Unleash Me, Vol. 1 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series) (33 page)

BOOK: Unleash Me, Vol. 1 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series)
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Watch
your back, Lisa,

he
said.
 

You never know when I

ll show up again.

 
He started to close the door.
 

Or, for that matter, what I

ll do to you when I do.

 

#
 
#
 
#

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

OTHER
BEST-SELLING BOOKS ON AMAZON BY CHRISTINA ROSS

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ARE THE U.S. LINKS)

 

ANNIHILATE ME, VOL. 1

ANNIHILATE ME, VOL. 2

ANNIHILATE ME, VOL. 3

ANNIHILATE ME, VOL. 4

ANNIHILATE ME, HOLIDAY EDITION

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

BOOK ONE

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

New York City

August

 

In my suffocating, one-bedroom,
prison camp of an East Village apartment, I stood in front of the narrow mirror
attached to my broken closet door and saw an older, messier version of myself
staring back at me.
 
I wondered who
the hell was she

a
distant relative, a long lost sibling, my ugly stepsister?
 
All of the above?
 
But then I was too distracted by the
sweat coming through my white blouse to be sure or to even care.

What am I thinking?
 
I look ridiculous.
 
Not even ice in a freezer could keep
cool in this heat.
 
Call and
cancel.
 
Tell them there has been a
death in the family

my
hair.
 


This
isn

t
going to work,

I
called out.
 

My makeup is running
down my face, my hair looks like a hot mess because of the humidity, and my
clothes are starting to make the Hudson look dry.
 
Why couldn

t I have found a job in May or June?
 
Or even July?
 
I could be in a comfortable,
air-conditioned office right now, doing my work, making light chit-chat with my
elegant co-workers, laugh, laugh, laughing with them over the water cooler, and
getting something I

ll
apparently never see in this city

a paycheck.
 
But, oh no!
 
For whatever reason, no one wants to
hire me.
 
So, today, I

ll go and sit in front
of some other prickly HR professional who will judge me to be unworthy and send
me on my way.

I waited for a response, but none
came.

I grabbed a magazine off my bed and
started to fan myself with it.
 
I
walked to the doorway that entered into the living room, and found my best
friend and roommate, Lisa Ward, typing at a quick clip on her MacBook Pro.
 
She was nearing the end of her second
novel, which she

d
upload to Amazon in a few weeks.
 
Given the success she enjoyed with her first book, which was an overall
Top 100 best seller, I knew my time with Lisa might be brief if this book also
took off.
 
And I hoped it would, if
only for her.
 
Lisa had worked hard
and she deserved it.
 
At least one
of us could enjoy our lives.


You

re awfully quiet,

I
said.


That

s because while you
were in a full-on rant, I was taking notes.
 
I

m going to use that mother of a tantrum for a scene in the
new book.
 
You were brilliant.


You

re putting me in your
book?


I

m putting that
rant
in the book.


Tell
me I

ll
receive a royalty of some kind.


How
about dinner out?
 
Like at a hot dog
stand?
 
We can afford that.


Works
for me.
 
I

m Raman-noodled out.

Lisa pulled her blonde hair away from
her face, wrapped it into a ponytail, and turned to look at me.
 
Her skin was shiny from the heat, but
even from where I stood, it appeared poreless.
 
Lisa was one of those beautiful young
women who could go without makeup and still look chic.
 
She often said the same about me, though
I never believed it.
 
I

d never seen what
others saw in me.
 
I only wished I
had Lisa

s
confidence.


So,
where is this interview?


At
Wenn Enterprises.


Never
heard of it, but I

m
not the business type.
 
What

s the job?


Oh,
you

ll
love this.


What?


I
may have my master

s
degree in business

you
know, the one that has sucker-punched me with forty thousand dollars

worth
of debt

but
because I

m
essentially broke, I

m
now going for a secretarial job.


Jennifer
—”


It

s fine.
 
Wenn Enterprises is a successful
conglomerate.
 
Here

s what I

m thinking.
 
If I can get my foot in the door as a
secretary, someone might see something in me, and in a few months, I

ll have the job I

ve been seeking.


I
told you I

d
give you money.
 
The book is doing
well, and this one is better than the first one, so maybe it

ll do better.


I
appreciate that, Lisa.
 
But I need
to get out of this mess on my own.
 
I still have a little left in savings.
 
Enough to pay for next month

s rent, but then I don

t know what I

ll do.
 
If I don

t get a job, I might have to go home.


Why
would you ever leave New York for Bangor, Maine?
 
Why would you ever go back to your toxic
parents?
 
They just bring you down.


The
reality is that there is a bomb attached to my bank account, and it

s about ready to
explode.
 
I

ve been frugal ever
since we came here in May

no
bars, no boys, no eating out, no new clothes, not even a latte

and
it turns out I did the right thing.
 
Otherwise, I would have been out of here at the end of June.


You
know,

she
said,

maybe
you should consider a waitressing job at one of the city

s better
restaurants.
 
You could clean up
there at night, and then you could look for a job during the day.
 
It wouldn

t be easy, but if there

s one thing I know about you, Jennifer, it

s that you

re tireless.
 
The servers at some of the best
restaurants make serious money.
 
Six
figures a year isn

t
uncommon here

and
not many of them look as good as you do.
 
Stop underestimating your looks.
 
I think you

re
not getting a job because you intimidate the women who are interviewing you.

I overlooked the comment.
 
I just didn

t see in the mirror
what others saw in me.
 
Never had,
never would.
 

I

ve actually thought
about waitressing.
 
And I do have
experience, though hardly at a high-end restaurant.
 
Essentially, I shucked pizzas and beers
to get through college.

Lisa held out her hands.
 

What you got at Pat

s is experience.
 
Whoever hires you will likely train you to serve their customers in the
manner they expect anyway.
 
Think
about it.
 
It would give you the
money you need, and allow you to look for a job during the day.
 
If this interview doesn

t work out, that might
be the magic bullet.

She was right.
 

Sorry I freaked out earlier.


I

m not.
 
That shit was good.

 
Her face softened, and she looked at
me with concern.
 

I just wish you weren

t going through
this.
 
I know it

s been difficult.
 
I

ve seen how hard you

ve worked to find something.
 
It

ll happen at some point, but I

m as frustrated as you
are that it hasn

t
happened yet.
 
You deserve a good
job.


We

re a team,

I
said.
 

Always have been.


Since
fifth grade.


How

s the book coming?


I

m actually digging
it.
 
The zombies are ferocious in
this one.
 
I think I might have the
first draft done by the end of this week, and then it

s all about the
editing, which is good, because editing is the best part.
 
You just slice and dice the words,
reassemble them, read and re-read, get the book into its best possible shape,
and put it out there.

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