Chapter Two

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“Whitney!” I cry out, “ I am in need of mental health examination! Please tell me why I just shut the elevator door on a man who could be the next GQ model?” I shut the door behind me and throw my keys on the little side table in the entrance hallway.

“Well, obviously Selena, it means you are a lunatic. Plus the fact you have declared your nonsensical ‘No-Love’ policy.” I hear Whitney’s familiar British accent sound from somewhere within the apartment. “I mean seriously, you’re not even going to try and get a boyfriend?  We are young, and very much single may I add.”

“Hush, hush Whitney.” I walk into her room and see her sitting on the floor painting her nails. “Aww, that color looks good on you.” The truth is, any color would look good on Whitney, she had that type of body that makes her look good in anything that she wears.  She had perfect  peach coloured skin and would change her contacts according to what color she wanted her eyes to be for that week. This week: Aqua blue. She is also the only person I trusted enough to tell about my past, a long very tearful conversation, but it felt good to have someone know the real me.

“Thanks love, so how was prancing around naked last night?” She asked referring to my job, even she knew that I hated that place but it was only temporary. Until I could at long last find the job in business, hopefully fashion business, that I have been wishing and dreaming for.

“Horrible,” I plop down on her bed and bury my face into her pillow’ “there was a bachelor party. It was disgusting.”

“Lena,” she said with a sigh, “ I know that you can’t possibly think that I can understand you when you are mumbling into the pillow.”

I got up and push my hair out my face, “I said it was horrible. There was a horrid man who had a bachelor party last night, and he spent all night trying to get into my knickers!” I feigned my best British accent while grinning stupidly. Whitney was trying her best to keep a frown on her face, but I could see a smile creeping into her features.

“That was the worst accent you’ve done yet!”

“Well, I’m sorry chap, but I have to go to the lavatory so I can wash up and go find a job that I don’t have to show off my bum to keep!” I walk out with my nose in the air to the sound of Whitney’s laughter and head to my room.  I open the door and instantly my nose fills with the smell of my favorite PINK spray and the faint smell of cigarettes. I drop my purse at the end of the bed, and immediately reach in for my pack of smokes and hot pink lighter. Smoking was one of the bad habits I had picked up after my parents left me.

I walked out to the door that lead to a small deck that connect my and Whitney’s room together and lean against the metal bar while lighting up. I take a swig as I hear one of the other apartment doors opening, and a man walks out wearing a familiar suit. I gasp, and then regret it as I start choking on the smoke, causing the man to turn around and look at me. Oh Shit, it was him, the guy I closed the door on, I tried to look down before I made eye contact with those insanely beautiful hazel eyes... but I was too late.

He frowned at me, “Hey, are you okay?”

I hack some more before I can manage to get any words out, “Yeah, I’m super...” I wheezed.

The frown didn’t go away, “You definitely don’t sound ‘super.’”

“Oh, don’t worry about lil ole me,” I say after catching my breath again and straightening up, “but, I’m sorry about earlier, with the elevator door and everything, I had a bad day at work, and I wasn’t thinking.”

He smiles a smile that could blind a crowd, “Oh yeah, don’t worry bout it. I figured you weren’t having too hot of a morning .”

I calmly inhale the cigarette, blow out the smoke, and smile. “Thanks for understanding, I’ve been feeling bad ever since I got up here.” He laughed, and smiled back at me.

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