Chasing Fairies

Chapter 1.5

The sun filtered through the cream of the curtains. The blankets tangled around my body Doubloon was in a tight ball at my feet. From the way they tingled was a sure sign he had been there all night.

From the puddle of drool on the couch and the pancaked hair to my cheek, I must've cried myself into a deeper sleep than I would've liked. As much as I would love to stay on the couch, watch TV, and hang out with Doubloon, adulting called.

"Get up, you big monster." Groaning, I pulled my legs out from under him. He looked at me with an expression of indifference at being awoken at the whole hour of nine o'clock. "What? Don't look at me like that. I work hard so you can have a pampered life, spoiled brat." The nerve of that punk.

Hobbling to the kitchen, I whistled for Doubloon's lazy butt and slid the back glass door open. Letting him out to go to the bathroom in the tiny, enclosed backyard. The sun sparked over the drying grass, the rain from yesterday a distant memory.

But the memory had me wrenching myself up the stairs and into my room. My queen-sized bed disheveled, the hot pink body pillow and a pile of blankets spread all over it.

I was never neat. I had an organized mess, despite what everyone may think. From my closet, I slipped on a pair of dark wash, torn skinny jeans, and a tee-shirt that read "Sofishticated" with a picture of a goldfish with a top hat and a monocle. Putting on my favorite neon yellow running Nike's as quickly as possible. I hurried downstairs and let Doubloon back into the house before leaving. Hopping into my small, beat-up orange Jeep Wrangler and heading to Arthur's office.

The sunlight was blaring, the early spring starting to warm the air. My mirrored aviators kept the sun at bay for the time being. I tried to focus on the road, the surrounding drivers. But what had my uncle left me? When did he make a will? He always seemed so careless. Never had I thought he would take it upon himself to make sure a will was made.

A loud honk rang behind me causing me to jump. The light was green; people were so impatient. "Asshole." I growled, jamming on the gas and speeding forward towards the address on the card.

Pulling into the business park, I took a spot towards the front row. Jumping out of the jeep, I pulled open the fancy bronzed handled glass door and stepped into the main lobby of a sleek office space. The floor was the shiniest, darkest cherry wood I had ever seen. An expensive couch sat in the corner with a glass table of old magazines in front of it. Even the throw rug looked like it cost more than my couch and my bed.

My hands began to sweat when I found myself in front of the receptionist. A stereotypical blonde in a pencil skirt and frilly white blouse. A headset with a small mouthpiece rested on her head. Without looking up, the receptionist rifled through the papers on the desk. "Name?"

Put off, I rubbed my palms on my jeans. "Atrium McKenna. Arthur Morris came to--"

"He'll see you in a minute." The woman interrupted without looking up. I scowled and grumbled 'rude' under my breath, which had the woman looking up under her lashes. She gave me a once over and smirked.

I didn't know how I felt about that. The woman was reminiscent of those secretaries in Hollywood movies. Pencil thin with her makeup painted on perfectly. Here I stood, getting a once over of indifference. I wasn't pencil thin; I had that hourglass figure. Damn hips.

Women always prayed for big boobs, but those with those big boobs hated them. The only color bra you could get was tan or gray, and the only style it came in was plain, no lace.

"Miss Atrium." That same deep voice from yesterday came from behind. I turned to see Arthur standing in one of the double doors, motioning for me to come in. "Sorry for the wait."