“But they named me after a snake.”
“So what?”
“So I don't want to be a snake!” I know I sound almost hysterical, but I can't help it.
“No one likes snakes! I'm more like a . . . a squirrel. Or a koala.” Koalas are soft and furry. And a bit snaggly.
“A koala? Olivia!” Eric laughs. “Darling, you're a cobra. You have timing. You have attack. That's what makes you a great businesswoman.”
“But I don't want to be” I break off as the buzzer sounds. “My taxi's here. I'd better go.” I head into the bedroom and pick up my three glossy gift bags, trying to regain my former optimism, trying to be excited about the day again. But suddenly all my confidence has evaporated. I'm a snake.
No wonder everyone hates me. As my taxi wends its way toward the Victoria Palace Road, I sk rigid on the backs
