Free The Parking Space by Angela Archer

top.
    The icing on the cake to this horrible day, ladies and gentleman, another woman’s boobs.
    Hearing her moans of pleasure sent heat flushing through my skin, burning it several shades of red and I fled back inside my apartment, shutting the door behind me with more force than I meant.
    Seriously? He’s outside for the whole world to see.
    “Um, I’ll have to check with Michael in the morning, but I really don’t think he’ll have a problem with it.”
    “And none of your clients will mind?”
    “No, I think they’ll be okay. I’ll give them a call in the morning, too.”
    She laughed. “Are you sure about that? I mean, will all your clients be okay?”
    “If anyone needs to see a listing or has any questions, I’ll have Jason handle it. He owes me a couple of favors after I helped him with some title work.”
    “Yeah, but will he want to deal with Reece?”
    I closed my eyes. I hated not telling Lisa about what happened, but right now, in this moment, I didn’t want to talk about it nor hash out the details of what had happened. With the disappointment so fresh in my mind, the bitterness began to sting and my eyes misted with tears.
    “He’ll be fine.” I brushed off my emotions. “So Wednesday, huh?”
    “Yes, for six glorious days we will bask in the sun, drink fruity, out-of-this-world cocktails and I shall walk down the beach and become Mrs. Ben Hogan.” With the last of her words, she squealed.
    “Yes, yes, you will.” I laughed. “Okay. Well, wow. I guess I’ll start packing then.”
    “Ah, packing. I’ve already started mine. Don’t forget, lots of shorts, tank tops, and bikinis.”
    Bikinis? A shopping trip might be in order tomorrow after work, too.
    “Will do.”
    “I’ll call you tomorrow with more details. It’s late and I’m exhausted. Night.”
    “Night.”
    I hung up the phone and plopped on the couch for a third time. The whirlwind of the day fought with a range of misery and excitement all at the same time. From a horrible showing, to talking to Tom, to getting fired, to losing my future plans, and finally to watching my bare-chested hot, annoying as hell, neighbor engage in sexy foreplay that I so desperately desired . . .
    I closed my eyes and sipped on my glass of wine. The burgundy and berry flavors washed over my tongue. Charlie meowed from the floor, and with one swift jump, purred as he tiptoed across the couch and forced his way onto my lap.
    “And what should I do with you?” I asked him, scratching behind his left ear. “A weekend here and there is nothing, but I don’t think you’ll be okay for seven days. I guess I’ll call Bayside in the morning to see if you can stay with them for the week.”
    A whole week.
    A whole week while I’m on vacation.
    A whole week on vacation in Bora Bora.

SEVEN
    THE TINY PLANE bounced and jerked as the wings cut through a few fluffy clouds. I detested flying—hated the cramped seating, the turbulence, the lack of control, the height, the feeling that if something were to happen that the strangers around me would be the last people I’d see. Of course, the thought proved totally morbid to think about, but I did just the same.
    Lisa and Ben sat across the aisle from me; their smooching, happy behavior played like that of any couple on their way to their destination wedding.
    Behind them, her parents talked and held hands, while behind me, Ben’s parents snuggled as they gazed out of the window. Bringing up the rear of our group, Jeff and Tracy were far too engrossed in their hour-long make-out session to pay attention. In fact, I doubted they even knew we were about to land.
    With my ear buds lodged in each ear, my music blared as my fingers flipped through the pages of one of the half-dozen gossip tabloids I bought at the San Francisco airport. Countless stories of who’s cheated on whom, who’s making out with whom, and who’s on vacation in some wild destination wearing a bikini that has the material equivalent of