Page 270 of Small Town Firsts
Just how would our Monday go?
I had to know.
Six of Wands reversed, Justice, and Eight of Swords reversed with a Hanged Man shadow card.
Hmm.Not exactly surprising that Justice had showed up, considering he was a lawyer. But maybe we were both a little anxious about getting things right in the workplace.
The Hanged Man definitely wasn’t giving me much to go on.
I really hated to wait and see. Being patient topped the list of things I sucked at.
As I scooped up the cards, one fell to the floor.
King of Swords.
My logical and chilly boss-to-be right there in the flesh. The one who’d apparently decided to ghost me.
The cards weren’t giving me much to go on. PMS definitely wasn’t.
Monday would be very interesting indeed.
FOUR
Card of The Day:
Embrace:6 of Swords| Release:The World reversed
Monday
A purringgray cat with golden eyes tapped my nose incessantly.
I pushed it away with a mumbled curse. The blasted nuisance came right back.
Tap-tap-tap.
Then the tapping turned to an annoying bell. Whomever put the bell on the cat’s collar needed to be maimed.
By me, with pinking shears.
The bell got louder, followed by a crash of cymbals.
I jerked up my head, a sketch page stuck to my cheek. I peeled it off my face and stared down at the gray cat I hadn’t been able to get out of my head all weekend.
Evidently, it had walked right into my dreams. I rolled my eyes then put it on top of the seven other sketches I’d beenworking on since Saturday night. “Okay, okay. I get it. You want to have a guest spot in the comic.”
Of course it would be a guest spot. Not a whole change to my setup.
I stumbled out of my chair and nearly slipped on the scattered sheets in various stages of creative birthing. The cat on one of the pages even had a freaking tie.
I bent down and picked them up. “Alexa, off!” I shouted and the alarms went silent. I really hoped the alarms hadn’t been going off forever. I checked my Apple Watch, but it had died sometime between Saturday and Sunday.
Sleeping at my desk was not advised, but it wasn’t the first time. Nor would it be the last.
“Alexa, what time is it?”
“The time is 8:11.”
“Crap.” I shoved the pile of sketches on my small kitchen table and sprinted to the bathroom for a lightning quick shower. Thankfully, I’d had the foresight to pull out clothes for work the night before.
