Free Running From Destiny by Christa Lynn Page B

Have I told you yet that I am not a morning person? Well I’m telling you now. I reach over and slam my hand on the snooze button, but I hit it too hard and damn if the pain doesn’t wake me up. I glare at it. Yep. Five o’clock. Shit. I kick the covers off and roll my way off of the bed and traipse to the shower. I slept good I guess, no dreams of The Suit or our unusual weekend, which is a good thing.
    Since I work downtown, I have to leave especially early to be i n the office by eight o’clock. Traffic in the Atlanta area sucks balls with morning rush hour running from seven a.m. to nine a.m. and evening goes from four p.m. to seven p.m. It should be called rush hours instead of hour. Oh well, I have been here all my life, so I guess I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean I like it.
    I get in my little ole beat up Honda Civic and pray it cr anks after sitting all weekend. Thankfully, it does. Trusty little bastard. It’s a 2002 model, eleven years old, but it was a graduation present and until I make Project Manager, it will have to do. I can’t afford a new car just yet.
    As I merge on to I85 South toward the city, I can see up ahead that traffic is already heavy. Welcome to Monday. Thankfully school is out, so it's lighter than normal, but still heavy. Wait until August, then prepare to leave your house at least an hour earlier just to get there in time.
    I pull into the parking garage at Robertson Industries 45 minutes later, and make my way to the 14th floor and my tiny cubicle. I have some personal things on the desk and pictures on the wall, trying to make it more homey and comfortable. It’s nothing that wouldn’t take a few seconds to remove should the economy decide I no longer have a job. I’ve put my purse away and clocked in, so I stand to go to the kitchen to get some coffee when Tim Fraker, my boss, makes his way to my desk.
    “Good morning, All y. How was your trip to Miami? Fun I hope?” He asks, all smiley and happy. Too happy for a Monday morning, if you ask me. “It was fine. Warm and sunny. Heather was awesome in the fashion show, but I ended up with a migraine so I missed the big party.” I tell him, not mentioning anything else. It’s not his business.
    “Well, sorry about the migraine, glad you had fun anyway. When you get settled, head into my office will ya?”
    “Sure thing b oss man.” I smile back at him.
    Great, an early Monday meeting. This usually means some big project has fallen on his plate and he needs to start now. Not tomorrow or next week. Now. Fabulous. I pull a Hazelnut K-Cup from my bottom desk drawer and grab my mug and head to the kitchen. Only one other person is in there, Sally. Oh. Freaking. Joy.
    Sally Davenport is Ed McKinley’s admin assistant and is too bubbly for her own damned good. She’s the office gossip queen and pretends like her life is awesome. Not sure if it is really, I only half listen to her most of the time because she’s extremely annoying. Have I told you I am not a morning person? She is definitely not the person I want to see this early on a Monday, but I hold in my groan. “Morning Sally.” I say, deliberately leaving out the Good portion of it.
    “Top of the morning to y a, Ally. How was your weekend? Have fun in Miami? Meet any cute guys?” She squeals at me. What is this, twenty questions?
    “Good, yes and no.” There. I've answered all of her questions.
    “So, spill! What’s happening in Miami?” She’s still at it. Geez.
    “Miami, is....Miami. It was a fashion show and drinks. Nothing much else to tell, Sally. What about your weekend?” I ask, though I really don’t care. I know she is going to tell me anyway, so I pretend to be interested.
    “Oh , just clubbing with the girls. Woke up with a massive hangover Sunday morning, but I’m over it now. Ready to rinse and repeat this weekend. You wanna go?”
    “Nah, I don’t g et into the club scene anymore. Hey, sorry to cut this short but I have a meeting with Tim.