Page 5 of The Ice Queen in the Corner Office

CHAPTER THREE

Jill

I stepped into my condo and sighed.

Everything was neat and carefully arranged, peaceful, calm.

My cat baby, Mr. Rochester, was nowhere in sight. Typical cat.

Kicking off my shoes, I walked in and requested some music from my electronic assistant. In seconds, heavy bass and screaming vocals filled my space and I relaxed still further. My friends and family hated my taste in music, but listening to other people scream made me feel like I was screaming, releasing tension, hashing out emotions without actually having to emote.

Bobbing my head to the music, I headed to the kitchen.

I was sweaty from my post-work run, and my stomach grumbled in hunger.

In my fridge, leftover beans and rice waited for me, but I couldn’t stand smelling myself a moment longer. A shower, a quick dinner, and then I’d curl up on my couch with Mr. Rochester and get plugged into a rollicking game of fortnite.

It was true, on the outside I might look like a 30-something, buttoned-up corporate executive whose farts smelled like Chanel, but in my free time I was more like a goth, sixteen-year-old girl. The girl I’d never gotten to be because I’d had so many responsibilities when I was a kid.

My phone buzzed as I was getting out of the shower. I grabbed it from the sink and saw a text from Cat.

Incendiary is playing tonight at Blackie’s.

Cat had been my best friend since college and the only one of our group of friends who shared my taste in music and avoided serious relationships more determinedly than I did. She wore her personality on the outside, though. She was all black leather and kohl eyeliner. She owned three tattoo parlors in the city.

Got big plans tonight, sorry. Sad face emoji.

Fortnite is not big plans. The fourteen-year-old boys you play with will carry on without you.

Damn it. She knew me too well. I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow.

She sent me a crying emoji, a tiny violin emoji, a cat face emoji, and a baby emoji. I didn’t care what she called me, but I had been wanting to see Incendiary for a while. I’d heard nothing but amazing things about them.

I groaned, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d worked a full day on little sleep.

I sent her a middle finger emoji and a thumbs up emoji.

She sent me a smiley face.

I grinned, excitement banishing my fatigue. I ate in front of the T.V., catching up on Game of Thrones, and then I got dressed.

I pulled on tight jeans, a slinky, silver top and spent my time on my make-up and my hair. It had been a while since I’d had the opportunity to get dolled up for a night out.

The cab sped me to the less ritzy side of town, my feet tapping on the floorboards. Less ritzy, but still not a bad or dangerous neighborhood. The club liked to pretend it was rough, but it was a safe, clean, well-run place.

As we stepped into the industrial warehouse-style building, I grinned at Cat. The band hadn’t started, yet, but the place was already packed. Cat was wearing a mini skirt that was smaller than some of my sports bras and she pulled off her jacket to reveal a bandeau top and her two full sleeves of colorful tattoos. Her shoulder-length black hair framed her narrow face and brought out the brilliant green of her eyes. She looked hot, not because she had a toned, curvy body and not because she could pass for Lzzy Hale, but because confidence, good energy, and excitement oozed from every pore.

She grabbed my hand and laced her fingers through mine. “Let’s get something to drink.”

I had zero interest in a hangover at work, so I ordered seltzer with lime.

Cat ordered a beer, which meant she was taking it easy, too. She might be fun-loving and more than a little wild, but she was still a business owner with an insanely packed schedule.

We wove our way through the crowd, found a spot with a good view of the stage, and settled in at a small table. Cat took a swig of her beer and stared me down.

“What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“You know what.”

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