F*CK MY LUCK BY OLIVIA DOVE – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Olivia Dove
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Bethany
“Come on Bethany, spill. How was your date last night?” asks my
eternally effervescent colleague Amy, as she slurps her acai berry
smoothie through a bright orange straw.
“It was good, thanks. He was nice, and we had a great time, but I don’t
think there was any spark between us.”
“Awww, so you’ll be staying on the market longer,” she says, her bottom lip
curling down with such genuine pity that I regret ever telling her about the
date.
Amy is peppy perfection, has been in a happy relationship for two years,
and if she ever found herself single again, would have a line of men
wrapping around the building desperate to date her. I could hate her for it,
but she’s just too damn nice.
“Looks like it,” I say, forcing a smile.
“At least you had fun last night,” she says, squeezing my shoulder and then
winking. “He must have kept you up late. You look exhausted.”
“Thanks,” I say to her perky behind as she spins around and bounces out of
the design studio toward her desk, too ashamed to admit that I was actually
tucked up in bed by 9 pm.
Suddenly the oxygen feels like it’s been sucked out of the air, a few tense
seconds pass, then a husky voice calls out from behind the computer screen
opposite.
“So, Kiddo. What really happened?”
“Exactly what I said,” I reply, a little too fast and high-pitched to sound
convincing.
A bird-like face with enormous green-rimmed glasses and earrings so large
they could knock tower blocks down appears from behind the Mac Screen.
“You can keep trying to sell me this story, but I’m never going to buy it,”
she says, and I can tell from her voice that she’s probably raising her
eyebrows, but in all honesty, her glasses are so gigantic I’m not sure if she
even has eyebrows behind there. If she does, nobody has ever seen them.
“Why not?” I ask, desperately clinging to this narrative even though I know
it’s futile. Nancy is like a pit bull, and now she’s locked on, there’s no way
she’ll let go.
“My first clue was you said he was nice. And as I keep trying to tell you, all
men are pigs,” she says, pursing her fuchsia lips together.
Nancy’s opinion of men is so low there are worms tunneling through it,
which is exactly why I didn’t tell her about my date in the first place and
chose to confide in every-guy-on-the-planet-wants-to-date-me Amy.
“They’re not all pigs,” I protest, but Nancy makes a rattling sound in her
throat like she’s about to cough something up and rolls her eyes.
“Okay then, let’s hear it. Tell me about this guy from last night. What was
so great about him?” she says, fixing me with a stare so intense that it
vaporizes the last few drops of commitment I had to my lie
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