Freed by Fire by Ashley Christine Read Free Book Online Page A

trashcan on fire so he would come and pull out his hose— oh, get your mind out of the gutter —and put the fire out?
    I kid. I’m in the gutter too. I write smut, remember? It’s quite comfy in here. A little dirty, but I won’t tell anyone you’re here.
    Sighing I finished my coffee, which was now cold, and tossed it into a nearby can. Not lighting it on fire, I swear. I found my way back to Maggie’s apartment and fell onto her small sofa, my feet tired from the walking and my mind racing of visions of that man.
     
    ***
    Wednesday, July 3 — 7:48 pm
     
    “So Ben was like, “Yeah well the only person who would be able to pull off that account is currently nodding off, so I think you should just give it to me, Mr. Winston.” And then, I nearly died, I was so embarrassed I tell you, Em…”
    I looked up, feeling like a shit for not paying attention. “Sorry, Mags.”
    “Normally I’d tell you that you suck for ignoring me…but, something’s up. What is it?” She asked, cutting her steak and slathering horseradish all over it.
    “Nothing, I don’t know…I’m just a little tired I guess.” I didn’t want to tell her that the sight of steak and smell of horseradish reminded me of Matt and it made me sick. “Tell me the story again.”
    “Naw, it’s okay. It sucked anyway, I don’t blame you for ignoring me.” Maggie laughed. “Are you really tired? I was hoping you would be up to maybe a little dancing tonight. A bunch of people from work are going to a pub downtown.”
    Since I felt crappy for sucking as a dinner companion, best friend, and listener, I agreed. “Only if we can go home and change. I’m not exactly going to wear a dress to a pub.”
    “Good! I’m going to text Ellie and tell her you’re coming. She’s been dying to meet you.”
    Ellie was Maggie’s secretary, I’ve heard all about her. She sounded nice, and maybe it would do me some good to make another friend.
    I wolfed down my entire bowl of cacciatore, almost to the point of bursting, and languidly sipped my wine while waiting for Maggie to finish her plate of beef and asparagus. She ate small, precisely cut sections, chewing each piece with her eyes closed, as if she was concentrating on the taste of each bite. I smiled looking at her. I loved that girl.
     
    ***
    Wednesday, July 3 — 10:10 pm
     
    “Can’t I just wear yoga pants and a hoodie?”
    “No.”
    “You’re mean.”
    “The meanest,” Maggie teased. “Besides, no one wears hoodies in July except bank robbers and other precarious individuals. You, my dear, are neither a robber or precarious. You’re young, hot…and newly single. Show those legs, let those boobs spill out…Act your age.”
    “I’ll have to borrow something of yours then, because I don’t have any boob-spilling tops.”
    Maggie laughed and opened her closet. “What’s mine is yours, Em.”
    I chose a pair of my own cut-off jean shorts, frayed and ripped at the pockets. Something I had bought on a whim and thought Matt would like—he didn’t. “ You’re showing too much thigh, Em, ” he had said, and I changed out of them that day.
    I could spend an entire weekend trying on all of Maggie’s clothes. I settled on an emerald green sleeveless blouse with a low neckline.
    “How’s this?” I asked, twirling around in my bare feet.
    “Possibly making me consider switching teams.”
    “Maggie!” I laughed.
    “In all honesty, you’re beautiful. I can’t believe you don’t see it. Ellie and I are going to have to keep a close eye on you. All these Chicagoans will smell the fresh meat.”
    I slid on a pair of flats and sat on the bed waiting for Maggie to decide on whether she was going to wear a skirt or a pair of shorts too. She ended up choosing the skirt. A black wrap of fabric around her curvy hips paired with a light gray lacy camisole. She looked more beautiful than I would on any day of the week.
    The bouncing blonde by the entrance of the pub waving and shouting must