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I Can Explain (Awkward Love 2)

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Driving the company car, I head toward the laundromat, sighing as I’m forced to slow to a stop in gridlocked traffic. It’s always like this, which is one of the reasons I hate driving around here. I love inner city Boston most of the time, but having to go all the way over to the other side of town every few days to pick up his dry-cleaning was enough to send my nerves into a frenzy. Never mind the half a dozen dry-cleaners that are miles closer to the office. Some were even within walking distance. Hell, some even delivered to our office complex. That didn’t matter because Chase has a boner for this place. Probably because he didn't like the starch the other places used.

I finally make it through the traffic and find a parking spot right out in the front of Grind, one of the few places where Chase accepted coffee from. Yes, I had a list of approved places to get his beverages from. You don’t want to know what happens when I stray from that list. I detour inside and order his double shot latte, being extra careful to include his sugar, then I walk over the road to where the dry-cleaner is located.

Walking inside, I hand my ticket to the man behind the counter. He gives me a funny look and then disappears at the back while mumbling something under his breath. Okay. That was strange. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I get the feeling it’s not going to be good. I glance outside and frown. The longer this takes, the more traffic I’m going to hit on the way back, and the last thing I want is to give Chase any more reason to be annoyed at me.

I look back at the counter, relieved the attendant has returned with the owner in tow. Tony smiles at me, but he won’t meet my eyes. I wait for him to tell me what the problem is. Knowing my luck, his shirts are probably pink.

“I’m sorry, Alana,” Tony mumbles. “I don't know how to say this, but we're having trouble locating your order.”

“Excuse me?” I say, my eyes widening. No doubt this will be my fault too. “How?”

Tony glances at the other guy. I come in here a lot, and I’ve never seen him before.

“Marcus only started this week.” Well, that explains that. “He’s still getting used to our regular clients, but he’s pretty sure someone came in earlier today to collect it,” Tony explains. He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry about this. Can you give us half an hour to fix this? Do you have something else you can do and then come back?”

What the hell was I going to do around here for half an hour, other than panic about losing my job? Look for another one? Chase is going to kill me for this. Work will be over by the time I get back. Okay, so that part didn’t sound so bad, but still, I’m in enough trouble over what happened earlier. I glance down at the coffee in my hand and groan. I can already feel it going cold. I don't really have a choice other than to agree because going back without his dry-cleaning just isn’t an option.

“Fine,” I sigh. I scribble down my phone number and slide it across the counter. “Please call me and not Mr. Winston the moment you locate it,” I say sternly. He will freak if he finds out about this.

Tony nods. “Of course. Again, I'm so sorry about this, Alana.”

I smile tightly and then walk outside. I glance around, still not sure what to do to fill in the time. Then I wander across the road to the park and sit down under a large oak tree.

“Fuck,” I growl, blinking back tears.

I swirl the coffee around in the cup and frown as it’s delicious aroma engulfs me. My mouth waters as I stare at his precious coffee. What the hell. It’s going to be cold, anyway. I may as well drink it and get him a fresh one on the way back, because going in there two hours late with no dry cleaning and a cold coffee would definitely get me fired. I set the empty cup down on the grass and wrap my arms around my chest, the breeze cooler than I was expecting.

I'm so upset with everything. I know I don't help the situation with scenarios like this morning, but I feel like I'm underappreciated and underutilized, and it’s driving me insane. Sending me out to collect dry cleaning and get coffee when I’m qualified for so much more is so frustrating. Surely, there were better things I could be doing with my time. I didn't spend six years at college to do this, did I? Why am I even here? He’s never going to give me a chance. Even more so now.


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