Tainted Love: A Lovestruck Novella, Book 1 Read Online Free

the point!” I remark, as I stand from my chair, ready to escape the evasive interrogation.
    “On the contrary, I think you’re missing… the point ,” Mallory jokes, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
    “Don’t you have work to do, slacker?” I ask, as I start to head back toward the hallway.
    “Okay, pot, have you met kettle?” she shouts in response as I make my retreat.
    Back in my office, or my boss’s office, I flop back into his big chair. And after a minute of deliberation on what I should do now, I pick up the phone to call the garage where I left my car and keys because they were still closed when I came to work.
    “ Andrews’ ,” a man’s deep voice answers, heavy with a sigh of annoyance. Alrighty then. 
    “Hi, I dropped off my El Camino this morning, and I was wondering when you might be able to –”
    The jerk starts howling like a maniac into my ear, interrupting me. “ Ryan…Blake…It’s the chick who lost the door ,” I hear his muffled voice say on the other line, before it’s answered with, “ A chick drives this old motherfucker? No way !”
    “I didn’t lose my door. Some asswipe ripped it off when I pulled over for…for an emergency on the side of the road,” I clarify. “So when will it be ready?”
    “Sorry, toots, but doors don’t magically reattach themselves. And with all the dings and scrapes, it’s gonna have to be repainted. But seeing as it’s old as fuck, I don’t think we can match it. You’ll probably need to take it to a body shop and have them redo the whole fucking thing.”
    “Watch your mouth,” I tell him sternly, even if it is hypocritical since I’m the first one to hurl the f-bomb when I get pissed, which is pretty much daily. Thankfully, my boss is also a fan of the word. But this guy on the phone has some seriously shitty customer service skills.
    “Or what?” the man asks. “You gonna bend me over your knee and spank me?” Hoots and hollers erupt in the background while I gasp at the clear sexual undertones of his statement, affronted and, yes, mildly turned on. I blame it entirely on my long drought since I don’t even know what this man looks like. He’s probably hideous.
    “Look you…you, prick,” I stammer, trying to find my words after he leaves me flustered. “Are you gonna fix my door or not?”
    “Calm your tits, woman,” he says, making me scoff. Who does this asshole think he is?
    “Calm. My. Tits?” I repeat slowly so he can hear and understand that I’m clearly offended. There’s a hot flush spreading rapidly across my face, and I feel feverish with rage.
    “Yeah, calm your tits. You left your cell, house and work numbers, along with your email address on the drop box envelope. We’ll call when it’s ready. Probably gonna be another day, maybe two.”
    “What am I supposed to do until then?” I mutter, mostly to myself, but the prick answers.
    “Not my problem,” he replies before he hangs up on me.
    I stare at the receiver still in my hand, unable to comprehend what the hell just took place. For a few minutes, I debate whether or not I should go get my car and take it somewhere else, but quickly decide against it. It’s Monday, and every shop in town is probably jam-packed with weekend breakdowns. If it’s not ready in two days, I’ll go get it from the jerk, report his rude, sexist comments to his manager and take my baby somewhere else. Until then, I guess I’ll have to hitch rides.
    Sighing in defeat, I decide to waste more time surfing the web. When my boss still hasn’t rolled in at noon, I walk downtown with my co-workers to the State Street Grill . It’s one of about two restaurants us girls can afford. The rest of downtown caters to the rich businessmen and their clients, offering entrees at a minimum of forty dollars a pop. Burgers and fries it is!
    “So, tell us about this looovvvee potion,” Mallory prompts after the four of us order our food and sit down at one of the empty round tables