What I hadn’t counted on, was how much pleasure Liam was getting from torturing me. Standing there smugly with an all-knowing grin on his face pissed me off. I didn’t want to know but I so did.
“Fine.” I huffed before stomping into the bathroom.
“Whoa shit!” I exclaimed as I looked at my reflection. Even my very own swoony prince would run a million miles if he saw me like this. I had some of my hair plaited down the side of my face while most fell out. I had clips, bows, and pins of every color poking out in every direction. And the part she’d teased, I knew it was going to hurt trying to tame it.
Five minutes later I gave up. It was as good as I was going to get. I only had two hours left of my shift before I could head home and dive headfirst into my oversized tub, the factor that convinced me this apartment was the one for me.
Washing my hands, I collected all the sparkles I’d pulled out of my hair and stuffed them in my pocket. I’d leave them on my desk tonight and return them to Isabelle tomorrow, after the ball of course.
Exiting the bathroom, I strode purposefully toward Liam’s desk, walking straight past the crisps calling my name. I was starving. I hadn’t eaten anything more substantial than a handful of M&M’s since last night’s pizza binge, and my stomach was growling angrily.
“Right. What are you talking about?” I asked, peering over the high-top reception counter at Liam.
Talk about a clean freak. Everything was in its spot. There wasn’t even a pen out of place. Everything was exactly where it should be. Neat, tidy, and organized. I wished mine looked like this. I’d tried it, way too many times, but after spending hours getting everything in place, all it took was twenty minutes and I was right back where I started.
“Here,” Liam said, handing me a white box with a pink ribbon tied around it.
“What is it?” I asked, wondering if something was going to jump out at me. With Liam around, it wouldn’t exactly surprise me. I mean, he was the one around here who was known for his practical jokes.
“I don't know. Why don't you open it and find out? Who knows? Maybe it's your glass slipper.”
Flipping him the bird, I tucked the box under my arm and walked away.
“Wait! Charlotte! Where are you going? Aren’t you going to open it?”
Not in front of him. Who knows who sent it. It could be anything in there. I wasn’t expecting anything, I hadn’t ordered anything, at least I didn’t think I had but then again, I did have a trigger-happy finger when it came to that pesky ‘add to cart’ button.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I heard Liam call out from behind me.
Lengthening my strides, I rounded the corner and slipped into my office, kicking the door shut before setting the box down on my desk carefully.
Behind me the door creaked, and I ignored it. It’d just be Liam being a nosy pain in the ass. God forbid something happened in these four walls that he didn’t know about. “Aren’t you going to open it?” a voice asked. A voice that wasn’t Liam’s.
Turning around, I saw Hannah standing there rubbing her belly, something she was doing a lot these days.
“How’d you … you know what, never mind.” I was going to ask how she even knew, but I already had my answer—big mouth Liam.
“Who’s it from?”
“I don’t know. And if anyone bothered to give me five seconds to myself so I could open it, I might have time to find the answer,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair only for it to get caught on all the knots.
“Sorry.” Hannah apologized, and I felt like shit. This wasn’t just anyone asking, it was Hannah.
Turning back to the box, I lifted the lid to find a hastily scribbled post-it note on top of the pink tissue paper.
“What’s it say?” Hannah asked from across the room. I was impressed by her restraint. Pre-pregnant Hannah would’ve been snatching it out of my hand and running down the hall with it. But knocked up Hannah, just stood back and asked.
“It says, ‘for the prettiest princess at the ball’.”
“What the fuck?” Hannah replied, shocking me. She usually wasn’t the first one to curse, normally that was my job, but this time, she’d beaten me to it. “Who’s it from?”
“Doesn’t say.” And that intrigued me more than anything.
“That sucks.”
Curiosity was killing me. Forgetting about Hannah, I ripped the pink love heart sticker keeping the tissue paper in place, before ripping the paper apart.
The words escaped before I was ready. “Holy fuck.”
