Jayceon [INKITT]

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"Men are inconsiderate dogs who think they're the shit," my face scrunched after I took a generous sip of my wine, "you agree, right Cecilia?"

"Ruth," the brown-skinned middle-aged woman rolled her hazel eyes before shuffling in her vacuum cleaner into the room, "ma'am you've been here all day, may I clean your office now?"

"Men are such a screw-over!" A cough left my lips once I took another long sip, "they destroy everything in their path! You know what? They're savages, Melissa, small-dicked savages!"

I can't believe he got arrested on counts of statutory rape and paedophilic offenses as well. Statutory rape? Him? To think that he kissed me with that mouth and touched me with those prying hands!

Good God!

"Ruth." The woman corrects once again but I will not partake in the notion of memorising her trivial name, "can a woman clean or what?"

Who knew that I'd be stuck in my office at nine pm while trying to swallow down a whole bottle of wine?

Thinking of which, this day did have an abrupt start that rendered my whole day disastrous.

-

"Get a good grip on it, not too tight so that the circulation is cut, but enough to give you power," he paused for a moment, releasing a hard breath before carrying on, "now suck, hard."

Following his command, I did as his said, stressing my lips around the tool with fluttered, screwed eyes. My cheeks ached, the zygomatic arch clawing at my skin constantly until cool liquid sprayed onto every crevice of my face.

Crap, I thought bitterly.

I spent all morning doing my make-up.

"Good," Lucas grinned lazily, obviously proud of his work. "have fun...washing your car?"

The 5'9 male, blessed with a dancer's physique and poise, sauntered gracefully into his house without daring to look back. Not only did I have to face a faulty hosing pipe that needs to be jumpstarted in order to function (I need to suck it in order to get water out) but now I had to call into work and explain as to why their trusted COO was reporting an hour late for work.

Though I am grateful that my neighbour decided to borrow me his hosing pipe at the last minute, maybe I thought chivalry would seep through that dancer's exterior and probably result in him offering to wash the car for me. I mean, manners haven't quite reached the point whereby they cease to exist and the mocha-coating phenomenon is still going strong, weakening men all around the world.

Well, except my neighbour.

After a brief rinse of the water my Toyota Cressida still looked horrible. Chocolate and raspberries went well together not only in taste but in appeal as well yet the mud swathed against my crimson vehicle looked so horrible that all modes of public transport flocked my mind as today's rescue.

Lucas stalks to his large dining room window and bids me goodbye with a tight smile after I toss his hosing pipe on his lawn. Gingerly, I plunge my key into ignition and speed of into the mid-morning rush hour traffic.

"You're late."

"I know."

The man with pale, snowy skin with incandescent eyes arches a pallid brow and scoffs quietly. Mr. Baxter didn't have to like me but I brought incredible recognition and praises to this establishment so he had no choice but to put up with me. I had visions for this place and so did he but sadly we couldn't ever come to an agreement because we're too similar.