The-Spanish-Love-Deception-www.indianpdf

C H A P T E R F I V E
Y
ou knew the universe didn’t like you all that much when, after an
exhausting week that had been crowned with a catastrophic
Friday, it started pouring down the minute you stepped out of the
office.
“Me cago en la leche,” I cursed under my breath, looking out through the
glass of InTech’s massive entrance door and taking in the dark clouds
crowding the sky, rain falling from it almost violently.
Pulling up my phone, I checked the Weather app and discovered that the
summer storm would probably hover over Manhattan for a couple more
hours.
Perfect, just perfect.
It was already past eight in the evening, so staying in the office to wait
out the rain wasn’t an option. I needed my bed. No, what I really needed was
a can of Pringles and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. But that wasn’t a rendezvous I
would be having today. Instead, I’d probably trick my stomach with whatever
leftover veggies I had in the fridge.
A thunder rumbled somewhere nearby, returning me to the ugly present.
The rainfall increased, now gusts of wind veering the falling water from
one side to the other.
Still in the safety of InTech’s entrance hall, I extracted from my bag the
light cardigan I wore in the chilly building and covered my head with it in
hopes that it would somehow act as a barrier between the rain and me.
Thankfully, the bag I had grabbed that morning, even if not the prettiest, was
waterproof.
Looking down at my beautiful and brand-new suede loafers—which,