Worst Wingman Ever (The Improbable Meet-Cute, #2)

by Abby Jimenez

I was always really good at compartmentalizing what I did for a living. I think that was part of my gift. I had the compassion that the duties required, but also the ability to leave it behind the moment I stepped out the door. Now when I left my assignment, I got in my car and cried. Because my assignment was to watch my grandmother die.

Time is such a precious thing. How you spend it, how you waste it. And it becomes even more valuable as the hourglass runs out, because you will never get more of it. I see it every day. The panic as the last grains of sand fall.

He also stole my neti pot, which for some reason pissed me off more than the cheating. He does not deserve clear sinuses.

“Take responsibility for your own unhappiness. If you don’t love your life, change it.”

“Imagine having to kill a guy named Chip,” she whispered. “That would piss me off. Like, you’re gonna have a stupid name and be an asshole? Pick a struggle.”