Walk on the Wild Side 3.1 - Loving Ms. Wrong - C.J. Ellisson.pdf

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Loving Ms. Wrong
By C.J. Ellisson
Red Hot Publishing
P.O. BOX 651193, STERLING VA, 20165-1193
Smashwords Edition May 2014
Copyright 2014 C.J. Ellisson
Cover Design by Kim Killion, HotDamnDesigns.com
ISBN 9781938601309
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means
(electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission
of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Kim Engstrom. Thanks for being my supporter and I’m honored to call you
my friend.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter One
Katrina
“I don’t know, Gemma,” I say while teetering in the pink shoes with the zebra striped heel. “I’m not
really an animal-print type of girl. And these things are loud.”
“Oh, get over yourself, Ms. Namaste. It’s Carla’s birthday. Let loose, have some fun. Besides,
we’re all wearing zebra with pink trim. If you don’t do it you’ll look like a stuffy fuddy-duddy.”
I hide my grimace of distaste, uncaring what people think of me if I stand out for not dressing up.
Gemma shoots me a dirty look. “Katrina—I know what you’re thinking. And Carla will know,
too. Didn’t she help one of your customer’s daughters with Dress for Success when the young woman
needed clothes for a new job?”
Damn, guilt works on me every time. I’m such a sap that way. Especially when she’s right. Carla
has been a good friend to me, she even helped me move. The least I can do is not complain about the
silly party theme Gemma and Heather cooked up for her.
“All right. All right. I’ll wear them.” I sigh and take small mincing steps toward the mirror. It’s
been a long time since I’ve worn a short skirt and heels this high, preferring the long flowing skirts
and blouses I wear while working the herbal shop. I have to admit, the shoes make my legs look good.
Gemma smiles. “It’s about time you show off the body all those long hours in yoga helped
sculpt.”
I resist the urge to ignore her complimentary words and force out a low “thanks.” I don’t
practice yoga to look good. I do it to be strong enough to meditate for long hours after working in the
shop all day. Gemma, Carla, and Heather—the friends I met at the yoga studio over a year ago—do it
for the health benefits, so I don’t remind her of what they’ve collectively called my ‘eccentricities.’
They don’t know the real reason I meditate every day, and I’d rather keep it that way. Sometimes
it’s difficult to admit to a friend what you don’t even like admitting to yourself. Plain and simple,
meditating daily keeps me sane.
“Okay, chica, are we ready to roll?” Gemma asks.
I turn back to the mirror and check the new dark blue streaks in the bangs dangling over one eye.
The blue looks fun and hip. I’m glad I did it. “Yup. Let’s go.”
I lock the metal door to the mini-apartment located in the back third of my store. It’s totally
illegal for me to be living here, but my newly limited finances don’t allow for a business on this street
and a place of my own. Thankfully my friends don’t judge me, or maybe they just don’t know zoning
laws and decided to remain politely silent during my move last month. Besides, it’s temporary—only
until I get more funds in the store’s accounts. Taking on all the new pharmaceutical grade
supplements, which are used in conjunction with prescribed medication for various health concerns,
really wiped out my cash, but I have faith it was a wise move to upgrade.
We stride through the darkened aisles of well-ordered pill bottles, herbal tinctures, powders,
teas, and various homeopathic remedies. Closing time on a Friday night is eight o’clock, which was
thirty minutes ago, and the last customer left closer to seven.
“Did you get her a gift?” Gemma appears concerned. She and Heather were so cute with their
rah-rah emails and texts planning this party. I would have been a total shit if I’d forgotten or cheaped-
out due to my tight budget.
I make a detour toward the counter and grab the gift bag I set there earlier. “Yup.”
Her eyebrows rise in excitement. “What did you get?”
I laugh and motion her to precede me out the door so I can lock up. The moist humidity of

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