The Accidental Assassin Read Online Free

watching, I headed for the exit.

 

     
     
    THE RAIN WAS thick this morning and I had to fight my urge to stay in bed and sleep away the day. I was trying to go to the gym every morning, but perhaps it would be good to break that routine, too. Of course, I’d started working out every day so I would take better care of myself, which wasn’t really a habit that I should break. Or should I? I could try.
    I rolled over and squished my pillow into a comfortable shape but couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried to remind my body that it was still early back home and that sleeping in would be understandable, but it wasn’t working. My internal clock was all over the place.
    Sighing, I gave up and headed for the shower. The shower was nice, large, with a special nozzle that was supposed to simulate rain. In fact, everything in Danny’s place was nice. Fancy stove, expensive American style refrigerator, and art work that made me drool. Not to mention the apartment—flat—itself was in one of the most expensive buildings in the neighborhood. I hadn’t thought a contractor would be able to afford something like this, but maybe his job explained his expensive taste. Or, more likely, he got all of his expensive fixtures at a discount.
    Unimpressed with the weather, I sat down at the table and looked at Mr. Green the Plant. “So far England is amazing. Everything has this undertone of history mixed with modern technology. But the rain? Every day. Every. Day. What’s up with that?”
    I didn’t wait for the answer that would never come and thought about my options. Not exactly a great day to go exploring. I could hit up the coffee shop and stop by the store across the street to stock up on ingredients for one of the new recipes I wanted to try. That would keep me busy, at least, and somewhat dry.
    As I got dressed, I noticed my phone flashing on the night stand. Thinking it might be Tess checking in, I grabbed it and waited for the voice mail.
    “Ms. McKenzie, I’m calling from The Studio on Fourth about our open position. I know it’s last minute, but we had a cancellation this morning and would like you to come in for an interview. We look forward to speaking with you at eight.”
    “Holy shit!” I scrambled around for something to write their address on and shut the phone off. I never thought I’d get an interview with that designer. An interview. In less than an hour. This could be my chance to stop answering phones and finally start using my art degree. “Oh, shit.”
    I looked out the window and groaned. I’d have to drive. There was no way I’d be able to get there on public transit in time. The thought made my stomach clench and I debated not going at all. The new me, the try-everything, give-everything-a-shot-me, put her foot down. I couldn’t miss out on the chance to have job and a reason to stay in exciting London. I had to try.
    I searched the closet for something suitable to wear and threw on a dark dress suit before pulling my hair up into a bun. Dumping my jewelry bag out on the bed, I chose large teal earrings and a chunky necklace. Designing jewelry was my passion and I wanted to wear pieces that would show off my skills.
    I glanced in the mirror briefly and hurried out the door before realizing I’d left my phone and needed to go back inside for it. I locked the door again and made it halfway down the hall before I remembered I’d left the address on the table.
    “Fuck me!” I said just as one of the other tenants opened their door. I frowned at the little old man staring at me. “Excuse me.”
    “I’ll take the first option.” He cackled and I felt my face flush.
    “Not really up for consideration.” I hurried past him, ignoring the leer he directed at me.
    “Then don’t offer!” He slammed the door and I fought the urge to shoot him the bird. Grumpy old cuss. Grumpy, old, perverted cuss.
    If this morning was any indication of how this interview would go, I was already screwed six ways to