Free Naomi & Bradley, It All Comes Down… (Vodka & Vice, the Series Book 1) by Angela Conrad, Kathleen Hesser Skrzypczak Page A

run.  He likes variety, wants to have lots of babes, tie them up to bedposts, and whip them a little?  Then, go for it Bradley, play your new game of fifty shades of stupid.  I accept defeat.  Bradley could not have been plainer.  He admitted to cheating on me for over a month, and not only did he show no remorse, but he thought it was funny.  He’d even planned to flaunt his new girlfriend to me at the theater, to shame me in front of a Broadway crowd.  He was not only breaking up with me, but also scheming my public humiliation.  Who does that?
    Damn asshat!
    Anger simmers.
    I fume.
    My crying jags are over and I realize it’s time to act.
    Yesterday was a busy and productive day.
    I called Gus from downstairs, and had him take all of Bradley’s things down to our storage space in the basement of the building.  If my old boyfriend knew what was good for him, he’d move in with the new redhead and collect his things before the bugs and rats got into his designer clothes.  I don’t feel guilty in the least for moving them there.  No way am I looking at his collections, personal items, or clothes every time I turn around.
    I force myself to move forward.
    I color my hair, using the blackest shade in the store.  I come out looking like a Native American.  I love it.  I trim it off straight and add short pieces around my face.  I also dye my brows darker, and the deep chestnut shade brings out my blue-gray eyes and white teeth. 
    Yes, better.
    And different.
    I look in the mirror and grin with joy.
    Naomi Swanson is gone.  Her dull paleness and blonde bland are no longer present.  The old Naomi was unwanted, uncherished.  She was easy to forget and replace.  I will finally become the stronger part of myself.  I throw the old insecurities away with the scraps of my clipped hair.
    I am a warrior.  A survivor.  An empty shell, someone never loved is gone now, and I build new strength out of my anger, disappointment, and hurt.
    The anvil has fallen, but I’m still alive.
    Bradley left me for another woman, like I knew he would.  Next time I’ll be smarter, choose more wisely, not let my heart rule my head.
    A realization hits me.  I still dress like my mother coached me as an adolescent.  Matching, coordinating, professional, proper, and dull.  I’m a young woman, but I look like a schoolteacher in a rural town. 
    I sort through my closet and toss away most of my things.  No more knee-length work skirts, no button-down blouses, no blazers, or plain basic heels for me anymore.  Gone are the black, the dark browns, and the cream.  Carl Swartz’s dress code and my mother’s strict combinations of womanhood ensembles now lay in the dumpster down in the alleyway.
    I go online and scan all the coolest clothing stores.  Places I’ve always avoided in the past.  I watch my spending, but I find several bargains, discounts, and sales.  I place several orders.
    I display my collection of radical jewelry, the only nice gifts my mother ever gave me.  I’ve never worn any of them, until now.  Overlarge earrings, bangles and bracelets, belts woven from leather straps, everything I once thought gaudy is now center stage on my dresser. 
    Next, I remove her Italian scarves from a box and hang them up.  I place all my skinny jeans first and foremost in my now spacious closet, now that his stuff is gone, and grin.  It looks foreign, messy, exciting, and nothing like me.
    This sunny, Monday morning, I call Carl Swartz’s office, his personal number, and leave a message.  I knew he will not be in this early.  I have no desire to hear his reptilian voice ever again.
    “Mr. Swartz, I’m calling to let you know I’m resigning my position as your employee, effective immediately.  Thank you for all the opportunities you have so graciously offered me these past five years, all the hints, suggestions, and requests especially noted.  After careful consideration, I’ve decided I have no interest in