The Pucking Girl Next Door (Power Play Off The Ice: Snowed in for the Hoildays)

3. Annabelle

Chapter 3

Annabelle

Two weeks later

" A nnabelle, I need you to finish up this report before you leave for your Christmas vacation." Frannie, my boss, sneers at me as she places a pile of papers on my desk.

Clearing my throat, I sit taller as I pull all of my courage from deep within to speak up. "Frannie. I was actually on my way out. I have to leave if I'm going to make my flight to the Bahamas."

Frannie's face doesn't even move, no emotion whatsoever. Sometimes I wonder if she can even make expressions.

"You know, the one with my family," I say trying to encouraging her to remember the conversation we had just a few months ago.

After a few tense moments, she finally responds, but not in the way I wanted her to. "You will not leave until this report is completed."

"But I put in for—" I start to say but Frannie interrupts me. "I don't care when you put in your vacation. You can't leave until this is done. If you don't finish this before you leave, you might as well not come back," she demands. Before I can even say anything else, she turns and leaves my tiny office.

Dropping my head on to my desk, I groan. That was not how I wanted this to go. I can't help but wonder how this has become my life, stuck at this job, a job I hate. The only reason I've even stayed this long and put up with the abuse is because I make more money here than I would've anywhere else. Not that I have time to spend it on anything, since all I do is work and sleep in my parents guest house. The same guest house I've been living in since I graduated from college. I haven't even had time to find a place to stay.

The whole reason I moved back here to Ember Bend is because I always imagined a future where I would raise a family here, next to mine. Where my kids get to run around in the snow with cousins, laughing while us adults watch and talk about how we used to do the same as kids. But that dream seems like a lifetime away.

Taking another deep breath, I try to release all of my pent-up stress out. Something I have to do. Alot! Sitting up, I glance over at the clock. It's three thirty in the afternoon. My eyes go to the pile of papers Frannie just left, and if the amount is any sign, then this is going to take longer than the thirty minutes I have before I leave.

Damn! I'm supposed to be on a plane in a few hours to join my family in the Bahamas. I can't help but feel anger bubbling up underneath my skin. She probably did this on purpose, knowing that I'm supposed to leave for vacation. One that I put in months ago. Even after reminding her, she didn't care because all she cares about is that someone gets the work done. And it definitely won't be her. I could just leave her high and dry, hoping to get a chance to plead my case by justifying that I had a plane to catch to HR or the higher ups, but something in my gut tells me that won't make a difference.

Letting out a breath, I resign myself to the fact that I'm going to have to push back my flight. Grabbing my phone, I rebook my flight for tomorrow, ignoring the little notification that says there's a possibility that my flight could be postponed because of the impending storm. I just have to pray that I can get on that flight tomorrow and now on top of that I have to hope that I don't lose my job either.

Once it's done, I send my mom a text to let her know.

Mom: Annabelle, have you seen the weather report? You need to get down here tonight.

I take another deep breath as I read her text. My mom can lay the guilt on real thick, and I don't want to deal with that right now. Instead of responding to her, I put my phone back in my purse and grab the papers that my boss left for me. Flipping through them and seeing all that I need to do, I can feel the pressure building behind my eyes. I blink my lashes repeatedly, hoping to keep the tears away, because I will not do that here. I will not cry.

I pull up the program on my computer and start working on the report. Hopefully, I can get this done quickly and run home to grab my suitcase. Even though I pushed my flight back, I hope that I can get on a standby flight. I won't tell my mom this but I'm a little worried about the weather too.

But for now, I've got to concentrate on this. No need to worry about something I can't control.

When I finally finish the report, I feel upbeat, hoping that everything will fall into place, and I'll make my flight. I glance down at the clock and all those feelings flee from me immediately. Damn! That report took longer than I thought. Hitting the print button, I grab it and staple it together.

Once I have it all together, I walk down the hallway to Frannie's office and all the lights have been turned off. Of course she's already left. My shoulders slump over as I curse her out in my head. If I had the guts, I would tell that she-devil exactly what I think about her. But since this is not a perfect world, I can't.

Pushing back my shoulders, I go to open the door to her office instead of dwelling on the fact that I'm here and not on vacation. I slap the papers down on her desk, probably a little more forcefully than needed, and try to resist the urge to break all her things.

As much as that sounds like fun and I would probably feel better, that's something I'm sure I would come to regret. Leaving her office before I did anything that I couldn't reverse, I grab my things and head to my car. Once settled, I grab my phone and call my mom.

"Hey honey, are you at the airport?" Her voice rings out over the Bluetooth in my car as I reverse out of my parking spot.

"Ugh, not quite."

"Annabelle Joy Rogers, what do you mean?" My mother squeals through the phone so loud I wince and have the urge to plug my ears.

"Mom. I had to finish up a report at work and it took longer than I thought. But don't worry, I've already got a ticket for the flight tomorrow morning." I say trying to appease her before she goes off on one.

"You need a new job. They work you to death."

Not wanting to discuss my job any further, I ask, "Is everyone there?"

"Yes. Everyone but you. And we miss you."

"I miss you too. But I'll be there tomorrow."

"Only for a few days. You'll find no one if you keep working yourself to death."

"I know, Mom. I'm almost home. Do you mind if I take some food from the main house? I haven't had time to grocery shop."

"See, that's what I mean. But yes, honey, help yourself."

"Thanks Mom. Love you. I'll see you tomorrow," I say hurrying her off the phone, not wanting to dive into why I work so much and never try to find a partner. I know she means well, but sometimes it's just too much.