I shoot him the bird before slipping into the room and shutting the door behind me, locking it.
“Asshole,” I grumble as I collapse back into bed. Gizmo wiggles out of my arms and moves to the pillow next to my head, curling up to sleep as if he didn’t just try to take down a giant of a man by himself.
I, on the other hand, can’t relax enough to sleep. Instead, I stare up at the ceiling, fuming.
Fuck Zander. Come morning, I’m going to call Grace and get this sorted and get his giant ass kicked to the curb.
The next morning, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and peel off the collagen face mask I’m wearing. I take my time as I wipe my face and then apply moisturizer before my primer. I am meticulous when it comes to caring for my skin - my acne-prone teenage years have given me a bit of a complex. Must be clean. Must be smooth. No flaws allowed!
Usually, my extensive skin care routine helps me relax and get ready for the day, but I’m still on edge as I think about the giant hottie asshat sleeping on the couch out in the living room. I barely slept a wink last night after our middle of the night confrontation, and now I’m dreading facing him again. It’s going to be so freaking awkward.
This is not how I imagined starting off my time in Denver.
When I finish my makeup and get dressed, I have no choice but to go out there and face him. I can’t put this off any longer.
Whatever… I’ve been in weirder situations before. I’m a strong, independent woman and will not let some inconsideratecreep keep me trapped in my bedroom when I have a job to do and asses to kick. Lifting my chin, I take a deep breath and unlock the door. I storm out to the living room, ready to lay into this Zander man once more but I stop short when I find the living room empty and the couch tidied up.
He’s already gone.
The fuck?
I stand there for a moment, completely at a loss for what to do. That’s when the anger sparks.
“The nerve of that bastard!” I exclaim. Gizmo comes up behind me and rubs against my leg, seemingly unbothered by my temper. “How dare he leave first?”
Wait… what? Why am I mad about that? This means I don’t have to deal with another awkward encounter this morning.
Still, how could he just leave before we could resolve anything? Asshole!
Frustrated, I grab my phone from my camera bag and dial up Grace’s number. He might not think it’s a priority to find out what happened to land us both in this apartment, but I sure do. I wait for Grace to answer, but when the call goes to her voicemail, I stomp my foot in anger and frustration.
Damn it!
No, no, stop. I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. I’m not going to let that arrogant jerk ruin my first day of work. He doesn’t matter. I’m just going to push him from my mind and head to the stadium to meet the team. Grace said she’d meet me there, so I’ll just talk to her face-to-face.
Everything will be fine. I’ll get this figured out and will hopefully not have to see Zander again while I’m here.
I make my way back to my room to feed Gizmo when my phone buzzes. Thinking it’s Grace calling me back, I answer without looking.
“Grace?”
“Uh… who’s Grace?”
I pause and blink, recognizing Blaire’s voice.
“Oh, sorry!” I quickly reply, “I thought you were someone else calling me back.”
She chuckles. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Grinning, I shake my head and continue on into the bedroom. “I’m not disappointed. How’s it going?”
Blaire sighs. “Oh, nothing too exciting to report. Juliet’s given me another puff piece to work on… some minor league baseball bullshit. Nothing great, feels like I’m wasting my talent on it. But enough about my shit. How’s your big, exciting story going?”
I wince at the slight twinge of bitterness in her tone. I do feel for her. “I’m, um, just getting ready to head to the rink now.”
“Ughhhh, I’m so jealous. I wish Juliet would give me more stories like that. You get to hang around with hunky hockey players and write a piece everyone’s going to see. I’m stuck writing about a team no one cares about outside of their own city. So lame.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I try to think of something to say to make her feel better. “How’s that new guy you’ve been talking to? Good I hope?”
