Hostage of the Heart

Couldn't Get Any Worse (One)

Hectic. That was the word to spring to Desiree Love's mind when she thought of her day. However, referring to it as hectic was probably a vast understatement. First, she slept late because her alarm clock decided to have an abrupt hissy fit and stop working. Due to this, she was caught in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the freeway, whereas it would usually move along smoothly because she left early enough to beat the congestion.

Heart nearly pounding out of her chest, as she was close to two and a half hours late, she had to stand with more than a handful of co-workers around to witness while her boss berated her for the unusual tardiness. She skipped breakfast, ignored her coffee machine, was pretty sure her panties were on backwards and highly suspected that she forgot to feed her cat before hurrying out the front door. He would be mighty ticked off upon her return home. Desiree, known for being a rather patient person most of the time, behaved the complete opposite then.

"Well, what did you expect me to do, huh? Make like The Jetsons cartoon characters and fly over the stupid cars?" When there was bumper-to-bumper traffic on the freeway, Desiree could see why some people experienced road rage.

The next thing Desiree knew it, she was packing her belongings in a cardboard box since her boss thought it in his best interest to release the harried woman from her employment obligations. As she packed, she tried convincing herself that he had actually done her a favor. Her five year anniversary at the company quickly approaching, she still resided in secretary land, and it seemed that wouldn't change. Sure, unless she soon gained new employment, she might have to start dining on canned soup and t.v. dinners, but the jackass had done her a favor. Yep.

Her first and only job, Desiree had acquired the secretarial position when she was eighteen, while concurrently attending UCLA with a major in creative writing and English. From the early age of seven, Desiree had wanted to be a fiction writer. She was on the verge of finishing her first novel. Then all she would have to do was locate a publisher who would be willing to take a chance on her.

Pulling into her designated parking space after arriving back at the apartment complex, Desiree noticed that her live in boyfriend's car was there. "What is Alec doing home this early?" she wondered aloud.

Soon standing in the elevator, waiting to be dropped off on the fourth floor, she thought of the reasons he could be home. "Maybe the poor thing is sick," she thoughtfully paused, "Or maybe the idiot had been fired from yet another job. Then again, I can't complain too much about that since I was fired too..." She frowned. "Stop talking to yourself. At least out loud. You look crazy." As the elevator stopped at her floor, she hoped that there weren't any security cameras tucked into corners trained on her maintaining a solo conversation. Upon the doors sliding open, the first thing Desiree took notice of was two people passionately kissing in the hallway, their arms tightly wrapped around one another.

"Alec!" Desiree shouted in disbelief as she hurried out of the elevators before they could shut. While she did so, the woman her boyfriend had previously been playing tongue hockey with, walked into it with her face averted from Desiree's.

"Who was that?" she angrily inquired, pointing toward the now closed elevator doors.

Alec's eyes shifted between Desiree and the elevator. "That was my girlfriend." Raising a hand, he wiped lips stained with bright lipstick.

"Your girlfriend? I'm your girlfriend!"

Alec shook his head. "You were, but... you've been replaced," he stated calmly as though they were discussing something as trivial as the weather. In fact, he appeared very composed for a man who had just been caught cheating, which only infuriated girlfriend number one all the more. The very least he could do was at least pretend like he felt bad for his infidelity! Was that so difficult?