CHAPTER EIGHT
MAKE IT STOP. God, make it stop. Her head pounded almost as much as her stomach twirled. Why did I do this to myself? Why? Jake and she drank and f****d until four that morning. She only had time for a brief catnap when she finally stumbled through her front door, her stomach gurgling its dissatisfaction at her. She’s not sure what her final drink count was at the end of the night, but it was enough to make her wish for death this morning. She was still wishing.
She trudged into the office at nine, and that was only because she hit her snooze button the maximum number of times and was afraid of sleeping the day away if she didn’t get out of bed right then. Rourke would not be pleased if she didn’t show. A hot shower and half a pot of coffee did nothing to ease her agony or
