Page 4 of Shades of Grey & Gold

I shake my head but follow her back to the kitchen to grab another glass for myself. Great, between work and this, what could go wrong?

Chapter Two

Max

Iwakeuptoa hand in my face, bright blue nails inches from my nose, and adjust enough to see Becca lying across from me. My head throbs and the light streaming in from the windows in my bedroom is bright.

“Becca?” I croak out, my eyes adjusting to the light and realizing it is much brighter than normal for early morning. “Becca! What time is it?” I yell a little louder and start trying to shuck blankets off of my body and feel around for my phone.

“Time for you to lower your voice, probably,” Becca grumbles androlls over.

I grab my phone after untangling my feet from the fluffy duvet.

“Shit, it’s already eight-thirty, Bec, I should’ve already been at work,” I go to stand up and realize my attempts at untangling my feet were futile as I face-plant into the cream-colored rug covering the dark wood floors. My phone breaks my fall under the heel of my hand, and I hear a small snapping sound.

“If that was one of your bones, I absolutely cannot drive you to the ER in this condition.” Becca shifts on the bed and Bart sniffs around my head. I lie motionless for a few seconds before she croaks again, “Signs of life?”

“I’m alive.” I roll my eyes and push up onto my knees, pushing the perpetrating sheet from my foot. I lift my phone back up. “My phone, on the other hand, is a little fucked.”

I push myself up and sit back on the bed.

“You smell like wine,” Becca mumbles and sits up next to me.

“That’s just what I wanted to hear.” I stare up at the ceiling and throw the phone to the bottom of the bed. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

“I could’ve said the smell of your shirt makes me want to throw up, but I didn’t! You’re welcome!” Becca shouts after me and I hear Bart jump on the bed with her.

I throw the wine-stained shirt and leggings in the hamper before stepping into the walk-in shower. The glass is foggy and if I squint my eyes, I can almost pretend I’m somewhere exotic. A luxury hotel where no one knows my name. I take a second under the hot water and start to come to terms with the fact that all the work I have waiting for me won’t get done without me actually physically going into the office.

“I know you have to go to work, but is it okay if I take a bath before I go? I’ll lock up and feed Bart.” Becca’s voice bubbles over the sound of the water rushing over my body and her shadow walks past the fogged shower glass. “I can’t resist your big, fancy spa tub… it calls to me.”

“Yeah, actually, that’d be helpful,” I soap up my body really quick and wash my face. “You know what else you could do for me?” I snake my arm out of the glass shower door and grab the oversized white towel to wrap around myself. “Build a time machine and not put that envelope in the mailbox last night.”

Becca cringes as I step out of the shower. She’s cross-legged on a bathmat in front of the bathtub that takes up half the bathroom, tying her short hair up in a half-bun. “I hear you, it wasn’t my best hour, but it was just a save-the-date with an RSVP. Maybe they will cancel. Or send back another dis-invite invitation?” She sighs and looks at the floor. “I amsorry. But worst-case scenario, you just don’t go, it’s not like you will have to see Patrick or Bren-duh,” she puts emphasis on the end of her name and makes a face.

“Last night you were all, ‘We have six months to find a cute outfit and it’s at that winery!’” I throw my other hand up in a jazz-hands motion, mocking her.

“Well, those things are also true. And, for the record, I do think you should go! Show him what he missed out on and go on a mini-vacay.”

I finish up and go to the closet. “I don’t know, Bec.”

I pull out a fluffy cardigan, a plain dark green tee and some dark wash jeans. As I’m slipping into them, Becca walks into the closet.

“You need a new wardrobe.”

I roll my eyes at the topic that never ceases to exist with Becca.

“You should get a personal shopper. Or!” She spins around me and throws her arms up, striking a pose. “I know! I could do it!” She points both thumbs at her chest.

“Pass.” I smile and walk out, grabbing a scarf on the way into the bedroom and then my phone off the bed. “My wardrobe may be outdated but I can’t pull off bright colors like you can, and I just know you’d buy pinks and greens to ‘brighten up my aura,’ or some equally hippie reason.”

“Okay, but hear me out, what if I just updated it a little?” She puts her fingers together to indicate a small amount and smiles. “No bright colors, pinky swear!”

“For what? To wear nicer clothes to work? Why? They don’t care what I wear.” I scrunch up my nose and grab my purse off the hook in the hallway.

“To wear nicer clothes for you, Maxie.” She looks up at me with puppy dog eyes and Bart is next to her on the stairs, staring at me with the same look.

“Maybe another day. But I love you for offering. Don’t you have work today?” I throw the scarf around my neck.