ith the absurdly huge Cinderella outfit got stuck between her and the door jamb. Her front door key and her phone, which had been vibrating frantically, were in
ve herself and her Thai meal from falling to the ground. If the messenge
ted, not specif
hts at her apartment, but he hadn't been there in a few weeks. Because he was a hot salesperson and had won a lavish reward, he had been living it up in
ill the glass. Sadly, she was so focused on getting where she was going that she neglected to look where she was putting her feet, and as a result, she wound herself tangled up in the clothing bag. She stumbled horribly and was unable to help herself since her hands were full of Thai cuisine. She struck the hardwood floor with more force on her knees than she should have, l
nce again, more o
ling of the flat under hers. For all Peyton cared about, Mrs. Feeney could fuck herself. It had been an awful day. Her prize for not ki
herself now that the Thai food was gushing all over her floor, o
still booz
g care of her, what good was it to have a fucking fiancé? Her workload had increased due to her boss's pregnancy, on top of her already heavy workload fro
d attempted to regain her Zen. Her life seemed to be falling apart around her, and the more s
efrigerator to look through the pitifully empty shelves for anything strong enough to make her forget the embarrassing day. On the kitchen counter, three open wine bott
Fuel...oh Yeah" by Cold Chisel played in her he
ood into the bowl, avoiding the shattered plastic container pieces as she went. What the heck, it was all going to get muddled up in her stomach anyhow. Reaching the couch seven steps from the kitchen,
, and Peyton curled up to watch Geordie Shore, the on
compact apartment in Melbourne's downtown. Her sister had recently married a Billionaire aviation magnate in a ceremony so stunning it brought tears to her eyes, and her boss had
ened Peyton. pounding on
! She shouted, getting to h