Right Imperfections |✔ [Book 1 of Runaway Bride Series]

14. Define Love

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So, I'm gonna do what I love to do... Happy Reading Folks.

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McKenna

Monday mornings are my favourite thing in the world. I don't know why people had that terrible notion of Monday Blues honestly I think I suffered from Sunday Blues because I had to spend an entire day at home learning the pointless art of a lot of pointless things.

The elevator doors slid open on my floor and I glided out feeling the warm - albeit stuffy and carbon dioxide infested - air rush around me. This was heaven.

Not the heat that was wafting from a god damned pre heated oven that would only conclude in a blackened burnt roast that tasted like ash.

Mother had a new mission - an approach to being a regular middle class woman so she could be a bigger inspiration to the masses. So, I was stuck all Sunday trying to master the one skill I was born without. At this point I'm pretty sure I was born with a skill - a skill to negate that other skill.

I wasn't born to be a homely woman. Domesticity wasn't in my veins and I was well aware of that. I was wild and untameable, that's alright, right?

I breezed into my office and saw Nat working away at my desk, arranging files, updating calendars and answering calls.
But as soon as she heard me enter her body froze and the small frown that was playing on the corner of her lips disappeared.

"Uh. Morning Ms. Rod- McKenna."

"Morning to you, too, Nat. Who killed your kitten?"

I placed my handbag on my table and grabbed the hot mug of coffee on my desk.

"Excuse me?" She stuttered.

"Why do you look worse for wear, honey?" I softened my tone watched her visibly relax, her shoulders sagging.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't look like it."

"Yes, yes, McKenna I'm totally alright."

"You didn't look too happy when I walked in, that's all." I sat down and she shuffled some sheets on my table.

"No, it's just that... Uhm, my weekend wasn't all that great." She finally relented and collapsed on the seats on the opposite side.

"Uh, tell me about it!" I complained and cracked the locked bones in my neck from standing too long kneading dough into a pulp and my fist.

"You too?" She asked, incredulous. She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table.

"Have you met my mother? You obviously don't know what true torture is until you meet her."

She smiled sympathetically and nodded, "she doesn't look like a very friendly person."

"God, Nat no, even her shadow isn't friendly. It has claws and hoofs." I growled and remembered the poor dough I was trying to kneed into shape as I imagined my mother's face on it.

She nodded and then rested back in her chair, "I had a terrible experience yesterday." She said with a long, heavy sigh.

"What happened?"

"I slept with a guy at a bar on Saturday night. And believe me - " she threw her hands up with palms facing me as she defended her stand, "he was an amazing guy. A perfect gentleman and spoke so well." She stopped but the stormy expression on my face was set in stone,
"But he was a stranger from a bar!"