Heaven Help Me, Or Hell Have Me (Heaven Help Me #1)

Heaven Help Me, Or Hell Have Me (Heaven Help Me #1) by Jolyn Palliata Read Free Book Online

Book: Heaven Help Me, Or Hell Have Me (Heaven Help Me #1) by Jolyn Palliata Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jolyn Palliata
Chapter 1
    So, I get up this morning
the same way I do every morning. I ooze out of bed and trip over
the cat on my way to the coffee maker. Coffee first (always), then
bathroom—once again, tripping over the cat in my way. Same damned
thing every morning. But, this is my life, and I’m okay with
that.
    “ Move
it, Cat.” It’s part of our routine, but he never listens. Why would
he? It’s my toe that suffers for his sprawling laziness, not
him.
    I don’t think anything can
hurt Cat, a big ‘ole black, moose-of-a-feline. Moose...that’s what
I should’ve named him. Though why I bothered naming him at all is
beyond me.
    He’s not even my
cat.
    Right on cue, he stands,
stretches, and shoots me a glare—yes, an honest-to-God glare—before
darting out the barely-open window.
    I better not find a steamy
kitty surprise on my bed later. Not like that’s never happened
before. Maybe I should just shut the window.
    But I don’t, and go take
my shower instead.
    ***
    Feeling fresh and
rejuvenated, and ready to face the day, I lock the door to my hole
in the ground. It’s a crappy little apartment, but it’s mine, so I
love it. A little hum and a shuffle down the steps and I slam right
into the humid wall of the real world. My apartment might be
crappy, but at least it has A/C.
    Already feeling weighted
down by the air, I trudge down the street. Okay, so that’s an
exaggeration. More like I have a little less bounce in my step.
(So, I’m dramatic. Sue me.) My goal, Starbucks, just five short
blocks away. Yeah, yeah—I made coffee at home, but that was just to
get me out the door. Now I need four high-octane shots to get me to
lunch. But on the way, I have to make my rounds.
    First stop, Chuck. Just
around the corner and selling the most gorgeous flowers you ever
saw. (And that’s not an exaggeration.) He’s old and wrinkled and stoops over a bit
when he stands. But he’s nice and has youth in those bright blue
eyes.
    “ A pretty flower for a
pretty lady.” Plus he’s so full of crap, he’s a delight to be
around.
    “ When are you gonna get
those eyes checked, Chuck?”
    He snickers at me, and
shakes his head. “When are you gonna get that mirror fixed,
Kassie?”
    I snicker back, and shake
my head. But I take the flower, ‘cause who doesn’t like flowers?
And I tuck it behind my ear.
    Three blocks later is
Larry. Now, Larry...I keep my eye on him. Tall, dark (As in
dirty-dark, not dark features. Actually, I think he’s blond under
all that muckity-muck.), and not very handsome. Um, like at all.
But he’s nice, too. Or has been so far. To be honest, I’m waiting
for the day when he flashes open his coat and I see more than hot
jewelry. And when that day comes, I’m going to scrub my eyeballs
out with Lysol. And then set them on fire.
    “ Hey, Kassie.”
    “ Hey, Larry.”
    “ Interest you in a
watch?”
    “ No, thanks,
Larry.”
    “ Necklace? Bracelet?” He
smiles, but it looks more like a leer. “Me?”
    The mental image is
staggering, but I recover. “I don’t think I could handle you,
Larry.”
    He runs a hand down his
chest, and right up and over his beer belly. “Too much man for you,
eh?”
    I keep walking with a
smile and a nod. How do I do it? I don’t know. “That’s it
exactly.”
    He laughs. “I get that a
lot, sweetheart. No hard feelings.”
    I wave goodbye over my
shoulder and keep my eye on the prize.
    Starbucks, just one block.
    ***
    “ Your usual,
Kassie?”
    “ Thanks, Kris.” I hand her
my card. And right then, Cici creeps up on me. I jump when she
sticks her face in mine. “Sidler. I’m gonna make you carry around
Tic Tacs so I hear you coming.”
    She makes a face. “Like
that Seinfeld episode?”
    “ Yup.”
    “ Make them orange
flavored.” She sticks out her tongue, then orders her Chai
tea.
    We shuffle down the line
like the trained coffee hoarders we are, and eavesdrop on people’s
conversations like we usually do. She takes the right, I take the
left.

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