psychological diagnosis as well as a multitude of reasons behind them. I had a simpler explanation that I preferred.
I didn't play well with others.
The brisk wind that greeted me as I stepped outside was much chillier than it had been less than an hour ago. Autumn really had come to Colorado. I shivered and pulled my long-sleeved shirt more tightly around me. I'd been debating about stopping home before hitting my first appointment—the weather just cinched it. Coming home late tonight without a jacket would suck.
I headed toward the apartments that sat on the edge of the Colorado State University campus. They were a nice mix of graduate students, married students and recent graduates in the transition stage between college and real life. Age-wise, I fit in with them, even though I'd graduated three years ago. I didn't really hang out with any of them though. I preferred my own company. I could trust myself.
I didn't even give the 'out of order' sign by the elevator a second glance; it had only worked the first year I'd lived here. I didn't mind the walk up three flights of stairs most of the time. Less time I had to spend on the treadmill at the gym. It was a real bitch when I had to carry stuff though.
The apartment was small, but I didn't need a big place. When you grow up with hardly any room to move, a one-bedroom with a kitchen, bathroom and living room all to myself was a luxury. The place was neat and simple, the furniture a mismatch of clunky college thrift store finds and the nicer pieces I'd been slowly buying. A bedroom suite had been my first purchase, a celebration of my first self-employment check. I didn't go in the bedroom though. I didn't need to. Still, I paused at its doorway and looked at my place, allowing myself to feel the satisfaction of knowing I'd accomplished all this on my own.
I swapped my outer shirt for my favorite leather jacket and headed back out. Nothing like a good fuck and then a little affirmation of how far I'd brought myself. I wasn't a shrink, but I thought I was pretty well-adjusted. Considering other people who'd gone through the same things I had were either dead, drug addicts or prostitutes, I felt a pat on the back was well-deserved.
I was still in a good mood when I strolled in to Khan and Associates, and the secretary glaring at me only brightened my day. She was a new addition since the last time I'd been here, which meant I was going to enjoy this.
“May I help you?”
If she'd had glasses, she would've glared at me over their rims. I plunked my backpack down on her desk just to see her eye twitch.
“I'm here to see Ms. Khan.” I kept my tone polite and professional. “She's expecting me.”
“Take a seat.” The secretary gave me one of those condescending looks that women like her seemed to reserve for people like me. “I'll get to you when I get to you.”
I laughed and the scowl deepened, creating an array of tiny wrinkles on her forehead. If she kept that up, she'd make herself look years older than she was. “Check your appointment book. Lang Tech Consulting.”
She didn't even pretend to look at her computer or the calendar on the desk. Instead, she pointed toward the chairs and looked at me like I was something to scrape off the bottom of her shoe. My mild annoyance started to turn into actual anger. I didn't show it though. Even as good as I was at my job, if I got too mouthy, people wouldn't overlook my appearance to hire me.
“Ma'am,” I spoke through gritted teeth. “I'm going to say this one more time and then I'm going to make a call that you really don't want me to make. Let Ms. Khan know I'm here.”
“Excuse me?” She stood up, leaning toward me with her hands on the desk.
I was sure the look she was giving me had quelled plenty of people who seemed tougher than me. Unfortunately for her, my past was full of people a hell of a lot scarier than a middle-aged secretary with a superiority complex.
I sighed and straightened. “Don't say I didn't warn you.” I pulled my phone from my bag and scrolled through my business contacts. I tapped on the right name and waited.