Sunday, March 29, 2015

First Look

Guess wha-at?

You guys are gonna get the first chapter of One Sunny Afternoon today. I figure if I put it here, I'll have to have it ready soon. It's a very good anti-procrastination thing. Because let me tell you, if I can find a reason to surf the internet or reorganize my room or arrange my closet by color, I will do it. (The closet thing did not work out, by the way. Half of it was black, a quarter of it was dark, and then I had a few random light colors...most of which were light grey.) The first TWO chapters will be over on Wattpad, but for those of you not there (where are you?), you can have this one. And don't forget-The Muse's free period is almost over, so get it while you can.
* * *

“Hey, Fri?”

Friday Jones closed her eyes and silently cursed her parents. What kind of idiots named their child Friday? It wasn’t even a name!

“Yes, boss?”

“Will you stick this in the mail on your way home?”

“What is it?”

“The rent.”


Mitchel White dropped an envelope on her desk. It was a little creased around the edges and Friday put her dictionary on top of it.


“You didn’t notice the creases?”

He shrugged. Friday rolled her eyes and stretched. He hadn’t had a client for two days. Couldn’t she go home early? It was the weekend, after all.

“You can leave early, if you want.” Oh, he was a mind reader! “I have to meet with a client this afternoon.”

Oh, really?

“Is she pretty?”

He is about fifty pounds overweight and unaware of something called a bath.”

That was unfortunate. Better him than her. But why didn’t she know about this? She usually knew what the person looked like, at least.

“Why all the hush-hush?”

“I wish I could tell you, Fri, but they made me promise. I’ve probably said too much as it is.”

Ah, the price she paid for being the secretary. She’d much rather type than follow people around in the rain, though. Besides, she’d never been shot at, knocked out, or attacked in an alley. She’d been kidnapped once, but that was all.

“Get receipts for everything in case he kills you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

What? He’d hired her to type and answer the phone, not be his personal cheerleading squad.

“You’re welcome.”

“Here.” he said, tossing a check at her. “Thank you for another week of keeping the wisecracks to a minimum and keeping my files in order.”

It was payday? She’d forgotten. Well, there was another fifty dollars towards that mink coat at Spade’s.

“Thank you for remembering to pay me.”

“Don’t forget to drop that.” He tapped the dictionary. “I have to get going. See you Monday.”

“Take a bubble bath if you get stressed.”

“Men don’t take bubble baths.”

“Your loss. Bye, Mitch.”

* * *

A girl really couldn’t do better than this, Friday thought. A nice bubble bath, a glass of fine wine, and a good, trashy book. And it was the weekend! What more could she ask for?

Chocolate. She could ask for chocolate. Maybe she still had some pudding in the fridge. That would be just perfect.

The telephone rang.

Friday closed her eyes and hoped it would stop. Maybe if she ignored it, it would stop.

It kept ringing and she lowered a little further into the bubbles. She was dripping wet, for crying out loud! There was no reason for the phone to be ringing!

It finally stopped and she leaned back into her bubbles. Ahh. Bubble bath.

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