Have a glimpse at their future long after the happy ending in this special flash forward story. - https://dl.bookfunnel.com/5q0zzi0krj
Then keep reading for a preview of another magnificently infuriating boss as Magnus Heron grumps his way into Sabrina Bristol's heart in Office Grump.
Office Grump Preview
Happy Friday (Sabrina)
I know the moment I open my eyes that it抯 going to be a day.
It抯 Friday the Thirteenth, the worst day ever invented in the history of time.
A date belonging to screeching black cats, tumbling salt shakers, and broken clocks.
Not a day where good things happen to hardworking girls who wake up on the wrong side of their beds梐nd the achy crick in my neck tells me today抯 black magic already started on my pillow last night.
Awesome.
Somehow, I manage to crawl out of bed and get showered and dressed, without losing any limbs. But as I hop out of my bedroom in a brand-new outfit, still zipping my knee-high boot while trying to check my phone for the time, I realize what else feels off besides my poor neck.
I抦 flipping late.
Apparently, the alarms on my phone love this infamous day just as much as I do.
揙hhh, Brina, big date tonight? You look amazing! But you抮e late.?Paige holds out my purse and a paper coffee cup with an easygoing smile.
揥here would I be without you??I mutter, unsure whether I抦 rolling my eyes at her for going all Captain Obvious or the fact that I would be worse off without a friend like her.
I jerk the boot zipper the rest of the way up, then snatch the cup and purse from her. I抦 wearing a sweater dress with a jacket thrown over it and high heeled boots, an ensemble pulled together more for Chicago fall warmth than fashion. And I抳e thrown my walnut-brown hair into a ponytail this morning because it抯 the quickest fix.
揘o dates written in stone yet. You know how flaky Tinder dudes are,?I say, checking my phone again, willing time to slow down.
揇on抰 worry. You抣l make it,?Paige says with a sunny confidence I wish I had. 揚ersonally, I think you should rock the Miss Superstitious vibe. You抳e already got the name and we抳e been through this before棓
揜ight, and it always ends with the same question. Do I look like a teenager or a witch??I watch her lashes flutter as she bats her eyes so innocently.
God. I抦 starting to wish I was magic because if I don抰 make my bus...hello, doom.
As I抦 lunging for the door, I realize it抯 way too early for my night owl of a roommate to be out of bed. 揥hy are you awake, anyway??
揑抦 going to Lincoln Park to meet a potential client.?She runs a hand through her blond hair like it抯 totally natural for anyone to be so beautiful this early in the morning.
So maybe I wish I could steal her confidence along with her style mojo, too.
揑t抯 Friday the Thirteenth,?I remind her. 揃e careful.?
She sips her coffee with a loud snort. 揙h, you and your hocus pocus. Some of the best things ever happen on Fridays ending in thirteen.?
揕ike what??I call over my shoulder, but I don抰 have time to wait for her answer. I power stomp down the stairs without a second look, hoping she抯 right.
But seriously?
Good things?
Today?
No. Nope. Never.
Racing down the block, I glance at my bus stop...
...just as the bus drives away.
揝onofa棓 I cut myself off mid-curse when an old lady out for a stroll casts me a dirty glance.
Rather than daydream about how heavenly it must be to waltz around this early without panicking over a job, I push my lips against my coffee cup and slurp so loud I hope it scares someone.
Third time this month I抦 late. Happy happy, joy joy.
Luckily, no one at the office ever said anything the last two times. Mostly because I work my ass off and I always make up the time in the evenings.
I rage-gulp my coffee and then toss the cup in the trash, waiting on the next bus to come, keeping my eyes peeled for more bad luck.
So far, no velvety black cats on a personal mission to ruin my day.
Small consolation.
When I finally catch the next bus and stumble into the building抯 elevator, the metal doors start closing in slow motion right in front of my face.
I抦 already forty minutes late. Again.
No freaking way am I letting these doors shut before I抦 in. Stretching one foot in front of the shiny doors, I jiggle it, hoping to set off the sensor so they reopen.
Instead, they close.
Right over the spike of my high-heeled boot.
Oh.
Oh, God.
I gasp, terrified by the loud crunch! that erupts through the silence.
Bones?
Heart pounding, I wiggle my toes, bracing for the worst.
But my foot doesn抰 hurt at all.
It only caught my heel, tripping the sensor梩hough the second the door pings open, my mangled heel hits the floor. I throw myself in as fast as a girl on one heel can and scoop up the broken part with a sigh.
These things happen.
It抯 Friday the freaking Thirteenth.
If shearing off a heel and a late bus are the worst things today? I抣l be fiiine.
Except, from the instant the elevator stops on my floor, I know something抯 off. It抯 weirdly quiet inside Purry Furniture & More抯 downtown headquarters, and I抦 half expecting to see the cutesy black cats on the posters come leaping out after me with their claws drawn.
I also spot Vanessa, my boss, as soon as the steel doors pull apart. She stands at the front desk and smiles.
Not a nice one, exactly. More like a wooden smile that says, oh, hey, I抦 trying to pretend I have it all together, but I抦 actually juggling atomic bombs, and I抦 about to drop one in your lap.
What now? Is it my timing?
I step out, brandishing my heel.
揤anessa, so sorry I抦 late. My alarms were off and I had a little mishap with a hungry elevator, so...?Before I can even get my whole sob story out, she stops me with a raised hand, her fingers splayed apart.
揘o big, Sabrina. Can you come into my office for a sec? I need to talk to you.?
Odd.
So is her ominously formal use of my name. Why didn抰 she just call me Brina like always? Like everyone always has, since the dawn of time.
As I follow her, limping on my broken heel, I swallow a cold, bitter rock in my throat.
Friday the Thirteenth.
My boss wants to 搕alk.?
How screwed am I?
She wheels herself behind her massive glass desk with another awkward semi-smile and tents her fingers in front of her.
揥ell. Sabrina, there抯 no easy way to say this and you抮e too good for me to sugarcoat it, so here goes. You抳e been a fabulously talented, hardworking member of our Purry creative team. We absolutely love your designs; however...I抦 afraid we抮e facing budget cuts.?
揙h.?That sounds like a downer. But I抦 a valuable member of this team. I get things done! 揑...I thought you told me the designs I did were phenomenal? Half of them are hanging around the office.?
揂nd they are, yes. But the hard truth is, Mr. Tillis, the owner, believes it抯 time to take a look at hiring talent to save costs in the same places where our furniture is manufactured. Jack found a way to get similar graphic designs from Bangladesh at about one dollar a piece. They抮e not quite as polished as yours, of course, but...?
I抦 not listening anymore.
Jack? Did she just say Jack? Jackass?
揧ou mean the frat boy I抳e been training梪m, I mean, the桱ack the Intern??
Frowning, Vanessa clears her throat and nods.
Holy Hannah. It抯 hard not to roll my eyes right out of their sockets.
Now I get why the kid was so interested in buzzing around my desk to find out what parts of the process we梞eaning he梒ould automate or outsource. All for a shiny unpaid internship to slap on his college resume.
揝o this means I抦 fired??I ask numbly.
Her eyes widen in a Goodness, no! kind of way.
For a flimsy second, I think this day might not sink into the tar pit it抯 heading for.
揕et go,?she whispers, as if that softens the blow. 揗r. Tillis prefers the phrase right-sizing.?
I choke on the air in my lungs and focus on trying to breathe through cement so I don抰 flip her the bird by reflex.