Page 55 of All Wrong
“Yeah, man. We’ve got it covered. Do what you gotta do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CORINNE
Abeam of bright sunlight cut through the narrow space between the shade and the window, dragging Corinne from the depths of a deep sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut against the blinding light and reached for her phone. The sun wasn’t usually that strong and bright at six a.m.
The movement resulted in a series of twinges from her neck all the way down to her toes. What the hell had she done? Surely, she wasn’t so out of shape that lifting and moving a few boxes would have such an impact.
The blind grab yieldednothing, so she was forced to crack one bleary eye open. Her phone wasn’t on the night table. She must have left it in the kitchen when she was packing. That explained the super-bright wake-up call. She’d overslept.
She groaned. She’d worked at the bank for more than ten years, and not once had she ever been late.
As if being punctual, reliable, and good at your job actually matters,she thought bitterly.
Corinne sat up, the unfamiliar soreness giving her pause. The ache in her core was definitely not from packing. And she was naked. She never slept naked.
The sheet had slipped down to her waist, revealing a smattering of strawberry-colored love bites peppering her breasts and—she whipped the sheet and comforter off to the side—her hips and inner thighs.
Which meant those incredibly steamy, erotic dreams she’d had last night weren’t dreams at all.
Her heart pounded forcefully against the walls of her chest.Holy shit.That had really happened.
Corinne scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping in the process, and stumbled into the kitchen. Boxes were everywhere—some filled, some not. A bottle of vodka sat on the counter, along with a can of ginger ale and two glasses. That was the only indication—besides the delicious aches in her body—that Nick had actually been there.
No time to worry about that now, however. She found her phone near the microwave, drained of charge, but the microwave display confirmed she was running very late.
Plugging in her phone to charge, she took a quick shower, then gathered her hair into a no-fuss twist and secured it with a clip. Applied a few strokes of mascara and a quick swipe of lipstick. She pulled on a lightweight summer blouse, then cursed when it didn’t conceal the dark marks along her collarbone. A quick wardrobe change and a pair of comfortable but stylish flats later, and she was ready to go.
The first thing she did when she got to the bank was make a beeline for the tiny employee break room in the back for a much-needed caffeine fix since she hadn’t taken the time to make any at home.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Sharon said with a smile, pouring herself a cup. “Corinne McCain, late for work. I think that’s one of the seven signs of the apocalypse.”
From anyone else, Sharon’s words might have sounded snarky, but Corinne had known her longenough to know better. The older woman was as kind as she was teasing, and she didn’t miss much.
“Considering the way things have been going, you might be right,” Corinne replied.
“Tell me about it. Do you know,” Sharon said, lowering her voice, “that little bitch actually had the lady balls to ask me to run an errand for her on my lunch break?”
Corinne sipped her coffee and said dryly, “I’m sure it was a very important errand.”
Sharon snorted. “I didn’t ask. But knowing her, it was probably picking up lip balm. Or lube.”
Corinne choked on her coffee.
“Seriously, she must have done something to get that position,” Sharon continued while patting Corinne’s back. “Everyone knows it should have gone to you.”
Everyone except Mr. Gehman, apparently.
“I’m sure he had his reasons.”
“Yeah, well, it’s bullshit, if you ask me.”
Corinne appreciated the support. “Thanks, Sharon.”
“You bet. I’m a strong believer in karma. Mark my words: that girl is going to get hers.”
With that cheery thought, Corinne took the coffee back to her desk. She’d no sooner startedgoing through her email than the bank manager appeared.
