Page 34 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

"Oh no." I'm already heading for the door. "Oh no no no."

"This isn't over!" Kat calls after me.

"Love you!" I shout back. "Tell Dad I'll call him! And make sure he actually eats the vegetables!"

I sprint to my car, nearly wiping out on the wet pavement. My phone continues its assault:

YASMIN: Update: Doves seem attracted to the CFO's toupee

YASMIN: Situation escalating

YASMIN: Should I initiate evacuation protocols?

ME: Please, Yasmin. DO NOT EVACUATE

YASMIN: Just... contain the birds

YASMIN: And hide the jumpsuits

YASMIN: And maybe start looking for a good bird removal service?

YASMIN: Too late. Mr. Reeves Sr. just walked in.

YASMIN: Dove immediately pooped on his shoulder.

YASMIN: He's asking about the sequins.

YASMIN: And why his son's new PR exec has an office full of feathers.

I slam my car into gear, tires squealing as I pull out. Becauseof course this is happening. Of course my first week at Clearwater involves aerial assault by mail-order doves.

My phone lights up one final time:

CONNOR: Why are there birds in my building?

ME: Would you believe they're part of a new PR strategy?

CONNOR: For what? Seattle's first airborne tech company?

ME: ...surprise team building exercise?

CONNOR: My father just got dive-bombed by a dove wearing a tiny Elvis cape.

ME: In my defense, I didn't actually order the birds.

CONNOR: The sequined jumpsuits, however...

ME: Also not my fault!

ME: Though I have to ask - how do they look?

CONNOR: Like Vegas threw up on Liberace.

CONNOR: Also, one of the doves just knocked over our Q1 projections.

CONNOR: Should I be concerned that it's now wearing my father's toupee?

I hit the gas, praying I make it to Clearwater before someone suggests using the jumpsuits to catch the birds.

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