Read The Bet (Addison #2) Online
Authors: Erica M. Christensen
The Bet (Addison #2)
THE BET
The Addison Series, Book Two
By Erica M. Christensen
The
Bet
Copyright © 2015 by Erica M. Christensen.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: May 2015
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-119-5
ISBN-10: 1-68058-119-8
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the risk takers, the jumpers and the leapers, and the dream chasers, for not sitting back and watching life pass you by. Keep taking risks, keep jumping and leaping, and keep chasing your dreams.
Table of Contents
What is that damn noise? I grab my pillow to place it over my ears, but notice the pillowcase is made of cheap cotton…not Egyptian cotton. It is
not
my pillow. There’s the noise again, the sound of knocking on a door. Following is a woman’s raspy voice shouting, “Housekeeping!” I jolt up and squint toward the window where a stream of light is shining through between the curtains. My head feels as if it it’s going to explode and I feel like I could blow chunks at any moment. I swing my legs up and out of bed and realize I’m completely naked.
Oh my God, what the hell did I get myself into last night?
I turn the lamp on next to the bed and find my clothes scattered on the floor from the hotel room door straight to the bed.
Fabulous
. The old lady shouts, “Housekeeping!” once more.
“Just a minute!” I kindly holler back. I throw on my clothes, grab my purse, and dig in it to find a hair tie, which is basically like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I swear I buy hundreds of these damn things and I can never find them when I need them. When I need bobby pins, I find a hair tie. When I need a hair tie, I find fucking bobby pins. I attempt to finger comb my rat’s nest and fail miserably. As I head for the door to leave I look around the room, hoping something will catch my attention and I’ll remember what happened last night. But of course, nothing does. The last thing I remember was making some stupid bet with a tattooed hot guy…well, from what I recall he was hot. Hell, who knows…maybe I was just seeing him through beer goggles.
Please God, please, tell me I did not sleep with him.
I get up to the desk to check out of the room and the short chubby woman with salt and pepper hair is talking on the phone.
“Okay, you’re all checked out. Thank you for staying with us, sir, we hope you enjoyed your stay.” The woman hangs up the phone and looks at me with a sour face.
“Are you checking out?” she asks bitterly.
“Yes, I’m checking out of room 221.” I glance at the woman’s name tag, Sandra. She looks a little puzzled.
“Sweetie, I just got off the phone with him and he already checked you guys out.” Who is
he
?
“Who checked us out of the room?” I question. Sandra looks at my hair and face in disgust.
“Have a great day, thanks for staying with us.” Sandra turns back to her computer screen. My phone starts ringing, it’s Shelly. Shit! I totally forgot I’m flying back today!
It doesn’t take a miracle to change someone. Change is a choice. You either want to be a better person or you want to be shit. Either way, you choose. The universe doesn't, you do.
I know I’m only twenty-four years old, but at the rate I’ve been going lately…my life is going to go nowhere. Drinking until I black out every single weekend, waking up in a lonely guy’s bed once or twice, maybe even six times, I don’t even know! Oh, and we work together, which makes everything awkward. What do I do this shit for? To fill some void in myself that’s still there in the morning along with the weight of regret and a pounding headache? It’s only been a little over three months since I’ve left Iowa and I’ve gone south in more ways than one. I
need
to change, I
want
to.
Luckily, I get my license back in about two and a half months. And after a little over a month of work I was able to save up enough money to move into my own place. It’s a bit small, but it’s pretty much perfect for me. My dream job is nothing I thought it would be. I wake up and dread going into work almost every damn day. The pay is nice, but that’s it. I get no satisfaction from the work I do…okay, maybe I do a little bit. Maybe I’m just bitter at the moment because I pissed off one of our biggest clients. But really…the long dreadful hours, the never-ending stress, the ungrateful clients, and the instant coffee I have to choke down because I’m too nice to my intern and don’t make her run for coffee every morning, is just not what I signed up for…especially the instant coffee, yuck.
“Addison?” My intern, Hilton, peeks around the door of my office. “May I bother you for a quick minute?” When I first saw that Hilton was coming to interview for the intern position, I thought she was going to be some tanned blonde bimbo Barbie wanna-be. Instead, I met Hilton. A quiet, polite, pale skinned, black haired, reserved girl who always has her nose stuck in a graphic novel.
“Sure.” I take a big mouth full of my horrendous coffee, which is at least semi-tolerable when it’s hot, but it’s cold now. I pull the trashcan out from underneath my desk and spit the atrocious liquid out. I wipe my mouth with my sleeve and look up at Hilton.
“What do you need?” I probably sound a little harsh…but this morning is just not off to a good start. Hilton fidgets with the buttons on her blood red cardigan. Her hand makes its way up to her coal black hair and she starts twisting a few strands. “Earth to Hilton.” I snap my fingers.
“I’m pregnant,” Hilton blurts out as she sits down in the grey pleather chair in front of my desk. Her head falls into her hands. “I don’t know what to do, Addison. You’re the only person I can trust with this right now.” She starts to get choked up. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t help her out with this. I knew I shouldn’t have been so nice to her all the time. She’s my intern, not my friend! What do I say, congratulations? I’m sorry? Do I give her a hug? Maybe a high five or a pat on the back? What the fuck…
“Okay.” That’s it, just okay. That’s all I can come up with at the moment. I pull a few tissues out of the box on my desk and walk around to her. “Here, you have some snot on your lip.” Hilton looks up at me and gives me a hopeless look. Her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks are flushed. “It’ll be okay.” I grab my coffee mug off my desk and walk out of my office.
Five o’clock can’t come soon enough, but until then I shall stroll down to the second floor to buy a Red Bull and a bag of Skittles from the vending machine. A very nutritious breakfast, if I do say so myself. As I pass by the tiny cubicles of interns and assistants I notice their sunken-in faces and the dark bags that hang from their eyes. They all resemble sad little pandas. In a way I feel bad for them, but at the same time, I had to endure all the shit they’re going through and I survived. Once I reach the doorway of the employee break room I notice Garrett standing at the coffee pot. Shit. I turn around fast to power walk away and trip over a piece of frayed carpet. “Ah shit!” I accidentally shout. Garrett’s head turns in my direction. He sees me right as I start walking away. Garrett runs out of the break room and catches up to me.
“Hey Addison, do you have a few minutes? Come have a cup of coffee with me.”
“I would, but I can’t right now. Shelly just called me about something really important and I have to go meet her in her office. Sorry,” I fib. I do everything I can to avoid Garrett at work. He happens to be the lonely guy from work that I’ve slept with a few times, more times than I want to admit, actually.
“Oh, really…She just left to go to a lunch with a client. But okay. I understand.” A look of disappointment covers his face. Garrett turns away and heads back into the break room. I knew it was a bad idea to start hooking up with someone I work with. I was under the impression we had a mutual agreement, though. We have to keep this on the down-low. It means nothing. He knows that. I walk back into the break room and sit my mug down on the counter by the coffee pot.
“Garrett…seriously. I didn’t mean to lie to you, I just didn’t want people to see us and start assuming shit.”
“Mmm hmm,” he mumbles.
“I just thought we had an understanding. Anything that happens outside of work stays outside of work.”
“I didn’t plan on throwing you up on the counter or bending you over that damn table and fucking your brains out. I just wanted to sit and have a damn cup of coffee with you, Addison. We’ve never done that outside of work.” He snatches his mug and goes over to the table to sit down. “I get it. You don’t want to be seen with someone like me. I’m so damn sorry I’m not a ripped model out of one of your shitty magazines.” He rubs the scruff on his face and takes a gulp of his coffee as if it’s not even scalding hot.
I’ve never heard him raise his voice before, and I’ve never heard him say fuck. Hell, when we’re having sex it’s never even felt like a fuck. It normally feels like nothing, at least for me, anyway. Obviously, I get off otherwise I wouldn’t hook up with him. But it isn’t anything spectacular by any means. Actually, maybe it is and I just don’t realize it because I’m always shit-faced when we do have sex. I honestly don’t know, which makes my curiosity pique. I must admit, seeing him get pissed off at me is pretty hot. No, he isn’t some ripped guy out of one of my magazines…but, it’s not that he isn’t attractive. He’s very attractive to me. Tall, average build, dark perfectly styled hair, black rimmed glasses, and normally he’s got a freshly shaven face but it looks as if he’s growing out his facial hair. Stubble covers his cheeks and jaw. He’s kind of nerdy looking, okay, he’s very nerdy looking. That’s not why I don’t want to be seen with him though…I just don’t want a relationship.
I pour a cup of hot coffee and stir in some hazelnut cream and sugar, then slowly walk over to Garrett’s table and sit down across from him. He remains silent and still as he reads a book about poker. I sigh and I look down at my fingernails and notice the chipped bright red polish and begin picking at them. Garrett mocks my sigh and flips a page in his book. I can’t help but giggle a little. I really know nothing about him, well, except that he works in the IT department here and we both hide out in the same low-key bar. I guess he likes coffee and is also into poker, he may even have a little bit of a sense of humor.
“You know you don’t have to sit here and drink your coffee with me out of sympathy. I’d really rather you leave and go about your day. Maybe you could even go sit in Shelly’s locked office and wait for her for the next hour to talk about your really important stuff,” Garrett says without looking up from his book. Ouch, I guess I deserve it though. I scoot the chair back, grab my coffee, and walk out of the break room.
To my surprise Hilton is still sitting in my office. She’s done sobbing, for now at least. I open up the blinds, then take a seat next to her.
“Sorry I’m still in here. I just feel kind of numb. I don’t want to move, honestly. I don’t even know if I can move. I don’t know what to think, feel, or do. I just want to sit here. Maybe somehow I’ll figure everything out in this uncomfortable chair.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support your decision.” I try my best to sound comforting. Hilton’s phone vibrates. After reading the message she starts to sob again. “Who is it?” I probably shouldn’t ask, but it just comes out. She throws me her phone and I read the text message.
Babe <3: I don’t want a damn kid Hil. Hopefully you lose it and we don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll pay for the abortion. You decide it’s me or the fucking baby!
I really don’t even know what to say to her…I can’t even begin to imagine how she feels.
“If it counts for anything, I grew up without a dad. My mom and I did just fine,” I confess. Hilton starts crying harder. I figured that would help the situation, but I guess I’m wrong.
“Will you go to my first appointment with me, Addison, please?” She begs. How could I say yes? I can’t go to a doctor appointment with her. We’re not close at all. I don’t know why she’s confiding in me. There’s no way I can go. I have to think of a polite way to say no.
“Of course I will. When is it?”
“Tomorrow.”