To The Rude Guy in Apartment Five - J. S. Cooper Page 0,17

that as well.” Olivia walked into the room with the other girls. “I checked out the numbers. You put quite a bit of money into the company, which is awesome, but it means that you’re the only one vested in seeing the company succeed.”

“Well, I rather hoped that you five would be invested in the success of Cool Credit, seeing as you all work here now.”

“We’re only making salaries, though,” Millie said. “I can make a salary anywhere.”

“What if I give everyone one thousand shares?” Tate replied. “The value of those shares is up in the air. If we make a real success of this company, you could all be very rich.” He smirked. “How’s that for some personal investment in the success of the company?”

“I wouldn’t say no.” Olivia grinned, and she and Millie high-fived.

“Sounds good to me too,” I said, though I had no idea what that really meant. One thousand shares of a company worth zero was still zero. Though if we really blew up, it could be worth thousands or even millions. I was starting to get excited. What if I became a millionaire? I really needed to start writing some good articles. I was already feeling inspired. Maybe this new job wasn’t going to be so bad after all. I tried to focus on what Tate was saying as images of the dildo flashed into my mind. I would think of a way to take care of Jagger “Inappropriate” Scott later.

Chapter Seven

Dear World,

Alcohol can make you do bad things. Like, really bad things. It can make you have a one-night stand with a horrible guy. It can make you text all your secrets to your crush. It can make you flash a stranger. It can make you give a blowjob in a bathroom for a twenty. Joke. It can’t make you do that unless you’re a whore. And even then, I think the going rate is fifty dollars. Don’t ask how I know. Fine, you want to know how I know? Because I was propositioned once to give a short stocky biker a blowjob for $50 when I was in upstate New York. This dude did not look like he was the lead in Sons of Anarchy. He looked like he was the lead in Duck Dynasty. Now, don’t get me wrong, some of the guys in Duck Dynasty look like they’d be okay if they shaved. However, this guy was missing teeth, had hair longer than mine, and had food growing in his beard. I said no and left the bar quickly.

What does that have to do with anything? I don’t really know. My point is that alcohol can make you think you’re something and someone you’re not. And at twenty-eight years old, I really should know better.

XOXO,

Magnolia

“Arriba, abajo, afuera, adentro.” Jane said as we all held our tequila shot glasses in the air.

“What does that mean?” I asked, already feeling slightly giddy as this was our third shot of the evening.

“Follow me. Arriba, up,” She held her glass up. “Abajo, down.” She brought her glass down. “Afuera, out.” She pushed her glass out and clinked mine. “Adentro, in.” She then gulped her tequila and grinned. “Again, girls?”

“I’m not sure I should have another just yet.” Birdy shook her head and laughed. Her hair was down and she was wearing a cute red dress. I was taken aback at how different she was out of the office. The shy girl had disappeared and a temptress had appeared in her place.

“Yeah, same. Though I am hungry. Anyone down to share some nachos?”

“I’m down for nachos and fries.” Olivia nodded. “And maybe some chicken wings as well.”

“Count me in for all of that.” I nodded and looked over to the bartender to see if I could get his attention. “Maybe we can see if any booths have opened up? I wouldn’t mind sitting.”

“Sitting?” Jane pouted. “But how do we dance?”

“Dance?” Birdy said as she looked around the crowded bar. “But there’s no dance floor.”

“We can make the dance floor.” Jane started swaying her hips and moving back and forth in a salsa step. “Who’s in?”

“Not right now.” I shook my head. “I’m too hungry to dance, and I wanted to get you guys’ opinion on something.”

“Yes, you should fuck him.” Millie held her hand up in the air. “And then stick the dildo in his ass. See if he likes all eight inches.”

“Oh, Millie.” I giggled at her comment. “I’m not talking about Jagger. I’m talking