Queen Of Hearts

Queen Of Hearts - Chapter 2

No, no, no. Why?!

I fly out of bed like a bat out of hell. My head spins with the sudden motion and I don't waste any time digging for my phone in the bed sheets. Calvin is face down, ass up. Snoring and drooling into his pillow. I shake him.

"Calvin! What time is it?! Calvin!" I yell.

"Wh-huh, what? What's happening?" he raises his head and looks at me through sleep-glazed eyes.

"I slept in, that's what! What time is it?"

"Uhhhh.... 7:15 it looks like. Is that bad?"

"Gee, I don't know Calvin. The bus shows up at :30 after the hour and I'm just waking up, so yeah I'd say that's pretty bad. Where are my work clothes?"

"Well don't take it out on me" he says, hands raised in surrender. "and in the wash, like you asked. I even added in those fancy scent things to make it smell good."

"What scent things?"

"Those aren't ours?"

"No?"

"Huh, I thought they were."

Shaking out the comforter, my phone makes an appearance by tumbling onto the floor and landing face-down. 7:17. I guess I'm skipping the shower today. I throw on a robe and burst out of the apartment, taking off down the hallway to the laundry room. It's a ridiculously small room with only two washers and two dryers that are meant to serve fifteen apartments. I open one dryer, nothing. I make to open the second dryer and my stomach drops when I see that there's nothing in that one either. Don't tell me...

Washer one, empty. A voice disrupts my frantic searching.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" the short woman in the doorway tsks.

"Good morning Mrs.Bernitas"

"Is it?"

"Uh...."

"You're the scent booster thief. A nice girl like you, I never would have suspected" she says tapping her foot, arms crossed.

Mid-accusation I open the second washer and am nearly knocked backwards by the overpowering scent of Citrus Breeze.

"Mmmmhmm...." the neighbor hums eyeing the washer, her suspicions confirmed.

There in the bottom of the washer, is my sopping wet laundry. I pull it all up to my chest and quickly apologize to Mrs.Bernitas, promising to replace what Cal used. I run back down the hallway and throw the apartment door open, leaving a watery trail in my wake.

Cal is in the kitchen tipping the last drop of strawberry milk into his mouth. I drop the wet clothing on our tiny dining table and snatch the carton from his hand.

"Hey!"

"This" I say shaking the carton in his face, "is disgusting. It tastes like chalk. Why the f**k are my clothes still wet Cal?!"

"You said to wash them, I washed them." He actually has the audacity to sound annoyed.

I find my pale yellow work polo and a pair of black yoga pants amongst the wadded up ball. Time, what's the time.... 7:25, oh my god. I don't even have time to take the hairdryer to them. I hate what I'm about to do, but there's no other choice. I put on the wet clothing which sends a shiver down my spine. This is a sensory nightmare. It clings to my skin uncomfortably in all the wrong places as I make a mad dash for the bathroom to brush my teeth quickly. By the time I'm reaching the bus stop down the road, the final passengers are boarding and I feel like I'm going to pass out.

"Wait! Please, wait!!"

By the grace of God, I manage to get on the bus before the driver shuts the doors. I squish into my seat which feels horrible, but I'm going to make it so whatever. It isn't until about five minutes into the drive that something seems off. I scoot up to the front seat behind the driver and lean forward.

"New route?"

"Yep. They have me going to Bellhorn Avenue first now."

"What?? That's the other end of town. That doesn't even make sense. What time are we scheduled to get to Burwash Street?"

"8:20 m'dear"

"No! That's too late. I'm not going to make it on time."

"If I let you off here, you should be able to make it to Burwash on foot about ten minutes sooner."

That's still ten minutes late, but better than twenty at this point. I'll take it. I fly off the bus and book it down the street. After about 15 minutes, my lungs burn and my legs ache. My thighs are chafing and irritated from my damp pants, and just as I'm about to cross the street, a car screeches to a halt, narrowly missing me.

"Watch where you're going, dickhead!" I yell, not sparing a second glance at the Volvo. Maybe I should have let him hit me. Best case scenario, I get a good insurance payout. Worst case, I die and don't have to go home tonight. Not to Cal, who once made me feel loved but who now can't seem to complete one simple task to make my life a bit easier, even though I'm the only one working. Not to the gloomy apartment, with grouchy neighbor ladies. Not to my mundane life that only feels more bleak with each passing day. Jeez, do I really feel that way??

Finally I make it to the office, huffing and puffing. I walk past the two front desks to the staff room at the back. As expected, I'm the last one to arrive. Well, besides the new manager it seems. I guess that's the perk of being in a different paygrade. You show up whenever you want while the rest of us nearly break our necks trying to get here on time. I flop down into a seat at one of the round tables. Samantha, my co-worker and my best friend, takes the seat next to me, placing a hot coffee in front of me. I could weep.

"Bless you, you angel" I say taking a huge gulp.

Samantha smiles a smile that shows her perfect teeth. She pats me on the shoulder, quickly inspecting her hand afterward. "Rough morning? Why do you reek like a fruit bowl, and why are you wet? There isn't a cloud in the sky today." she says arching an eyebrow.

"You could say that." I put my elbow on the table, propping my face up with a fist. "Slept in, clothes didn't make it into the dryer, bus went the wrong way, almost got run over. That about sums it up."

Sam looks shocked before bursting out into laughter. "Oh my God, Melissa. Only you buddy, only you. Wait - did you say you almost got run over?!"

"Yeah, don't even ask. I made it, that's all that matters. At least the new guy isn't here yet."

Sam bites her bottom lip, "Ohhhh yes he is.."

"He is?"

"Yeah. He got here about twenty minutes ago. He is hot Melissa. Like, oh-daddy-hot.."

"Ew. Please refrain from saying that in the foreseeable future."

"He stepped out for a minute to take a phone call. The thing is... we were kind of waiting on you. I said you were probably just running a bit late and he said he wanted to make sure all of his new staff were present before we began the meeting. Oh s**t, here he comes now."

I lift my head up and straighten my back, only for my jaw to practically hit the ground.

In walks the guy from the convenience store yesterday, only this time he's in a white dress shirt and tie. He stands at the front of the room, clearing his throat.

He looks like he's about to say something but his mouth falls open a little as his wide-eyed expression mirrors my own. Everyone turns to look at me for a moment and I can feel Sam's eyes burning a hole in the side if my head.

"Hello everyone," he quickly recovers, breaking our eye-contact. "I'm pleased to meet my new team. It's my understanding that Bayside Event Company could use some improvements, so I'm here to take over management. My name is Adam Colstein. I'm going to be observing you today, so just go about your business as you would any other day. There's donuts and coffee over on the table. Help yourselves."

Happy mumbling breaks out amongst the staff, and Sam joins the donut line.

I stay seated, secretly praying for whatever God that might exist to strike me down where I sit, hopefully vaporizing me before I have to face what is now an incredibly awkward situation.

I go about the work day, answering phones and sending off forms to clients. I can feel our new boss's eyes on me from across the room. What was his name again? Adrian? Andrew? I'll have to ask Sam.

Finally 5:00 PM rolls around and as I make my way into the parking lot to catch the town bus, I hear him step out behind me and lock the door. s**t, I forgot to ask Sam what his name was. Maybe I can still salvage this.

"Hey... so.." my words get caught in my throat as I turn to look at him. He really is handsome. But also, a total weirdo. Whatever, what he does in his personal time doesn't concern me. I just need to make a better impression.

"Yes? Melissa, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm so sorry, I'm gapping on your name"

He offers me a tight lipped ghost of a smile before stepping out into the lot, turning to look at me over his shoulder.

"It's Adam...but some people prefer to call me dickhead."

My face heats as I watch him walk over to a Volvo, sliding into the driver's seat and pulling away.