Page 1 of A Little Too Forward

CHAPTER ONE

SABRINA

I’m shaking. Hot fury ripples through my veins as I stare at the screen in front of me. My body tenses, vertebra by vertebra, tendon by tendon, and I think I even stop breathing for a minute because I begin to see spots.

That could be the fury though. I am fucking pissed.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. I must be reading this email wrong. Maybe my contacts are malfunctioning and I need to put in a fresh pair. Or maybe my coffee hasn’t hit my brain yet and I’m imagining this whole thing due to a sleep-deprived night and stressful morning.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I open one eye and then the other and reread what’s glaring at me from my work computer.

“That weak-willed fucker.” I grumble under my breath, realizing that no, I had read the email correctly the first time.

And if fury engulfed me the first time…well, I’m at a whole new level now.

I’m in a blind rage and out for blood.

I stand abruptly from my desk, my chair slamming into the cubicle wall. Thebangis satisfying but doesn’t even register to the rest of my surrounding co-workers. No one looks up from their computers or asks if I’m okay. The floor is abuzz with news-making gossip and various game replays on the big-screen TVs.

With as much grace as I can muster, I exit my cubicle and head down the small hallway. I’m in tunnel-vision mode now. My goal: my manager’s corner office.

Chris is leaning against his office door, chatting with someone—I don’t take my eyes off Chris to notice—and his booming laugh hits me like a bullet. How could he be so jovial right now when minutes ago, he was the destroyer of dreams. The killer of my career aspirations.

My glare intensifies, and I pick up my pace. He must sense the incoming danger because his head turns my way. The smile falls from his face. Seconds later, he’s making an excuse and stepping into his office.

Closing the door.

The fool. As if a door would stop a determined, vengeful woman.

I wedge my foot in the door frame just as it’s about to close. Chris’s surprised gaze goes from the door to me, and damn does it feel good to have the upper hand. I’m realistic enough to know I won’t hold this position for very long.

“We need to talk,” I start, pushing the door back open and stepping into his office. Chris puts his hands in the air, walking backward to his desk.

“Look, Sabrina, I know you’re upset, but there was—”

“Upset? Me? Now, why would I be upset to get an email from you ripping apart all of my hard work over the last two months and learning that the job I waspromisedI’d move into was just given away.”

“I can understand how—”

“And an email, Chris. Really? I thought you respected me more than this. If you’re going to stab me in the heart, you might as well do it face to face. How dare you.”

“I thought it was the best way to tell you.”

I’m shaking my head even before he finishes his sentence. We both know it’s a lie.

“Come on, Chris. You sent the email because you didn’t want to deal with the emotional repercussions.”

“Look how well that turned out,” he mutters to himself.

I feel a bit queasy at his comment. Heaven forbid I show any emotion, especially when someone I thought of as a mentor and friend turns out to be an enemy. I can’t say that to Chris though. He wouldn’t understand, and he’d probably use it against me.

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders. Stepping up to his desk, which he’s barricaded himself behind now, I calm my voice as much as I can.

“I have worked at theToronto Spherefor over ten years. I started here as a high school volunteer, then a college intern. I’ve worked as a sports reporter, in your department, for five years. I practically live here, Chris,” I try and joke, but the words come out strained.

“I know, Sabrina.”

“And when Jules got into his accident and couldn’t work, who was it that drove across the border to make sure there was a member of the team covering the Detroit vs. Toronto game?”

---