Brea Lancaster may have been born in the country, but she is a city girl through and through. She is stylish, influential, and loves the excitement that the party life has to offer. When she receives a call from her brother, who she hasn't spoken to...
I order our usual coffee before migrating towards a table near the window. I drop into the seat, my long blonde hair spilling across my face. The force of my breath blows the strands across my eyes.
As the minutes tick by, I scroll through my phone, checking my socials. I've finished my entire coffee and still no sign of Mitch. Now, I'm in an even worse mood.
I grip his untouched coffee so hard that the lid pops off. The hot liquid spills over the edge, burning my fingers. Grumbling, I toss it into the closest bin and stride into work with a look of fury etched onto my face.
When I get to his office, our co-worker, Belinda—'Linny' for short, which I think is really fucking stupid—is nestled between his legs as she leans towards him flirtatiously. An easy grin is spread across the face that was only hovering above me the night before last, telling me how beautiful he thought I was. The only time he ever gave me a compliment was when he was inside me.
I purposely hit the door on my way past so that it bangs harshly against the wall. Linny startles, throwing herself out of his lap when she registers the scowl on my face.
"Good morning, Brea," she quickly mumbles, hightailing out of Mitch's office, the heavy musk of her perfume washing over me as she does.
"Hi baby," Mitch says, acting as though having another woman between his legs when he was supposed to be with me is not something to be acknowledged. "You wear these just for me?"
I furrow my brows, until I realise I forgot to put my contacts in. God damn it. I have never worn my glasses to the office. Especially since Mitch always says they make me look like a Librarian in the beginning of a p*rnography video.
"Fuck you." I spit at him, everything I had planned to say flying out the window as rage bulldozes through me with vengeance.
A crease appears between his brows as he looks painfully confused for a moment before his face falls.
"Coffee! Shit! I totally forgot."
"You made the plans literally thirty minutes prior to the meet up. How the fuck are you that brain dead to forget that?" A scoff leaves him at my insult. "What? Too much c*caine and molly in your system to remember you have a girlfriend, too?"
"Keep your voice down!" Mitch hisses, jumping to his feet and swiftly closing the door, casting a nervous look over his shoulder down the hallway. Usually, I'm much more careful of how I act and what I say when I'm at work, but all rationale has apparently abandoned me.
"Don't bother closing the door, I'm not planning to stay."
"Don't be dramatic," he rolls his eyes, doing the classic Mitch move of making it seem like I'm crazy. He's exceptional at that. He reaches out, his fingers skimming down my arm. I recoil from his touch.
"You don't get to not come home last night, stand me up, flirt with another woman, and still touch me."
Letting go, he steps back, having the audacity to laugh. "Yeah. Righto. Where's my coffee, by the way?"
My hand strikes across his cheek so fast, I hear the slap of my skin hitting his before I register what I did. He stumbles back in shock, a red welt immediately appearing on his pale skin.
Shock battles with rage on his face as he glares at me, holding his cheek.
"In case you didn't get the memo, we're done," I hiss through my teeth, feeling my hands tremble.
The door slams behind me as I march down the hall, ignoring the curious stares of the other workers around me. When I'm at my desk, I sink into the seat, my head in my hands.
This is a lot to happen before 8 a.m.
A knock on my office door draws me out of my thoughts. Ronan, the CEO and biggest douchebag of the century, stands there, his wide shoulders almost filling the entire perimeter of the doorway.
"I need those reports." He says, not looking up from his phone.
"Good morning to you," I automatically say as his words sink into my brain. My insides tense, and I squeeze my eyes shut. "Oh, fuck."
With everything that happened this morning, I completely forgot to grab the reports that are needed for the meeting.
He lifts his eyes, pinning with me his gaze. "Don't say you don't have them."
Gulping, I give him my most charming smile I can muster. "Oops?"
The silence is thick and suffocating as he glares down his nose at me.
"You have twenty minutes to get them on my desk, or you're done here."
The air leaves my lungs. Before I get a chance to form a sentence, the door is slammed so hard that it rattles on its hinges. I scramble to my feet and race out the door like my life depended on it.
In a way, it does.
An hour later, I'm in my car, crying off all the makeup I spent an hour painting on my face. I managed to lose my job and my boyfriend in one day. Awesome.
Exhaling a heavy breath, I wipe away the tears, wrap up the sandwich, and clear my throat, trying to centre myself. I pull out my phone and check the message that's been pressing on my mind ever since I got the call.
"Brea." Goose bumps scatter across my skin and I close my eyes, resting my head back. My brother's voice may be deeper and rougher than it was a few years ago, but I would know it from anywhere. "Dad had an accident." There's a weighted silence. My blood roars in my ears. "It's time for you to come home."
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