Oh my God. Ohmygod. OH MY GOD. How is this happening? HOW did I somehow manage to get the one Zen Uber driver in all of freaking San Diego?
Fuck. My. Life.
“But there is something we can do about it,” I tell him as I jab my finger at the dashboard like some kind of self-obsessed lunatic. “We could go. We could go right now. It’s green! The light is green!”
“Calm,” he repeats as the car finally starts moving. “All will go as it should go.”
“Me getting fired is NOT how this should go!”
“You won’t get fired,” he says as he flashes me that big, creepy grin again. “I have a good feeling about this.”
“Well, that makes one of us,” I mutter as I pull my now sticky blouse away from my skin in a futile effort to cool down. I’d ask him to turn the heat off, but now that we’re finally in motion, the last thing I want to do is distract him. He doesn’t exactly seem like the type who can walk and chew gum at the same time…
“Trust the universe, Emerson. Trust the universe.”
“Yeah, well, it hasn’t exactly done anything to make me trust it lately.” Except get me this job, which I’m about to lose.
“Today that will change,” Rajiv tells me in a fortune-teller kind of voice, all slow and mystical. “Today will be a good day for you. I promise.”
“I hope so.” I really, really hope so.
As we make our way toward downtown in the steadily worsening rain, I debate whether or not I should call my new boss and tell her what happened. But when Kerry hired me, she told me she was always a little late to the office, so if luck is with me—and if Rajiv will actually get the car up to the speed limit in this century—maybe I still have a chance of beating her to work. Please, please, please, let me make it to work before she does. This might be a crappy job, but it’s the only one I’ve been able to get and I can’t lose it.
I just can’t.
Twenty-seven excruciating minutes later, Rajiv pulls into a parking spot at the front of the real estate office I’ve been hired to work at. I’m exactly sixteen minutes late to my first day of work, but at least I’m here. That’s something, right?
“Thanks, Rajiv!” I call over my shoulder as I fling the car door open and dive out. There’s a huge puddle in the street, so I aim for the sidewalk—and the colorful overhang directly above it. Considering I’m wearing a white blouse, the last thing I want to do is show up wet. I’m praying late won’t be a deal breaker, but late and looking like a contestant in a wet T-shirt contest…let’s say the odds won’t exactly be in my favor.
Why, oh why, didn’t I check the weather this morning? Oh, yeah, I was too busy trying to tame my hair. Total wrong move there. But in my defense, it’s San Diego. Ninety-nine percent of the time it’s blue skies and seventy degrees. The fact that it’s raining today is obviously just another sign that I have somehow offended the universe.
Once I’m safe on the sidewalk—and only a little damp—Rajiv toots his horn and waves before pulling back into traffic. I spend a couple seconds straightening my red pencil skirt and getting my excuses in order. Then I paste a huge, fake smile on my face and take a step toward the office door.
But that one step is all I get before a huge black truck veers quickly into the parking spot Rajiv just vacated. As it does, the front tire hits the puddle I just managed to avoid and sprays me with water from the tips of my rapidly frizzing hair to the hem of my now spandex-tight skirt.
Fuck. My. Life.
Chapter 2
Hunter
“Are you serious right now? Are you freaking serious right now?” the curvy little redhead squawks as I let myself out of my new truck. I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or the sky—her head is tilted back and her arms are out like she’s questioning the whole meaning of life—and I’m not sure if she knows, either.
Normally I’d feel like an ass for spraying her like that, but what kind of idiot stands that close to the curb on a rainy day anyway? Besides, she looks really good dripping wet. Really good. She’s got a hell of a rack on her and with her shirt plastered to her like that, I can see not just her lacy bra, but her breasts and her hard, rosy nipples, too.
Not to mention the way that polka-dotted skirt is now plastered to her shapely thighs makes it really hard to regret that puddle.
“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” I say as I hit lock on my key fob and step onto the curb. “But it’s a great look on you.”
Her eyes grow wide at her first sight of me, her mouth opening and closing though no words are coming out. I get that reaction a lot, so I just grin and give her a little wink as I walk up to the front of the real estate agency where I’m scheduled for my third appointment in five days. Which is a damn shame considering I’d rather stay out here awhile and flirt with Little Miss Raspberry Nipples. At this point it seems a much better use of my time than going from one inappropriate house to another, which is all I ended up doing during the last two appointments.
But I need this house even if I don’t want it—and since I have to close ASAP, the sooner I find one that meets my specs, the better. As the reason for the urgency settles over my shoulders, I quickly lose the good mood afforded by my early morning peep show.
I hate that it’s come to this, hate more that there’s nothing I can do about it. I have more money than I can spend in three lifetimes, but what the fuck does that matter if it doesn’t change anything? What the fuck does any of it matter?
I’m just reaching for the door when Little Miss Raspberry Nipples finally finds her voice. “Are you freaking kidding me?” she screeches, and this time she grabs on to my arm just to make sure I know she is indeed talking to me and not God, the universe or some imaginary friend of hers. “You just ruined my whole outfit—because you can’t park, I might add—and all you’ve got to say to me is, ‘It looks good on you’!”
“To be fair, that’s not all I said. I did apologize first.”