Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

Chapter One

Jose Cuervo nestled between her thighs, Chase lifted the shot glass to her lips and in one gulp emptied the strong contents of it. The liquid burning as it slid down her throat, she grabbed the bottle and refilled her shot glass.

Wishing herself a happy 34th birthday, she emptied it again. Happy. Hah. She didn’t remember what happy felt like. Reddened eyes focused on the television--more specifically on the woman holding a hardcover novel that had recently made several bestsellers’ lists, including the New York Times. She was tossing her head back and laughing, obviously enjoying her interview with Oprah Winfrey.

Oprah Winfrey--the queen of daytime television talk shows. She wanted her because of that novel she claimed to write. Lately, it seemed that every time Chase turned on the television there she was with one popular interviewer after another talking about her novel, her characters, how she came up with her plot. Damn her! She was shameless as she sat there laughing, smiling, and chatting. She didn’t have any morals. She didn’t know the meaning of the word. Bitch!

Before Chase could get a hold of her senses, Jose Cuervo was flying toward the television, thrown by an angry hand. Fortunately, that hand had horrible aim due to its owner’s excessive drinking, so the tequila bottle flew right passed the Panasonic. As pissed as she was at the interviewee she didn’t want to break her television. It was pathetic, but the television had become her only friend.

She couldn’t take anymore so she switched her friend’s screen to black. If she were in Chicago she would have been tempted to find the acclaimed ‘author’ and plant her foot in her lying cheating ass. Melissa Ward had taken the world by storm a couple of years back with her first novel Parade of Tears, which climbed as far as number three. When her second novel Lessons in Love, the sequel to Parade of Tears was put on the bookshelves, it climbed to the number one spot and secured Melissa a rather extensive fanbase.

There was talk that her fifth and latest book Intrigue might be made into a motion picture. Melissa was becoming wealthy and gaining success at Chase’s expense. The only thought that brought a smile to Chase’s face was wondering what her ex-girlfriend would do after her readers started salivating for another book. With the release of Intrigue she had run out of stolen material to plagiarize.

Of course this didn’t offer Chase much consolation. Even if Melissa decided to retire from ‘writing’, she was in. She had the money, the 2,500 square foot home, the summer home, the people continuously reminding her of her success and the new girlfriend who happened to be a famous actress who might play the lead in the possible motion picture adaptation of Intrigue.

Feeling sick to her stomach and wanting this horrible birthday to be over, Chase walked into her postage stamp sized bathroom and found the bottle of sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet. She usually took one, but today she decided to take a couple of them. The sun still brightly shone but she didn’t care. She just wanted to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow so that she could continue feeling bitter toward Melissa--a.k.a the woman who single-handedly ruined her life.

Turning on the faucet, Chase cupped water in her hands, slurping it down with the softgels. Using the sleeve of her shirt to dry her mouth, she chanced a look in the spotty mirror and promptly released a regretful sigh. It was worse than she had expected. In her opinion, she looked even worse than shit. Compared to her, shit was devastatingly beautiful.

Her blonde hair had long ago lost its will to shine and now lay limply around her shoulders badly in need of a trim. The area under her eyes was so dark that she resembled a raccoon, and she was carrying a bit of luggage there from lack of sleep. If her parents could see her--especially her mother--she just knew that she would be chastised for losing so much weight. Chase figured that she had lost about fifteen pounds since Melissa dumped her two years prior.