Hammered – Jasinda Wilder

And then several days go by, and I don’t hear from him. OceanofPDF.com I REFUSE to call him or text him first, just to retain at least a sliver of my dignity. Then I start my new job—and I love every second of it. It’s amazing. Challenging and intense and difficult and rewarding, and it pays really well, considering what I’m used to. I’m so busy that first week that I barely have time to turn around. After my shift that first Friday, I go out with Audra.

She immediately notices that I’m off, somehow, and demands an explanation, but I adamantly refuse to admit there’s anything weird going on with me. Audra being Audra—meaning a bloodhound for gossip—doesn’t believe a word of it. Audra Donovan has been my best friend for twenty-five years. We met in a YMCA pool the summer we both turned fifteen, and have been inseparable since. We have a weird relationship, though—we don’t see each other every day, and we don’t even talk or text every day.

We get together a few times a month, and get tipsy together, and catch up on what’s happened since we last saw one another. We’re both super busy, and Audra has a crazy social life on top of a demanding job, and it’s just the way we do things. She’s five feet six (“and a half,” she insists on emphasizing, to this day), keeps her naturally platinum blonde hair in a pixie cut, and has a body a twenty-five-year-old would be jealous of—breasts most people wrongly assume are fake, an ass that doesn’t quit, and taut, toned, firm everything.

But then, she’s a personal trainer at a national gym chain—she’s the top trainer for the region, so she travels from gym to gym, training clients and supervising the other trainers and working out like a fiend. It’s kind of an addiction for her, I think. But it clearly works, on a physical level, because at forty, she’s in better shape than most women—and men—half her age.

We’re at our usual place—the Mexican restaurant I went to by myself the other day; we’ve been coming here for burritos and margs for at least ten years, if not longer. We split a pitcher of margaritas and each of us orders the house special—an enormous burrito stuffed with beef and rice and cheese, smothered in sauce and sour cream and drowning in a sea of refried beans. After we eat, we drink more margaritas, and finally, after two hours of wheedling, Audra manages to get me to admit that there just may be something going on.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum OceanofPDF.com CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Coming Soon!

Also by Jasinda Wilder OceanofPDF.com CHAPTER 1 “DAMN YOU, NICHOLAS IRVING,” I snarl, heaving at the stuck window. “You lazy, good for nothing, cheating bastard.” After one last futile heave, I let go of the window and climb down from the kitchen counter where I’d been perched in my effort to get better leverage. The window over my sink was stuck, and I wanted the damn thing open. It’s ninety-five degrees outside, with almost a hundred percent humidity, and there’s no central A/C in the house.

Not even a window unit. The summers are so hot here that I’d wanted to at least get a window unit for our bedroom, but Nicholas had refused, insisting he’d spring for central A/C this summer. I’d begged him all winter and spring, to no avail. Well… now it’s August, one of the hottest summers on record, and there’s no central A/C, and no window unit, and the house is like a blast furnace.

To top it off, having survived three brutal months of divorce proceedings, I’m now the ex Mrs. Nicholas Irving. The divorce was finalized about a month ago. And the bastard—the bastard—had spent the six months preceding the divorce helping himself to the money in our joint savings account. Yeah, our joint account, the one I’ve been dumping every penny of my salary into for years, to afford the remodel of this cheap-ass, broken-down, money pit of a fixer-upper he’d wanted to buy. Now, the bank account is all but empty.

Zero. He’d spent it all. Our money. My money—my forty to sixty hours a week at Dr. Bishara’s practice, six to seven days a week, no vacations, not even a weekend into the city—gone.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 2f9e1aa47b22f44d
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,366,189 bytes (1.303 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 247
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 361.15 minutes
• Total Words: 72,230
• Total Characters: 386,847
• Average Words per Page: 292.43
• Average Characters per Page: 1566.18

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