Page 65 of Knotting Hill
Storm
I wakeup to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. I groan and roll over, my head pounding with a dull throb. I'd been crying all night before I fell asleep. My eyes are puffy and dry. My pillow is still damp with tears, but I have to get my act in gear. Today is the day I start at my parents’ doctor’s practice in my new—temporary—job.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves; the anxiety nearly makes me groan. How could I be so stupid to fall for the St. Lucs? I knew, and I stayed away, but then a few kisses and a pretty song later, I’m falling into the pit of despair I knew they’d cause me.
“Fucking wankers.”
JP has some fucking nerve trying to use me to get his money. How dare he treat me this way. Or anyone, for that matter. He deserves to have his knot fall off like I originally wanted.
Growling, I get up and stumble to the bathroom, my head still pounding. I quickly pee and brush my teeth before washing my face. I run a brush through my hair, practically scalpingmyself with the vigour brought on by the sheer anger I feel. My heart races in my chest, and I try once again to steady my breathing. I don’t want to end up having a mini panic attack again like I did after the incident with the pushy alpha, but not only that, I need to prove to myself and my parents that I’m capable of taking care of myself. I won’t be taking that date to meet my mum’s first-choice pack. Not now. I’m too heartbroken to even contemplate mating with anyone right now.
After getting dressed in a smart work suit, I hastily make myself a packed lunch and grab my travel mug for my coffee. I slip my feet into my trainers and shove the high heels into my bag. I have a twenty-minute walk, which I’m not doing in heels. Wolfing down some toast, I grab the handle of my bag, swinging it over my shoulder, and I head out of the door, praying that none of the St. Lucs are lurking, hoping to convince me to change my mind.
Not a chance.
I walk quickly and with purpose, luckily not coming across anyone I know and breathe out a sigh of relief when the practice comes into view. I pick up my pace. I’m out of breath and a bit sweaty by the time I shove the door open and hurry across the waiting room, feeling the sereneness of the space wash over me. I quickly stop to change my shoes and then march up to the counter where Miriam is already sitting, waiting for me with a big smile. Nothing like Sadie. I won’t miss her sour face, but I feel a pang over Cheryl.
“Come through,” Miriam says. “Dr Gloria is out on concierge today, and Dr Stanley is operating all day, so it’s just you and me.”
I return her smile and duck through the door. I’m almost relieved my parents aren’t here to hover over me. At least now I can get the first day over with and move on.
Miriam shows me to my desk and says, “You’re a godsend. I loathe invoicing, and I hear you’re a whizz with it. Here.” She hands me a stack of folders about as tall as me. Grunting, I drop them on the desk and knock over a photo.
“Sorry,” I murmur and straighten it, only to grimace at it with menace. A fucking Cockapoo is glaring back at me, almost as if it knew I’d knocked the picture over.
“Can’t seem to get away from the fuckers,” I mutter.
“Hmm?” Miriam asks. “Oh, that’s Sadie, my Cockapoo.”
I snort with undisguised mirth before I press my lips together. “Sorry, I know someone called Sadie, and she is not as likeable as a Cockapoo.”
Which is not saying much.
Miriam snickers which makes me think she knowsexactlywho I’m talking about.
I know then that despite the nepotism, I’ve made the right choice coming here while I get back on my feet.
I settle in at my desk and begin to go through the daily routine. I answer the phones occasionally, make my way through the massive stack of invoicing and generally try to be as helpful as possible to Miriam, who is efficient and organised, easy to get along with and generally a delight to work with.
Soon, I forget all about JP’s betrayal and the St. Lucs as I get lost in my first day in a new job, which goes by surprisingly quickly.
I feel a sense of accomplishment when I head back out. I know my mum gave me this job, but I know I did it well, and that means everything to me.
As I walk home that evening, the air cooling down after a warm day, the sense of well-being leaves me. I feel alone and like I’m going to be alone forever.
“Fucking wankers,” I mutter again, but it’s the only thing that makes me feel better.
I lock myself in my flat when I arrive home and turn to the TV. I need a comforting movie that won’t make me lose hope in finding a pack or love.
Forty-One
Storm
Late the next afternoon,wallowing in my shitshow of a life, I hear the buzzer go. Frowning, knowing I should ignore it because it’s probably the St. Lucs, I get up to answer it anyway.
My frown etches deeper when I see who it is. I push the button to speak.
“Franco?”
