I sit up. I flop back down. I sit back up again.
“Oh god.”
Today is the day.
THE DAY.
At 11AM I have to walk into hisoffice, his personal territory, his throne room, his sexy lair, and pretend to be a functioning human being.
I roll out of bed and nearly trip over my own anxiety.
The outfit the girls forced on me is hanging on the wardrobe door like a threat.
I shower. I moisturize. I stare at myself in the mirror like I’m about to give a TED Talk on how to not lose your job due to lust.
“You can do this,” I whisper.
No I can’t.
“You’re professional.”
HAHAHAHAHA.
“You’re calm.”
Absolutely not.
“You don’t care about him.”
LIES.
SLANDER.
TREASON.
I put my hair in soft waves just like Ava said. I do my makeup, clean, subtle, glowy. I put on the outfit.
It fits too well. Hugs too nicely. Makes me look like someone who knows what she’s doing.
I’m a fraud. A trembling fraud.
I stare at the clock.
10:36 am.
No.
Too soon.
I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head to work.
Halfway there I want to vomit.
This is going to kill me.
JAXON
I wake before my alarm too.
