How Was Last Night For You – The Morning After and Brunch


Hi all! Chapter Two of my Novel ” How Was Last Night For You,” retouched and refinished. Probably a few mistakes but I’ll try to catch those . Please enjoy. Sorry if they are long to read. But I like the way the story is going much better this time around. The characters have developed more and there are details more about the setting and location. Enjoy

Mandibelle16

For Chapter 1 of the story go to the highlighted link!

Chapter 2: The Morning After and Brunch

Nina awoke after sleeping and buried her fingers in her messy hair. Why, why do I drink so much? She thought. Nina’s head was pounding. She began to think about the night before. She thought about the subtle warning her body exhibited about John. And she remembered the vicious fight at The Manhattan, the poor person who was stabbed, and the woman who had grabbed onto Nina’s ankle from the water. Why had this woman claimed someone had pushed her into the water from her boat then decided to change her story? Did she truly see another woman in the water? Was that who pushed her in?

Last night,  Nina hadn’t doubted John in the end. He had been the perfect gentlemen to her. But there was an odd, careless…

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Before He Cheats


Writers Prompt Challenge #2 Writer’s Hub

Carla was angry, she was furious. She had trusted Kyle again and he had cheated on her just like the last time. She sat in her living room on a Saturday night her gut churning and she thought to herself ” [r]ight now he’s probably slow dancing with a bleach blond tramp and she’s probably getting frisky. Right now [Kyle’s] probably buying her some fruity little drink because she can’t shoot whisky. Right now he’s probably up behind her with a pool stick showing her how to shoot a combo.” The images went round in her head. “He’s probably doing this. . .” and ” he’s probably doing that . . .” and what could she do about  it, then the answer came to her in an instant.

That stupid truck of his, that he loved more than her. That awful machine that growled in anger every time it sped up. That dumb Chevy that he was so proud of. ” I wonder” she said aloud ” How he would feel if I [dug] my keys into his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats. [I’ll take] a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slash a hole in all four tires, [then]  maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.” She picked up her Louisville slugger, grabbed her keys, and headed for the door, “yes” she laughed, “[m]aybe, next time he’ll think before he cheats.”

But on the way the way to the bar where Kyle had his truck parked Carla began to think about what he might be doing with some tramp in the bar again . . . ” [r]ight now she’s probably up singing some white trash version of Shania karaoke, Right now she’s thinking I’m drunk and [Kyle’s] thinking that he’s going to get lucky. Right now he’s probably dabbing on four dollars worth of that bathroom polo, but [Kyle} don’t know . . .” Carla thought to herself in glee. She grabbed the slugger and ran her hand up the side as she parked her car a distance from the truck. She got out of her car, saw Kyle’s beautiful shiny and disgusting truck in front of her in the bar parking lot and began to break it. Glass shattered, leather ripped, metal dented, and headlights broke. “Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats…” Carla laughed.She thought that “[she] might have saved a little trouble for the next girl, because the next time that [Kyle] cheats . . . it [wouldn’t] be on [her] . . . no not on me” she said in a high-pitched maniac voice. She giggled and began smashing Kyle’s beloved truck to pieces and shards again.

Before He Cheats

Blogging 201- Poll For mandibelle16


Survey for mandibelle16. Comments are welcome on the poll!

Thanks for answering if you have any questions or any comments please feel free to comment below! I will get back to you shortly.

 

 

2. How Was Last Night For You – The Morning After and Brunch


For Chapter 1 of the story go to the highlighted link!

Chapter 2: The Morning After and Brunch

Nina awoke after sleeping and buried her fingers in her messy hair. Why, why do I drink so much? She thought. Nina’s head was pounding. She began to think about the night before. She thought about the subtle warning her body exhibited about John. And she remembered the vicious fight at The Manhattan, the poor person who was stabbed, and the woman who had grabbed onto Nina’s ankle from the water. Why had this woman claimed someone had pushed her into the water from her boat then decided to change her story? Did she truly see another woman in the water? Was that who pushed her in?

Last night,  Nina hadn’t doubted John in the end. He had been the perfect gentlemen to her. But there was an odd, careless, and resigned feeling to John. He had told Nina that it was only the full moon that made these odd events occur. John reminded Nina of the moon. Perhaps, it called to John like a beacon last night. There had been a bit of crazy in his eyes when he looked at the moon. At the same time, there was the gentle and practical side Nina had experienced of John.

He had helped Nina home and made her laugh. He told her about growing up in Adare in the suburbs playing in the leaves in Fall when he was young with his brother’s, Jasper and Jordan. They had a tree house his father Jack built. John’s Mom Edith would call the boys inside for hot chocolate with whipped cream when they were lucky. As boys, the three men  wrestled and tried to hurt each other. Jasper usually won because he was the the tallest and biggest but Jordan caught up to him, as did John.

John had also said he ran his own company with his brother’s called Mergers. They were a Publishing Company and ran the business over people who edited books, magazines, and decided which manuscripts were good and which were not. Nina had thought John had a fascinating job. She might like to work in the publishing field or be a writer. Nina was an assistant in marketing for an accounting firm called Wilus. Although, marketing had been what Nina wanted to go into in University, it didn’t quite fulfill the excitement Nina craved. Nina thought writing would be exciting. She craved a creative outlet of some kind. It had never bothered her until now, but she thought she might sit down and write something when she wasn’t busy. Only to see if she could still write anything of consequence.

Last night had been exciting! Nina believed  there were certain things that could not be explained by reason. There were powers in this world both good and evil. Nina prayed for the people who had been hurt last night. She secretly believed all people had some good in them. She was meeting John for lunch on Sunday. She thought he had a lot of good to him, even though behind his eyes such as dark shadows, secrets hid.

It wasn’t just the fact that John had piercing bright blue eye’s; a sculpted physique; an open boyish face with a wide smile; and kissable lips. It wasn’t because she liked John a lot, that he had cared for her so well the night before, and they had slept together. But she felt as if she knew John. Despite the fact Nina couldn’t put her finger on what was off about John, she believed his goodness out weighed the shadow of doubt that she and the events of last night had cast upon him.

First, Nina had to eat something even though her stomach felt queasy from getting plastered. Maybe, she would have a glass of orange juice, the electrolytes would help her hangover. Then she would call her bestfriend, Rianne and they would go shopping together. Nina needed to find the perfect lunch time outfit for John. Nothing  too over the top, maybe just a nice shirt to go with her dark jeans and her new pair of svelte black heels. She would also like Rianne’s opinion on what happened the other night with John. Maybe she could shed some light on the situation.

——-

The next day Nina met John at a modern restaurant overlooking the water that rippled and shimmered in the middle of the city. The restaurant was called The Hour Glass and was quite popular with a few locations in Adare. The sun cast John in a bright light which was ironic considering Nina knew John was no angel. It shone and reflected on the frame of sleek designer navy glasses that only made John’s eyes bluer. His mouth curved in a sly grin and he quickly got up to kiss Nina on the cheek as she greeted John at their table. John pulled out a comfortable red chair for Nina to sit in. She sat down grinning at John’s pleasant manners still feeling the imprint of his lips on her cheek.

The Hour Glass was comfortable and stylish. Black chairs and tables with deep-red upholstered seats covered a dining room and patio. Modern chandeliers hung from the ceiling inside where they sat and a sleek rectangular slate grey tiled fountain with shooting water springs was the center piece for the entire restaurant.

At supper The Hour Glass was a fashionable and romantic place to eat dinner with music that wasn’t too loud. But at night it became more of a bar. Especially in the warmer season, a windowed wall would open up and the patio was a prime location to be. It had a round slate tiled fountain and modern street lamps sitting amidst metal patio furniture. There were red cushions on the chairs and on booths for groups and lone couples to sit at. The booths were the best seats on the patio.

Nina sat inside with John as it was becoming Winter. Rain outside often became sleet.  Nina ordered a ginger ale and orange juice to calm her stomach. John ordered a beer. He sipped his drink lazily and turned his bright eyes on Nina who wore a turquoise blouse made from silk with her jeans and heels. John played with the chain around his neck, as Nina examined his appearance. A fitted navy jacket and dark fitted jeans, suited him. John rolled his beer bottle between his hands on the table and grinned at Nina:

” I was worried you wouldn’t come. After all, you don’t know me that well and last night was scary for you.” Nina opened her lips then closed them sipping her orange juice and ginger ale.

” John, was it a one night stand?” she blurted out “I’ve never done one of those before. I’m not that kind of girl, but I don’t think you would have invited me here if that’s all you think it is. I kind of thought we shared a bit of something last night. I think we’re attracted to each other a lot.  I mean, you acted as if you were such a gentlemen. You protected me and I liked being with you last night at my place. I would really like to see you some more.” Nina said wistfully. It was hard to meet men and John was really hot. John enamored Nina and he knew it. But she wasn’t clear if John felt the same way about her. John’s eyes pierced Nina and crinkled up in the corners as he smiled.

” You’re a good girl Nina and I had a lot of fun with you last night, all night. I would like to see you again but I’m a busy guy and I’m not sure you should be hanging around someone like me. You’re five or six years younger than I and I don’t know if you’re looking for the same thing I am. And you don’t know what kind of man I am Nina.  I haven’t always been the nicest guy, in fact, often I’m the mean guy, the guy who’ll  take you home and forget about you the next day. Starting what you want would be different for me…” John cleared his throat and looked away. Nina caught a soft smile still on his lips as he observed her.

” Well”, said Nina bemused ” I wasn’t asking to get married or even for a relationship. I was asking to see where this can go. I don’t meet guys I like often. I would like to see where the situation between us could go? Also, I had questions, you know about last night. Trouble just seemed to follow you and I around John. Why do you think that was?” Nina looked at John worried she’d gone too far and sighed in relief when John picked up the conversation. The waiter returned to take their food orders and Nina ordered a club sandwich and salad.

“I’d be willing to date you Nina, if that’s what you are looking for. I like you a lot. You’re different then my usual type,” John pondered. “But I can’t promise more and have to warn you about me. Trouble follows me like a curse Nina. That’s why I can’t commit to anything more. Bad things happen all around me. You don’t believe me but something is going to happen in this restaurant today. I know it is . . . ” John covered his head as if in pain.

On que, the large chandelier at The Hour Glass dropped to the dark wood floor of the restaurant  in a loud clash of glass and steel. The restaurant was fairly empty for a Sunday but families were there having brunch and enjoying the sunshine let in through the patio windows. Children let out frightened cries and adults held them back in fear and gawked as the light fell. Servers rushed to the scene of the accident and Nina rose up out of her chair to look while John sat calmly and stared at his hands. The restaurant manager came running, in awe at the chandelier covering the floor, no doubt thinking about lawsuits. Luckily, no one was hurt by stray pieces when the light fell.

” I don’t want bad things to happen but around me they do… I get this feeling when there about to occur.” John said sadly. Nina looked at him wide eyed and slightly afraid. He took her hand as she sat back down in her padded chair. ” I could never hurt you Nina, some people I can keep safe. Other, times I’m a walking nightmare. It’s not so bad most of the time, really.” John murmured his last sentence sadly as if he was sure he’d lost Nina already.

” I don’t know” Nina whispered “This is strange but I believe that strange things can happen in life and that they do. I don’t think everything that occurs in our lives is explainable, or always has an answer. I don’t believe you’re an evil person. Can you make those bad events stop happening John? Can you ever escape calamity?” Nina cleared her throat and gripped John’s hand tightly.

” There are ways, Nina” John said softly. ” There are ways, but for now lets just eat our food…” Nina looked at the people examining the chandelier’s remains.

“I’m not hungry” Nina grimaced noticing John’s mostly empty plate.” John stuck three twenties on the table, stood, and took Nina’s hand.

” Let’s walk, I live close by” he said casually, ” I thought maybe you could come over and we could talk, in private you know. I think you might believe me if I tell you”

“Believe what? Why all these events occurring around you? Around us? I think I’m freaking out a bit right now.”

“It will be okay Nina, I’m pretty sure I can keep you safe from these events. I think you’re the first woman I cared about in…well a long time. I know it’s fast but I need to tell you something that will probably seem unbelievable and ‘Brother’s Grimm’ to you. I need to tell you how I became this way. Maybe, you can help me get out of it.”

Nina closed her eyes and sighed. “Okay, you can tell me. I don’t know what I’ll believe but after all these events, an explanation would be nice.” Nina  left her car parked in the parking lot of The Hour Glass and let John lead her up the sidewalk a few blocks into the fancy houses lining the waterfront of Adare. John walked with her to his own house to the front door. Nina felt apprehensive. She concentrated on the  boats sailing by in the Sirene Lake on the waterfront. A lone fish leaped and sparkled in the grey-blue water.

Please read Chapter 3 here.

—-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Writing 101 – “The House That Built Me.”


Sorry first copy was so riddled with spelling mistakes I can’t believe I sent it like that. If there’s more I apologize.

Mandibelle16

The House That Built Me – Miranda Lambert

When I was 17-years-old, my family moved out of our 850 square foot house (one level) because my family needed more space. My brother’s were big teenagers at 15-years-old and 13-years-old, we had a medium-sized dog named Nikki, plus my parents. The old house was too small to fit us all. Slowly, we packed up boxes, putting away books, trinkets, dishes, all items that held memories. The dog didn’t know what was going on but she remained in a confused hyper-alert state and came crashing through the room anytime a large item of furniture was moved. We moved everything ourselves, rented a big u-haul truck and moved about 13 blocks closer to the River Valley into the house we live now.

Our old house was tiny. Even when we were little kids and I was 12-years-old it was small but my Dad…

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Writing 101 – “The House That Built Me.”


The House That Built Me – Miranda Lambert

When I was 17-years-old, my family moved out of our 850 square foot house (per level) because my family needed more space. My brother’s were big teenagers at 15-years-old and 13-years-old, we had a medium-sized dog named Nikki, plus my parents. The old house was too small to fit us all. Slowly, we packed up boxes, putting away books, trinkets, dishes, all items that held memories. The dog didn’t know what was going on but she remained in a confused hyper-alert state and came crashing through the room anytime a large item of furniture was moved. We moved everything ourselves, rented a big u-haul truck, and moved about 13 blocks closer to the River Valley into the house we live now.

Our old house was tiny. Even when we were little kids and I was 12-years-old it was small but my Dad had done a lot of work on our old house and I think it was a blow to each of us to see years later, the new owner had taken out the hedge that separated the garden from the lawn; sodded over the garden where we had grown every kind of vegetable — also these tiny but tart little strawberries; we saw that the new owner had taken down the deck and built a set of ugly steps up to the patio door; we saw he had chopped down the apple tree that we had grafted various kinds of green and red mouth-watering apple branches to; the new owner chopped down other trees in the front yard;  and the little house that had never seemed a hovel to us, now looks like one because of him.

Inside the little house was a landing when you came in with steps going downstairs and short flight of steps going up to the kitchen. We had an oak table in the kitchen. There were oak kitchen cabinets and drawers against the far wall where half of the cupboards were oak and the other half were still the old 1940’s cupboards that were original to the house. My Dad had never finished that project.

Down a hallway from the kitchen was a peach bathroom Dad had redone when I was a little girl (smaller than 12-years-old) and a living room where we had ripped out the carpet to reveal a wooden floor. The living room had become the nicest room in the house with  light green and gold sofas; a cream, green, and rose flowered carpet; and a runner of similar pattern to the carpet by the front door and closet. There was a piano in the living room that I hated. I hated to practice on it and hated it even more when my Dad started singing and practicing on the piano at 6:30 am on a Saturday for choir.

Down the hall were 2 bedrooms: the master bedroom painted light yellow where my parents slept, and a white room with a 90’s green carpet where my little brother slept. My brother’s room had a wide desk with 2 alcoves for seats and this desk covered the back wall. Both my brothers had been in that room at one time.

Downstairs was a small bathroom my Dad had built as well as laundry and a small pantry area to the left. Directly, in front of the stairs was my other brother’s bedroom that use to be my Dad’s office. It had grey carpet and white walls and was the perfect place for a boy who loved computers. To the left of that room was a playroom and TV room where we sat on old couches and watched tapes full of Disney movies that my Aunt had tapped off of TV.

And in the corner and to the left of that room was my bedroom. It was a room my Dad had built from a concrete storage area and when I was 8-years-old I moved down there and painted it a gorgeous bright light blue. This went with an ice blue carpet, a twin sized bed my dad had made with drawers when I was 4-years-old, a Barbie house, a dresser with a mirror, and too many spiders who visited too often.

When we drive by our old house now, we try not to look. It’s hard seeing what someone else did to your families hard work. I think my parents redid every room in that house at one time or another and if it didn’t look as nice in the end it’s because we were kids and kids are hard on houses and so are pets.

The backyard was the most beautiful area on our property.  It was always covered in flowers and the garden full of wonderful vegetables like peas and carrots that the dog pigged out on. It’s nice to know where your food is coming from, that it is truly organic — even if it’s just for your dog’s sake. And my mom made jam, canned peaches, and  frozen beans and peas. We had corn and other fresh produce in the summer, rhubarb, mint, dill, and tons of delicious apples that made so many crisps, pies, apple juice, and apple sauce.

But as Miranda Lambert sings ” [y] ou know they say you can’t go home again,” it’s the truth. That childhood home is no longer our home and only broken pieces of it remain in the yard and if I’m not mistaken, in the house. Still like Lambert’s song title, I believe ” it was the house that built me” and built my family into what we are today.

Writing 101 – The Red Sweater


www.optimalchiro.ie
http://www.optimalchiro.ie

A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.

Today’s twist: write the scene from three different points of view: from the perspective of the man, then the woman, and finally the old woman.

 

He hadn’t always wanted  a child. Michael found them messy and loud, a disturbance to his peace of mind. Then, Natalie became pregnant and the way he thought about a child changed. He could see her belly grow and feel the child kicking, a life force all her own saying, ” It’s me Dad. It’s me Mom. Are you out there?” Then the day came when Natalie started having large contractions and he drove her to the hospital excitedly proud that he would be a new Dad soon. The labour took hours and when the baby was born Natalie and Michael waited for it to give that first piercing cry of life, but the little one never cried. She didn’t move, she was still and remained still.

Walking through the park that day with Natalie the tiny red sweater reminded him of their lost baby and he wept. Was it his fault because he hadn’t wanted a baby in the first place that their little girl died?

Natalie watched her husband cry and at first, she didn’t know why. Mike was not an emotional man, she had rarely seen him cry except for maybe after she had given birth to a still-born child in the hospital. Then Natalie saw the little red sweater an old women was knitting and she understood why Michael wept. He was remembering the baby. She grimaced. Hours of labour and she had give birth to a lifeless doll. She didn’t understand why but the baby episode, all the preparations, the looking forward to the baby, the labour, had all made her feel numb. Natalie felt as if she didn’t exist as if her and Michael were 2 completely different people since that time 2-years ago. Mike had wanted another baby as soon as possible, she had shaken her head sadly at him and said, ” Maybe in a few years.” But Natalie didn’t know if a few years would ever come.

Grandma Florence sat happily knitting a little red sweater for her first grandchild. She was ecstatic and had even thought that none of her kids would have grandchildren, since they were all in their late 30’s anyways. She held up the tiny red sweater and a man walking by her with his wife begin to cry in earnest. Florence wondered why she holding up a little red sweater, would make anybody cry? Babies brought joy the world. They were the promise that life, that the world would continue with a piece of you in it. She shook her head absently, noticed she had goofed up the last stitch and went back to finishing the sweater on the bench. Her sparkling eyes and ruddy cheeks gave her the look of a grandma who was extremely happy and had never experienced what Natalie and Michael went through. She had other things to focus on.

Writing 101 – Ann and David’s House (from A Letter to Ann)


www.prudencefish.blogspot.com
http://www.prudencefish.blogspot.com

Ann left David’s beautiful 3 story 19th Century house as fast as she could.

She had always loved that house, loved how such history could be preserved and updated. She loved the wrap around porch where David and her had often sat on the outdoor couches and talked about their days, talked about their lives, and what they dreamed of doing in the future together.

She remembered how David had one day in the warm summer, strung up Christmas lights all around the porch and proposed marriage to her one night at sunset. She smiled as she remembered how they had sipped expensive champagne and gorged on gourmet chocolate in utter happiness and joy. Ann had sad “yes,” to David’s proposal and David had taken her in his arms and held her and Ann had felt that she was the most precious person in the world to David. That night had become part of their history and their future, or so Ann had thought.

She loved David’s house, their home. The cozy kitchen had been opened up and outfitted with the most updated appliances where David and her both laughed and cooked. She adored the master bath with its big claw foot tub where she would lie back and unwind after a particularly tense day at the office. She loved the large king sized bed where David and her could both stretch out and sleep without Ann pushing David to the corner of the bed as she spread out in the night. Ann adored waking up to David among soft, thick, and grey sheets and snuggling into him. On most mornings she would roll to David’s side of the bed and wake to kisses and busy hands.

The house had character as the people who inhabited it. Ann often felt the house was a reflection of herself more then David. The soft blue-grey walls in the bedroom were the color of her eyes, understanding and observant. The color and passionate art around the house were a mirror of her inner character, the way she felt around David. Her soft pink lips were the color of some slippery silk pillows in the living room, plush and welcoming. The color of her tanned skin was the same color as the comfy lazy boy David liked to relax in. Just as David was comfortable in that leather chair she was comfortable in her own skin.

The stalwart and geometric construction of the house were also a mirror image of her character steady and firm in her beliefs, something she was proud about herself for being, something David loved about her. The rounded furniture on the patio was a reflection of her body, one she was proud of. She kept her body in shape by running the paths that wrapped around the park in the area, yet as that plush furniture, her body still held a curvaceous shape. Walking away from David’s house felt as if Ann was walking away from herself.

David chased her down as she began the walk to her empty little condo 4 blocks away. “Stay,” he begged, “stay Ann, that little receptionist in their means nothing to me. She came here last night and I let her stay because her boyfriend was beating on her. I couldn’t  kick her out if he was doing that to her, Cameal, had bruises all over arms and legs…”

Ann pursed her pink lips, “She wants to separate us. That little red-head she’s always flirting with you at work and then I see her at your house? What am I a saint? How could I not think that she’s moving in on you after I find that letter right by your place? How could I not think you were sleeping with her after you were sleeping with me, when she shows up at your house and after all the attention you give her?”

“It’s not her I love,” David said making sure he caught Ann’s blue eyes, ” I don’t feel a thing for her, I just felt compassion for her problems. I thought she was just one of those flirty girls at work. I didn’t think she would actually show up at my door and I didn’t think well, that she could have possibly written that letter.”

” But nothing makes sense to me Ann, she wants you to leave, she’s doing it on purpose. I told her to find a friend’s house to stay at tomorrow night. She was hitting on me and when I turned her down she smacked me and makeup from one of the bruises came off on my face. She made the whole boyfriend hitting her story up, the bruises were fake, and I told her that it was inappropriate for her to be at our home any longer.” Ann sighed.

” I’m just not sure what to believe now David. I need to think.” David looked down to the pavement where he stood. He ran a frustrated hand through his inky air. He took Ann’s hand and kissed the diamond on her ring finger. “Remember this,” he said softly and left Ann to walk home alone in thought to her empty condo.

Writing 101 – A Letter to Ann


pinup-1The letter lay on the park path as if it had become part of the red, yellow, and brown leaves that surrounded it. The paper was of a thick colored stock that felt heavy in her hands and she opened it up carefully almost feeling weird about reading someone else’s private mail. It was written in business letter format and in messy handwriting. An address to the side read:

Ann Bennet

10456-105 Ave

Edmonton AB T5C 4E4

Under the address was a date September 27, 2014 followed by the body of the letter which stated that the letter writer (David) wished to end his relationship with Ann. He had met the love of his life and it wasn’t her. He wrote that he respected her and had enjoyed the time they spent together but that his new girlfriend was jealous and that Ann, his Assistant, could no longer be part of his personal life and if he she wished he would find her a new job, with better pay of course, in the company. The letter was signed David xoxo.

——–

Ann crumpled to the black pitch path beneath her. She wiped the sweat off her suddenly damp palms and stared ahead at David’s house where she had spent the night. She didn’t know what to do. Why was this letter written to her, Ann Bennet, at her address, lying on the park path by David’s house? They had been together for 4 years and she had thought that eventually they would end up marrying, that had been her end game — her happily ever after.

But now reading the letter a heaviness crept into her heart. Ann slowly got up off the pavement and hobbled towards David’s house, letter in hand. When she opened David’s patio door and crept inside the house, David was already eating breakfast and he smiled at her in that familiar way that Ann had come to love. He kissed her cheek and Ann’s tear escaped onto her cheek bone.

Ann thrust the letter into David’s hands with big sad questioning blue eyes. David gasped reading the letter quickly:

” I didn’t write this, there isn’t anyone else. You’re the only one I want,” he sputtered confused. But the red-head coming down the stairs in a beautiful wool navy shift dress made everything fall into place for Ann. She shook her head, and lifted her chin to the receptionist on the stairs believing nothing David tried to tell her.

” I’m going to get my things.” Ann said and David begged her not to. ” I would like a different job,” she whispered, ” I can’t be your assistant anymore.”

———
At the top of the stairs the seemingly saintly red-haired receptionist smiled and watched the love of David’s life walk out of his life. Things were going to change and it all begun with the wonderful letter she had left for Ann as Ann had taken her morning run.

No one knew that the receptionist had faked coming to David’s last night under the guise that her boyfriend was trying to hurt her, she knew David, wouldn’t send her away. Yes, things were going to change, and Ann was no longer an obstacle for the red-haired temptress at David’s firm.