The Oblivious Girl's Handbook by DelSheree Gladden

Author:DelSheree Gladden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, love, mystery, comedy, humor, romantic comedy, romantic, valentines day, second chance, starting over
Publisher: DelSheree Gladden

Chapter 18

Leave It Alone

The walk from the parking lot to my apartment felt ten miles long. By the time I’d left, I still didn’t have computer access and only made it through a quarter of the file Adam had given me. The complexity of it was daunting, and I was almost positive it was a test, or maybe a punishment for not being prepared on my first day and missing my chance to meet with Mr. Cutter for the orientation I desperately needed.

Adam had fielded several questions for me—through email, of course—but I was still completely overwhelmed and mostly lost when it came to what I was supposed to be doing. There was little hope of getting back into Mr. Cutter’s good graces. According to Adam, the only way to do that was to get my work done on time with no mistakes. My hope was pretty slim of accomplishing that, but I was determined. What was one more person added to the list of people I needed to prove myself to?

My feet hurt as I trudged up the stairs toward my apartment and I reminded myself to never wear four-inch heels to work again. I’d been too afraid of violating some dress code I didn’t know about to take them off while I was at my desk. The heavy handbooks and manuals in my arms reminded me of the not-so-light reading I had to do. I’d thought I was beyond homework.

Sighing, I unlocked my door and pushed it inward. It bounced back after only a few inches, so I pushed it even harder, assuming some box had tipped over and spilled books or pans in front of the door. I’d clean it up later.

I slipped through the narrow opening and was immediately attacked. An angry yowl preceded a flurry of razor sharp talons slashing at my shins. Even though I should have been used to that kind of greeting from my Hell-spawn cat, she scared the living daylights out of me and I jumped back. The boxes blocking my escape route clipped me at the backs of the knees, and I was flying backward a second later. The breath blasted out of my lungs and I smacked into the floor between a box of DVDs and my coffee table—which was covered with books and random small appliances. It was a small miracle I hadn’t brained myself on the edge of the table.

Reaching up, I grabbed a paperback and chucked it in the general direction of where I’d last seen Misfit. “You are the worst pet ever!” I snapped at it.

I could imagine her response—had she been able to speak—would have been something along the lines of, “Well, you’re the worst pet owner ever, so suck it.”

Unable to argue with my cat’s unspoken retort, I let my head fall back to the floor and closed my eyes. It didn’t seem unreasonable at all to lie there all night feeling sorry for myself. Only fear that Misfit would see it as an opportunity to further maim me, and the fact that I was starving, urged me to quit being a baby.

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