ELENA
I sighed for the thousandth time in less than five minutes, running a hand through my hair.
Emily chuckled as she watched from where she lay sprawled on the bed, clicking her tongue.
“Oh, Elena freaking Carlson,” she whined as I dug through a wardrobe of clothes, tossing a few behind me, “getting all agitated about a freaking dress you’d wear to work.” She shook her head, her lips quirking up in a snide smile. “And you say you’re not in love with this man. This…Atlas.”
“Love?!” I panned out in a sharp tone, my brows shooting up. “Love? Oh please, don’t be ridiculous, Emily. I don’t even like that man, to start with—“
“Yet you’re doing this?” She interrupted in an amused tone, gesturing round the littered room.
“I’m just trying to look nice on my first day at work!” I argued,
