Greatest Distraction (Distracted #1)

Synopsis
 

My name is Ryen Macek. I’m twenty-eight years old, live in Atlanta, Georgia and live a fairly normal life.

Anyway, like most women, I’ve dated and it’s always turned out badly. Most recently that would be Aaron, who decided to trample on my heart in the form of a woman wearing a sheet. Not that I’m bitter, mind you, but, well, I sort of am.

I decided I needed a distraction. I needed to get away from this city, the men in this city, and just… live for awhile. Helllooooo, New York City. I’d stayed here with my best friend while we went to college, and, lucky for me, she kept our apartment.

In true
Ryen fashion, what I’m looking for, I find… but is it more than even I could ask for?

Between the paparazzi, high society events, and mob connections, join me while I find the greatest of distractions.

Copyright ©
2014 Juli Valenti

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission from
the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Editing by
Kristina Circelli with Red Road Editing

www.facebook.com/RedRoadEditing

Cover & Formatting by Rene Folsom with Phycel Designs

www.Phycel.com

Dedication
 

For Marc—

You’ll always be my greatest distraction.

Chapter
one
 

The alarm clock blared loudly, effectively waking me up, at the same time scaring the crap out of me. Flustered and huffing, I beat at it, repeatedly, demanding its silence with my fist. I had to give the hunk of plastic some credit though … It was awfully determined, continuing its tirade until I gave up on the physical abuse and flipped the little switch, feeling like I won the final battle.

Sitting up quickly, I groaned, allowing myself to fall back on the bed, fluffy pillows cushioning my body. I didn’t feel any better today than I did yesterday; if anything
, I felt worse. Yay me.

After attempting a second time to sit up, failing again, I gave up on the notion of going to work. Luckily it was a Thursday and I knew plenty of coverage would be on hand for the day. It was much easier to call out on a Tuesday or Thursday
. Being sick on the other weekdays? Forget trouble, that’s more like
28 Days Later
stuff right there. Well, okay, maybe not that bad, but definitely significantly more difficult and troublesome.

Snatching my cell phone from the side table, I cursed when the screen illuminated,
nearly blinding me.

“Stupid thing,” I despaired, quickly tabbing the lock button to make the offending light go away. I clutched my head as my eyes readjusted to the dark room, vision no longer spotted in green, purple, and blue splotches. The thought process on how to text my boss without being blinded again seemed much more difficult than it should be.

Fifteen minutes later, the boss had been messaged, acknowledged I wasn’t coming in, and my head was buried under my pillow once again.

My eyes were tearing, permanently burned by the light of the cell phone. Okay, maybe I’m being dramatic
… not
permanently
, but still, it felt that way. Pain was radiating from my eyes inward – how it spread from my head to the elephant on my chest, I’m still unsure. In case you didn’t know: elephants are
heavy
. Allowing one, even a small one, to sit on your chest is to be highly discouraged.

A no
ise akin to a hungry zombie escaped me – I think it may have been a groan – and I burrowed deeper underneath my blankets. I was both pleased at the prospect of staying in bed, but also completely depressed about it. I wasn’t conflicted at all, was I? Nah. It’s one thing to get to stay home from work when you’re feeling just dandy and have plans with a tub of ice cream and
Judge Judy
all day, but to have to stay home because you feel like death is going to claim you at any moment? Nope … not fun.

“
Mediphrumpsn,” I muffled to myself, knowing that the sound didn’t make sense aloud, and completely unsure as to why I said it. It’d sounded like ‘medication’ in my head, but my brain wasn’t talking to my mouth very well.

Feeling completely melodramatic, I rolled myself out of bed and onto the floor, determined to crawl myself the few feet to my bathroom. Walking was too much work, and if I kept my head low enough, I could possibly convince my body that I was just getting comfortable in bed, playing like a mole.

With every shuffle of knee to hand, it got harder to move and I pleaded with myself to make it. I knew, in reality, that it was really only the flu and that some people still functioned easily when they caught it. Not me, though. I was a huge baby when I got sick from anything, and this illness made me feel like I was flat out going to die … or turn into a werewolf. Determined, though, my hands made the transition from carpet to freezing-cold tile, shocking me and almost making me rethink this whole thing.

Why hadn’t I thought ahead and put the bottle of Nyquil on the bedside t
able before I went to sleep? I think the notion had crossed my mind, but I’d waved it off, feeling like Superwoman before falling into the death-inducing sleep. The draw to the narcoleptic drug fueled me, though, and I continued on, almost crying in relief when the cabinets were at eye level with my face.

Reaching up only high enough to snatch the
medication, I put the bottle to my teeth, holding it like a dog, as I snail-tailed it back to the bed. Once I’d crawled back up, I wrestled with the child-proof cap until it reluctantly unscrewed, swigging directly from the container, not bothering with the dumb measuring cup I’d already lost somewhere on the counter. The normally gross black-licorice-flavored liquid slid down my throat, warming me, but completely tasteless. This would usually worry me, but since I couldn’t taste it, I decided to ignore that fact and took another big swallow.

Content I’d taken the two
-tablespoon recommendation, if not a tad more, I plopped it onto the table next to my alarm clock. I spared a thought for the cap, but since I couldn’t immediately see it amongst my blankets in the dark of the room, I ignored it, instead scooting back down onto my pillow and pulling the blanket up to my face.

The projection of the time seemed bright on the ceiling, the red numbers almost looking angry as they glowed five twenty-two. Sighing, I rolled over, happy that daylight savings time had made it still dark at this hour. If the sun was shining through my window, I wasn’t sure what
I’d do. As content and comfortable as I was likely going to get, I closed my eyes. The last thought that passed through my head before I fell asleep was that I wished I had a boyfriend to come hold me – completely forgetting about Chris.

A loud beating noise woke me
, and after several moments of slapping at the alarm clock again, I realized it was coming from the front door.

“
Gah! Sorry,” I said to the clock, feeling silly that I was apologizing to an inanimate object. Shrugging inwardly, I pulled the covers back, trying to decide if I could actually get out of bed. Maybe if I just ignored them, whoever it was would go away. Granted, it could be important…

“Damn it!” I swore when the sound continued, getting progressively louder. Swinging my feet around to the carpeted floor, I stood quickly before I could change my mind. The world swam, my vision coloring in hues of yellow, orange, and red
, courtesy of the sunlight coming in through the blinds.

Swallowing hard to regain some semblance of composure, I willed myself up and onward, stumbling over my own feet on my quest to the door. Once there, I leaned against it, shivering as the coldness from
the wood seeped into my body.
Makes a good resting spot, despite the cold,
I thought, leaning my head against the peephole, not really looking to see who was still knocking.