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SARA

Holy shit.

I panted in the backseat of the cab, still running on the adrenaline of tonight’s potentially disastrous decision-making. It could be the biggest mistake of my life but fuck it, I’d done it.

I’d finally walked out.

I was supposed to be Stable Sara with Excel sheets for everything from her taxes to her groceries to her budget for next year’s Christmas gifts, but tonight I had officially reached my limit and quit the dream job I’d given my entire adult life to despite everyone imploring me to stay. But the company’s so famous, so iconic. You’ve put in so much time already. Why not stick around? Shouldn’t you consider yourself lucky to be there in the first place?”

I scrunched up my face as I freed myself from my blazer.

Yeah, no. Not so much.

If lucky meant nine years of chasing nonexistent promotions, being tricked into working thousands of overtime hours without the pay, getting thrown under the bus for anything the higher-ups did wrong, and spending the past three months on a piece that my editor had no intention of crediting me for – a fun fact I’d discovered just today – then sure, I was lucky. So lucky that I wound up permanently deleting all history of my research, contacts and writing, leaving the office in a blaze of glory that set my bosses back three months of hard work.

So… bridges?

All burned.

There was definitely no going back. And while it was exhilarating now, I knew that by morning, once reality set in, I’d be horrified. I’d worked with the company since I was eighteen. My office-centric life was all I knew. Being overworked was all I knew. In fact, I had no clue what to do with my time if I wasn’t strapped to a desk, and around 8AM tomorrow, I’d probably remember all that and have a very thorough meltdown.

So for now, I was going to ride the high.

“You said Lower East Side, miss?” the cabbie called back to confirm.

“Yes, Ludlow Street, right below Houston.”

Also known as the corner of Drink My Ass Off and Dance Till Four, I declared silently, yanking out my hair tie and shaking out my topknot.

I was in a rare mood.

I was feeling bold… liberated. Practically drunk off the thrill of having no responsibilities tomorrow. For the first time in my adult life, I had no one to report to, not a soul to be on call for, and I felt good about it, which was something I knew wouldn’t last, so… why not take advantage of tonight and do something crazy?

Well.

I bit my lip. I had answers for that.

A bevy of them that had to do with spur-of-the-moment decisions having deep and lasting consequences, and how I should really, really know that better than anyone else. But before I could get into that buzzkill with myself, a storm of texts pinged in my phone.

Perfect timing. I reached into my pocket, knowing without looking that the messages were all from my best friend.

LIA: Helloooo why must you text me and then disappear??

LIA: Wait so I don’t get it are you really going to make it tonight? How did you get out of work??

LIA: Did you finally duct tape your boss to her chair like I told you to

ME: Hi. I did… in a way. I’ll tell you when I get there. It’s a long story that you’re not going to believe and I’m going to require a drink first. Maybe three.

LIA: Yessssss story time so excited

LIA: Also Lukas knows the owners here so… open bar : )

ME: YESS. I’m 5 min away. Rooftop at the Victorian Hotel?

LIA: Yep rooftop terrace! Just give them Lukas’s name at the door. Should I have a drink ready for you?

ME: No but if you can find a hot guy who looks like he’d be killer in bed please grab him and tell him all about me

I was half-kidding but that didn’t stop the flurry of shocked emojis before Lia’s next message came in.

LIA: Whaaaaaaaaaat?

I snorted as I watched the ellipsis repeatedly drop off and return as my best friend tried to decide which of her many questions to ask first. I knew what she was thinking – when did I get the balls to have a one-night stand? Wasn’t I the chick who kept the same mild-mannered, borderline vanilla friend with benefits over the course of the past five years?

Yes. Yes, I was.


Tags: Stella Rhys Irresistible Romance