Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Girl in 3C
    Girl in 3C
    Girl in 3C
    Ebook124 pages2 hours

    Girl in 3C

    By Nailah Setepenre

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    "You have two weeks to find a new place to live and move out," Dominique Desbois said calmly.
    His perfectly manicured fingernails tapped on the immaculate coffee table once - and only once - before he crossed his legs.
    "I won't need your help, Dominique. I'll manage on my own," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady.
    I had known for months that Dominique and I weren't made for one another.
    My friends described Dominique as anal, and that's the best word I can think of to characterize him.
    "Can I get you some water, Lisa?" Dominique asked gently.
    When I didn't respond, he went to his spotless kitchen and grabbed a glass.
    He inspected the glass, holding it up to the light and squinting his brown eyes, drawing his brows together in concentration.
    When the glass passed his examination, he pushed the lever on the freezer door and filled the glass with crushed ice and very little water.
    I crunched the ice with my teeth as Dominique grimaced.
    "Well, I guess I'll get my things together," I said, standing abruptly and ignoring Dominique's complaints.
    I set my glass down on the marble coffee table, watching with satisfaction as the water spilled over and made a slight puddle on the table's glossy surface.
    A huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders when Dominique Desbois jilted me.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNailah Setepenre
    Release dateOct 12, 2015
    ISBN9781311154989
    Girl in 3C

    Read more from Nailah Setepenre

    Related to Girl in 3C

    Related ebooks

    Romance For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      The Leather Coat

      Apr 4, 2024

      The Leather Coat
      6 min read

    • Article

      All Of Us Here

      Jun 4, 2020

      All Of Us Here
      6 min read

    • Article

      The Man I Should Have Married

      Dec 29, 2019

      The Man I Should Have Married
      11 min read

    • Article

      The Duplex

      Jun 9, 2020

      I moved to Los Angeles to sing. When was this? August? June? I was twenty-nine, and those were shapeless months, when the days blended together and I refused to pull them apart. My landlord was unusually close to her adult son. His name was Jeffrey,

      21 min read

    • Article

      Good Bones

      Mar 19, 2020

      Good Bones
      18 min read

    • Article

      The Silhouette Artist

      Jul 25, 2019

      The Silhouette Artist
      6 min read

    • Article

      We Don't Talk About That Here

      Nov 4, 2021

      We Don't Talk About That Here
      4 min read

    • Article

      Come with Me

      Dec 1, 2022

      Come with Me
      12 min read

    • Article

      Where Night Stops

      Jan 15, 2018

      Where Night Stops
      6 min read

    • Article

      Penny

      Jul 2, 2020

      Penny
      6 min read

    • Article

      Cruel Intentions

      Feb 20, 2020

      Cruel Intentions
      5 min read

    • Article

      The Freshening

      Sep 15, 2018

      My cashier’s black hair was beautiful. Though not unlike mine, it was shinier and thicker, and hung glamorously down to her waist. It looked strong, too, like Christopher Reeve’s in the Superman movies. A strand of Superman’s silvery hair could hold

      21 min read

    • Article

      Soul On Sale

      Aug 10, 2022

      I was waiting for the call at the telephone booth. I’d been waiting for fourteen or seventeen minutes and finally, I decided to leave. It was pointless. I only had a 20-dollar bill on me and no coins for the slot. Hard rain was coming, some type of s

      9 min read

    • Article

      Now That I’ve Arrived

      Dec 30, 2020

      Now That I’ve Arrived
      5 min read

    • Article

      Averted Vision

      Sep 1, 2022

      Averted Vision
      25 min read

    • Article

      Righteous

      Jan 22, 2019

      Righteous
      8 min read

    • Article

      A Temporary Arrangement

      Oct 2, 2023

      A Temporary Arrangement
      19 min read

    • Article

      Longer on Moon

      Sep 22, 2022

      Longer on Moon
      19 min read

    • Article

      The Space Between Us

      Oct 9, 2019

      The Space Between Us
      8 min read

    • Article

      Christmas Comes to Norwalk

      Oct 25, 2019

      Christmas Comes to Norwalk
      4 min read

    • Article

      Identity Crisis

      Feb 2, 2019

      Identity Crisis
      8 min read

    • Article

      An Afternoon In Her Shoes

      Jul 26, 2022

      An Afternoon In Her Shoes
      6 min read

    • Article

      Clutter, Be Gone!

      Dec 28, 2020

      Clutter, Be Gone!
      4 min read

    • Article

      Begin Again

      Jun 14, 2022

      My grandfather came to live with me. There was nowhere else for him to go. What had happened to all his children? Death, decay, exile—I hardly know. My own parents died of pain. But I must not be too gloomy, at the beginning, or you will leave me, an

      6 min read

    • Article

      The Night That Changed Me

      May 12, 2021

      The Night That Changed Me
      8 min read

    • Article

      Tomorrows

      Mar 15, 2022

      The night, as most nights, was like a dream. At ten, once I’d fed the dog the last scraps off the stove. Once I’d cursed the cat for scratching up my mama’s antique furniture, then welcomed him back into my arms. Once I’d slicked my hair into a ponyt

      26 min read

    • Article

      Proverbs Of A Faceless Time

      Dec 1, 2023

      Proverbs Of A Faceless Time
      9 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Girl in 3C

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Girl in 3C - Nailah Setepenre

      Girl In 3C

      Nailah Setepenre

      ISBN: 9781311154989

      Copyright 2015 Nailah Setepenre

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Prologue

      You have two weeks to find a new place to live and move out, Dominique Desbois said calmly. His perfectly manicured fingernails tapped on the immaculate coffee table once -- and only once -- before he crossed his legs. He fixed the crease of his trousers and looked up expectantly to see my reaction. I was immersed with astonishment and fury. My fiancée of six months just announced that he was leaving me for a nineteen-year-old jingle singer and model from Des Moines, Iowa. Yes, I said jingle singer. She was one of those annoying voices that blast from the TV on commercials for laundry soap or buttered pastries, singing those beastly songs that get stuck in your head for days on end.

      Oh, and her name was Teena. Can you imagine? Teena – with a double E! I can imagine that you would be heartbroken, darling. I will, of course, aid you on your search for a new apartment in any way that I can. I blinked a few times, trying to take in exactly what he was telling me. I won't need your help, Dominique. I'll manage on my own, I replied, my voice surprisingly steady.

      It's not that I wasn't hurt by what was happening -- I was. But I had known for months that Dominique and I weren't made for one another. He was an accountant at a major firm in Midtown Manhattan, where men wore thousand-dollar suits and owned penthouses with views. I was a budget interior designer, helping people on small budgets redecorate their homes or apartments.

      My friends described Dominique as anal, and that's the best word I can think of to characterize him. He colour-coordinated his underwear. His socks. Even his vegetables. His aftershave and bath products were all arranged alphabetically, by name, but he often rearranged them so the caps that were all the same size were all in the same row. His towels were monogrammed, dark blue, all hanging with the seams even and the lettering in the right-hand corner. When he invited me up after our first date, I put my purse on his foyer table and I thought he was going to have heart attack. I once put a bottle of wine back in the wrong spot, not in the chronological order that he placed them in, and he didn't speak to me for three f*cking days. We often fought over my unkempt lifestyle -- his words, not mine -- and his need for all things cleanly.

      Thus, I was surprised when he popped the question six months earlier and suggested I move in with him. I sold my shoebox of a condo to some grateful Chinese immigrants who I knew from work and moved in the weekend after the invitation.

      Now, I only had a place to live for two more weeks before Teena-the-blonde-busty-jingle belter came to stay. It was quite a dilemma, and I was worried about it. However, my ex-fiancée, always the adept one, mistook my deflated expression for one of being heartbroken.

      Can I get you some water, Lisa? Dominique asked gently. When I didn't respond, he went to his spotless kitchen and grabbed a glass. He inspected the glass, holding it up to the light and squinting his brown eyes, drawing his brows together in concentration. When the glass passed his examination, he pushed the lever on the freezer door and filled the glass with crushed ice and very little water. Here you are.

      I took the glass and looked at its contents, then took a sip. There was nothing but ice. I crunched the ice with my teeth as Dominique grimaced. Must you do that, Lisa? he muttered, sitting back down and fixing the crease in his trousers once again. Well, I guess I'll get my things together, I said, standing abruptly and ignoring Dominique's complaints. I set my glass down on the marble coffee table, watching with satisfaction as the water spilled over and made a slight puddle on the table's glossy surface. I smiled my most winning smile and sashayed away to the bedroom. A huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders when Dominique Desbois jilted me. I was worried about my future, yes, but I felt incredibly free -- almost like a liberated slave. I felt like I was embarking on a new kind of adventure.

      Chapter 1

      Sorry, it's not quite what I'm looking for, I said nervously, beginning to stand. The young women in front of me sat, stone-faced and speechless. I'll let myself out.

      The women were annoying me with their silence and cold looks. They both dressed in all black, one in all lace and the other in all leather. Their pale faces were framed with black -- obviously dyed -- hair and their lips were painted fire engine red. More black rimmed their dull eyes. And every room in the house was either black or red.

      As I let myself out the door, I sighed in relief. My knees were shaking, but I wasn't used in some ritual sacrifice and there were no curses put on me. Not that I knew of, anyway. I had given up looking for an empty apartment. The cheaper ones were filled and I couldn't afford the more expensive ones. My friend Juliette had offered her apartment to me, but she already had a husband and two small children there. I told her thanks, but I think I would rather find a nice cardboard box somewhere on Broadway than have to put up with what she puts up with every single day. Not to mention that I didn't want to impose on them nor make them feel uncomfortable. Especially since they were a young married couple who enjoyed each other a little too much.

      So, I decided to keep searching, and this time, search for people in need of room-mates I circled a few ads in the newspaper, put on some good walking kicks, and began my search.

      Problem was, The Originals was on, I was missing it and on day thirteen of my journey to find a new place to live. I only had one more day before Dominique would kick me out, and then I'd be really screwed. It seemed like I had walked for miles, seen apartments that no human eye should ever see, met people that I wouldn't want even the foul-mouthed hot dog man on the corner to meet, and I still hadn't found anything remotely pleasant. I glanced down at my newspaper and read: Three room-mates looking for a fourth, m or f. No smoking or pets. Reasonable rent. Call or stop by. . . .

      The address was close to where I was, but since I was beginning to get the early stages of a headache, I stopped in the nearest coffee shop first to buy myself a mocha. On a whim, I bought some blueberry scones and almond biscotti to take along, hoping that the goodies might sweeten the disposition of some surly New Yorkers. I so hoped that this apartment would be the one.

      I arrive and I was buzzed up after explaining to a sleepy male voice who I was, then punched the button for the elevator and waited impatiently for the silver doors to open. When they didn't, I tried again. The elevator's broken, a rough, old voice said behind me. Can't you read gal? I glanced back at the impatient-looking old doorman, who had been sleeping at his post when I came in. I looked back at the elevator and searched for a sign that said Out of Order. Of course I can read, I snapped back. But there's no sign here saying that the elevator's not working.

      The old dude looked at me in a condescending way that made my skin crawl in frustration.

      Well, lady, that's 'cause there ain't no sign on the elevator. There's a sign on the front door tellin' everyone to take the stairs. And there's a sign inside the elevator sayin' it's broken. I begged the heaven for patience, but none was sent at that moment that I so desperately needed it. And I was dangerously close to throttling the old geezer. What good do the signs do in those places anyway? When you're coming in, you're not looking at the signs on the doors, and you can't even get inside the elevator. Hell, even if you did, the sign wouldn't do any good there!

      The man squinted at me, then shook his head. He mumbled something about young people not appreciating his hard work and walked away. I shook my own head in wonder and began to climb the stairs to my left. The apartment was 3C, so after climbing three stories I felt like my black leather jacket was going to melt to my skin and have to be peeled off by emergency personnel. I

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1