Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Hi, Millie. Did you have a good day, dear?”
“It was fine, thank you. How’s the corn on your foot?”
I shouldn’t know about Hazel’s corn, but she likes to tell me about all of her ailments.
“What’s that?”
She must have her hearing aid turned down, so I point to my own ear, and she hurries to adjust her volume.
“How’s the corn on your foot?” I repeat.
“Oh, I went to the podiatrist yesterday. They took it out. It’s sore today, but I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
“Well, you go take it easy, Hazel. I’ll see you later.”
I let myself inside and toss my keys and purse on the floor by the door, kick out of my shoes, and walk straight past all the packed boxes to my bedroom, where I strip out of the clothes I’ve worn all day and then flop down on the bed, naked.
I like being naked. Not in a pervy, exhibitionist kind of way, but I don’t like tight clothing, and when I’m at work, I have to wear jeans and T-shirts, and they feel like straitjackets. I can’t wait for summer, when I can wear loose summer dresses on my days off.
If I get any days off.
After throwing my arm over my face, I start to feel guilty about closing up the shop tomorrow. It’s a Friday, and I should stay open. It’s not quite tourist season yet, so we’re not swamped, but still.
It’s not exactly a good business decision to just close up on a Friday. But damn it, I’m ready to move to the cute little house just a couple of blocks away.
I knew when I bought the coffee shop almost two years ago that it would be a big undertaking. That it would mean long hours and that it’s not easy to keep workers year-round in a ski resort town. But man, I didn’t realize that it would be this hard. I hope Candy’s friends work out, because if they do, I’ll be covered for the summer.
“Okay, no more work.” I rub my hands over my face and blow out a breath. “You’re taking the next thirty-six hours off. You’re going to be productive. You’re going to finish selling the rest of the furniture and get all the boxes moved over, and then you’re going to clean the fridge.”
I wrinkle my nose. I don’t want to clean the fridge.
I must fall asleep because the next thing I know, I open my eyes, and I’m cold. I have goose bumps all over my body because I didn’t crawl under the covers after getting naked and throwing myself onto the mattress.
Deciding that I need a shower anyway, I pad into the bathroom and start the water. Thirty minutes later, I’m warmed up, my face is clean, and I’m no longer super tired.
I hate napping late in the day. I’ll be up all night now.
“I need a drink.” Staring at myself in the mirror, I brush on a little mascara and lip gloss, brush out my hair, and then pull on a white blouse that I like, along with a pair of dark-wash denim.
I’m taking myself out for a drink.
Typically, I wouldn’t want to go alone, but I know that all four of my best friends, who happen to be married to my brothers, are busy tonight. They all have kids, and they can’t just leave at the drop of a hat. Sure, my brothers wouldn’t mind, but it’s not considerate of me to just call them up and be like, Come on, bitches, let’s go get hammered.
So, a night out alone it is.
I’ll inevitably see someone that I know anyway, and we’ll have a beer and chat, and then I’ll walk home, and all will be well.
After sliding my feet into a new pair of Adidas and grabbing my bag and keys, I lock the door behind me and walk the couple of blocks to The Wolf Den.
Surprisingly, I recognize most of the faces here, and I can’t help but grin when I belly up to the bar where Brenda, a gal I went to school with, waves at me excitedly.
“Hey, Mill,” she says. “What can I getcha?”
“Tequila. Straight up. No training wheels.”
Her eyebrows climb into her bleach-blonde hair. “It’s like that, is it?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s like that. Hook me up, Bren.”
“You got it.” She pours the drink and passes it to me, and I swallow it in one gulp, then pass the glass back to her. “Another. I’ll sip this one.”
She pours again, and I turn on the stool to look around the bar. The Wolf Den is the hot spot in town, where locals and tourists alike come to eat, drink, and socialize. I love it when the five of us girls come and order just about everything on the menu to help soak up our huckleberry margaritas.