**THIS BOOK IS ON HOLD UNTIL I'M DONE WRITING LOVE CONSEQUENCES** Linda Baxter's trust fund makes life easy, but she learned that things in pretty packages are not worth her time. By twenty-nine, she tried marriage, fabricated a fake relationship, a...
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The library branch I work at is a half-hour walk or a five-minute ride from my apartment complex. Before my father tested my survival skills, riding in the back seat of my car would've been the only way of getting to work. How has my life changed. . .Walking has become my preferred method of getting places. I've had more exercise because of it than over the last year. The only walking I've done before was in five inches or higher to compensate for being the shortest member of my family.
Flats exist in my closet, but they were not getting out of it frequently. With a budget and a possibility of running into Artem in the morning, walking seemed a rather appealing option. If I am to have elevated heart rate this morning, it better be from my feet pounding the pavement and not me watching Artem's biceps move as he carries things.
A vision of Artem lifting a suitcase over his head and raising his eyebrow rushes into my mind. Why is he even doing it? My libido and my imagination are in full war-mode with my restraint. I shake my head to dislodge the distracting tableaux and finish tying my laces. Plus, I have been rather happy with my Yeezys and switching into proper heels at work isn't at hard.
The seven-thirty morning Chicago air is nippy, and not crisp and pleasant like it'll be in the afternoon. The cars and buses crawl by, wrestling to get through the already yellow light, as if the five extra minutes they'll spend at the light are going to ruin their day.
The chatter of people around me is like having my driver flip between the radio stations. The woman in the purple dress is ordering flowers for a cousin's wedding, white earbuds sticking out of her ears, the sole indication she's not talking to herself. From a man in a dark blue, well-tailored mid-level suit, I find out that the Cubs took the opener of the series. The two women in gym clothes and hoodies reassure each other that the new cycling instructor in the downtown club was worth the wait. Walking among the office workers rushing to their early meetings feels like I'm part of the anthill, and not an outsider observing the events from the window of my car.
Through the sounds of the busy street, the thoughts about Artem knock around my head, impossible to ignore. His offer last night seemed like a perfectly reasonable one. In the light of the new day, I'm questioning his motivations and how much under the influence of my hormones vs common sense I was yesterday. The phrase 'keep your friends close, but your enemies closer' comes to mind. I take a deep breath and exhale loudly enough for an elderly man I'm trying to pass on the sidewalk to give me a lingering glance.
Is Artem an enemy? He sure felt that way when we met, and the knowledge that Brenda and him are an item is a thorn in my side, but it's not like I have to see her, and reminding myself of their relationship is better than a cold shower for those raging hormones of mine. And this is not even about Artem. I'm just in that phase of the cycle, and with worrying about the money and prepping for Merida's workshop, I just forgot my body has needs, and it's choosing Artem's good looks to remind me of my oversight. Nothing a night at one of my favorite nightclubs won't solve. Need to add that to my budget and my calendar.
