Caged Read Online Free PDF

him: full name, phone number, workplace, life story, etc. Cover all the basics.
    I chuckled to myself at the mere thought of clubbing and interrogating him. I imagined doing it up Law & Order: SVU style, sans partner. I had to admit that in all the weirdness and strange coincidences, which I still didn’t believe in, he never emanated anything but a calming and neutral energy. Had he bad intentions or evil plans for me, I would have picked up on it. At least I hoped I would. But there was still something that seemed just a little too convenient, and my gut resonated the slightest sound of warning. I tried to focus on that feeling and strengthen it for better interpretation, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. So I chose to ignore it instead.
    Maybe he was my consolation prize: lose your parents, gain a strange hottie. My mind constantly ran over the possibilities until, for the sake of my sanity and my under-eye circles, I conceded that he was just a very strange individual who looked like a Greek god and really enjoyed saving me. I drifted off to sleep, wondering when he might choose to drop in again, and what tragedy he’d snuff out in the process.
     

6
    Saturday proved to be a lucrative day for the shop. I sold ten pieces in six hours, which may not sound like many, but when some of them fetched a price tag of five hundred dollars or more, it made for the beginnings of an excellent shopping spree for me. And a fatter check for Uncle Sam come quarterly payment time.
    There were a couple pieces that I was sad to see go, including my absolute favorite; it too had found a new home. I had made it from an amazing sapphire ring that I found washed up on the beach in Maine. It was extremely old and in horrible condition, but the round-cut gem itself had remained remarkably perfect according to the guy I took my gems into for assessment. After I dismantled it, I remounted the stone in an obnoxiously huge white gold pendant that amounted to nothing more than a really thick disk framing the bezel-mounted stone. The end result was bold, elegant and fashion forward, not a piece for the average girl. Luckily, the young doctor who purchased it had impeccable fashion sense by my estimation, and I was certain that she’d take care of my baby. It also made me an easy twenty-five hundred dollars. The profit margin on it was huge, given that the stone had been free and I had a great contact for getting gold at a really reasonable price.
    I was still glowing about the sales of the day while I closed up the books. It really illustrated how much of a banner day it was at REWORKED because I hated the business part of being in business. I was happiest being stuck in the back and left alone to design. Accounting was for the birds, or the nerds, as was often the case.
    After locking up, I rushed to my apartment in a frantic state, needing to find a barrage of items quickly so I wouldn’t be late. The best part of my day was yet to come and I had to get my ass moving. Saturday evening was reserved for a sacred activity: dancing. I took classes only a couple of miles from my house at a fantastic studio that offered a comprehensive selection of styles with amazing instructors. I always started with ballet for the evening (as all dancers should have a strong background in the basic principles of ballet). Next was jazz, then tap, and last but not least was hip-hop. It was my most recent addition, but rapidly proving to be my favorite.
    I liked to run the two miles to the studio to get warmed up before starting barre work, but unfortunately I was at a total loss as to where my running shoes and iPod were. Running without music was not an option. Ever. In fact, I never understood how anyone could do it. I firmly believed in having an ongoing soundtrack to my life, courtesy of my teenage years listening to Ally McBeal. Striding down the streets of Portsmouth to the studio was a perfect time to apply that