Page 4 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

I sat bolt upright. “Tomorrow?!”

“Just a little event. Do you know how to make cocoa?”

“I know how to pour powder into hot water.”

She laughed. “You’ve got a lot to learn.” She grinned. “Good thing I’m here to teach you.”

I got up and grabbed two of the suitcases in the foyer filled with clothes and shoes. I’d realized there were different levels of rock bottom. I had thought I hit rock bottom when I gave away the last of my furniture. Selling it quickly would have required me to meet someone from the internet in the real world, and there was no way I was risking my life for a few bucks.

I dragged the suitcases down the hall to my old room and groaned when I saw the posters of Harry Styles still up on the walls. That felt like a lifetime ago, not a mere decade.

Ten years ago, I sat in this room and planned my great escape to New York. I busted my ass to get a scholarship to Syracuse University. People took pity on the orphan girl. And I had the grades. I kicked ass in college. Got a great job with a small firm. I was certain that small firm was just a stepping stone. I was going to use it to get me a coveted position on Madison Avenue.

I’d gotten so close, but right when I was about to close my fist around the life I wanted and worked hard for, poof. It evaporated. Like a snowflake hitting the windshield of a warm car. Gone.

While I appreciated my aunt’s optimism and support, I couldn’t fathom being back here, in my old bedroom, with nothing to show for my time away but a three-line severance letter from a company that was supposed to “care about its people.”

Care my ass.

Sighing, I moved to my bedroom window to look out at the cold night settling in around my aunt’s cozy home. At least I had a safe place to land. That had to be worth something, right?