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2.3% Grumpy Boss Series / Chapter 3: Chapter 3

บท 3: Chapter 3

Emma

Over the years, I'd developed a skill. One that I'd never been proud of possessing, but it sort of went along the lines of denial. Not a little bit. But a lot. Like the time, I was graduating from high school, and everyone talked about their plans.

"I'm going to the big city and be a top model," declared the head cheerleader, Sandy, with her ginormous knockers. She'd ended up big in the city and living in a mansion, called the Playboy Mansion. She'd also changed her name from Sandy to Tiffini, but we all knew it was her.

"I'm going to be a very powerful lawyer," said Frances, whose dad was a lawyer, and not surprisingly, her uncle was a lawyer to. There was even a rumor that her dog, Bentley was a lawyer in his formal life. She's at one of the top universities in the country now and working her way to one of the top law schools in the world. There's a ninety-nine percent chance that her dream will come true.

And me, I said, "I'm going to marry Abe and have as many kids as we can have, preferably three or four."

I was in denial. Prom came and went, and I knew that I had no intention of marrying Abe, let alone having his kids. I had nightmares that I recited often to my friends, all three of them teasing me about how I would never know when the baby was conceived, because I would never know if Abe's dick was in or out of me.

True.

I would never know when we were having sex, or if Abe had come, and the worst part is that I would never know what it would be like to climax. Sure, there were other routes to the road to orgasm, but Abe never traveled down those roads. If I stayed with him, I'd have to figure it out myself. That was then, and I'd done something none of us had expected. I'd moved to the city. Moved, run away, semantics, right?

Living in the city and having my parents give me handouts was never on my future list of things to do when I grew up, so I thought that I would be here maybe for a week or two, if I didn't find a job. But there was something that kept me here and stopped me from going back home. It happened every time I spoke to Abe on the phone, in a text or email and he would talk about us planning the wedding as soon as I came back home.

I used to think that I was this horrible person that was leading him on. But I'd sent him an email that said I didn't want to get married. I'd told him over the phone more than once, and every single time, he brushed my denial aside. He said that I was confused, that I didn't belong here and that just made me want to stay even more. I realized at that point; my whole life had been about what others said that I needed or wanted. My needs and wants were never taken into consideration, by me let alone anyone else.

There was one problem, though.

One big problem.

I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I needed to move on from my frustration in life and do something more. So far that meant sleeping in a small two-bedroom apartment and not in one of the bedrooms but the sofa.

"Emma! Get a move on!"

Gail screamed at me as I sat on the sofa, wondering if this was really a good thing to do. That was another issue, I could never make up my mind about anything, I was more indecisive than I realized in the city, because everything I'd done up until now was kind of robotic. Going to high school, being with Abe, then helping Gail out. I took a deep breath as I replayed her words in my head.

'You'd make enough money to ...'

I shook my head as I thought about getting out of this deal.

"I'd make enough money to get off the sofa?"

I stood up and took her hand.

"Yes, now we need to get you something to wear."

She opened her bedroom door, then her closet and in seconds handed me a dress. One that was obviously hers, because it revealed a little too much skin. I wondered for a split second if I was going on a date. One that she'd tried to get me to go on one too many times, or an interview.

"This isn't what I should be wearing during the day, let alone for an interview for what exactly? A singer or a stripper?"

Her green eyes sparkled, "You wouldn't even wear it at night."

It was big enough to fit in my hand, and that was it.

"Where's the rest of it?" I asked as I tried to use my hands to hold out what looked a little bigger than a thong.

"That's it!"

I was about to point this out to her when I remembered what she said when she wore it the last time we went out, 'Leaves nothing to the imagination and wants men begging for it. Kind of like a - you can look, but you can't touch.'

I didn't want any man looking at, let alone, touching me.

I knew that I had to do it. Swallow my pride and just be done with it.

I took a deep breath and thought about Mary Poppins. A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, but in this case, a lot of pride will get me on a bed and away from a sofa.

"Tell me how much he's going to pay for this one night?"

"Ten big ones."

Yep, that was definitely enough to get me off the sofa. I took off my PJs that I'd been wearing all day.

Gross.

I'd showered earlier and decided that there was no point in changing again, so I opted for putting on my PJs again while I thought about my life-plan, which had resulted in making me cry one too many times. Now, I had something to smile about. I was going to get off the sofa and at last get into a real bed at night.

One of my own.


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