Their Paid Girl

          There are many ways to wake up in the morning, some more pleasant than others. But let’s just say that waking up to a heart attack is pretty far down on the list of enjoyable mornings, somewhere next to resurrection by water.

          The sudden loud pounding on the door made even Esther jolt upwards, panic, then fall in a heap to the floor, tangled in her blankets. The door promptly opened and Adam stuck his head in, looking exasperated when he saw me still in bed, sitting and staring at him with frozen, wide eyes.

          “Congratulations on assuming a vertical position,” he praised me sarcastically. “But someone  was supposed to be downstairs in the parking lot forty minutes ago.”

          “Who?” I asked, because complete idiocy has its way with me every morning.

          Adam gave me a flat look, just as Esther finally found a hole in her blanket and popped her head out.

          “Oh hey, Adam,” she said casually, now struggling to get to her feet.

          “Hey,” he responded, watching her in amusement. “Get moving,” he ordered me, letting himself in and sitting down on the edge of my bed like he owned the place.

          “Excuse me,” I said pointedly, hiking my blankets up to my chin, “Get off the bed.”

          “Isn’t that what I just said?” he retorted, using his ridiculous arm strength to nudge me out so that both Esther and I ended up on the floor.

          I glared at him, trying to remember ever inviting him to go anywhere, until it dawned on me that he had volunteered to drive me to see Angel today. That explained things.

          “Can you at least wait outside until I get dressed?” I asked in a nicer tone, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. It got tangled in about a dozen knots and I sighed, admiring Adam for not running when confronted by my bed-head.

          “No, I’m pretty comfortable, thanks.”

          Esther snickered as she finally made it up. “Trust me when I say that there’s nothing to see here,” she told Adam, and both of them laughed at my expense.

          I turned red, thinking that it was way too early in the morning for me to have to deal with both Adam and Esther being in the same room. “Oh shut up, both of you,” I muttered, yanking a pair of jeans and a plaid farmer-type shirt from my closet. Esther eyed my clothing choice with hostility, looking like she wanted nothing more than to burn everything I was holding and stuff me into something frilly.

          I made a face at her and dodged into the bathroom, slamming the door. I heard Esther and Adam talking with each other behind the door and I pressed my ear to it, hoping I could make something out. No such luck.

          Sighing, I turned to get dressed and had to stifle a scream when I caught sight of my reflection in our bathroom mirror. Good God.

          I examined my reflection and contemplated not ever coming out. How could I face Adam after he’d seen me like this?

          Groaning, I got dressed, then attacked my head with my brush, trying to hurry along as I knew Adam was waiting for me, and that he wasn’t exactly the patient type.

          I brushed my teeth with one hand while applying mascara with the other – a necessary skill I’d acquired since I tended to be late wherever I went – and then I was bolting out of the bathroom and frantically stuffing things into my purse. Adam was stretched out on my bed, watching me as I hurried back and forth, trying to remember where I’d last left my wallet.