. When her tongue swiped across her lips she tasted the faint hint of salt from her tears. They weren’t bad ones, exactly. Needed. And she wasn’t sorry they’d been shed. Only Chloe had a niggling feeling that the whole transformation bit required a lot more crappy tears than it did sunshine and rainbows.

Ah, the price for long overdue independence.

After fifty minutes and a lavender exfoliating mini-bar later, Chloe dried off, threw on clothes, and followed her nose upstairs to the scent of coffee. Also a scent of something sweet and a little bit spicy was coming from the oven. But no one inhabited the kitchen. With a twist of her lips, she tried to keep her unexpected disappointment at bay. It wasn’t until she was three sips into her coffee that she noticed the scrap of receipt tacked to the fridge with a pizza shop magnet.

Coffee is fresh. Cinnamon rolls in the oven, they’ll beep, take them out, and try not to jump out of your skin this time. Biked to go get more supplies at the general store. Be good.

Noah hadn’t taken the time to sign his name but she doubted very highly that some home invader had come in this morning, noticed how unstocked the pantry was, and made pastries before heading out the door with their stolen loot. Yeah, the odds of that, not so much. A faint smile still clung to her lips when the timer went off. Took her a bit to find the oven mitts—third drawer to the right of the stove—but when she took them out and iced them, it took all of her willpower not to shove one down her throat piping hot internal injury or not.

Instead, she took her coffee to the dining room table and puzzled out what to do for the day. After fifteen minutes of contemplation, where the options all boiled down to either meditation or hard labor, she finished the last of her cinnamon roll, and headed toward Noah’s office to check out the big white board of tasks. Although a lot of the options involved knowing where things were kept at least Chloe could dust and rearrange. Spruce the place up and air it out.

What the beach house needed was a full-on renovation makeover. But that wasn’t in the cards considering she wasn’t the owner and didn’t get a final say in the house. Instead she made her way to the kitchen, found some old rags beneath the sink, and went to work.

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