My phone alarm shrieks, loud enough to split my skull.

"Oh, my God." I groan, fumbling for the phone and shutting the damn thing off.

Why did I even set an alarm on a Saturday?

Oh, right. Because I thought this Saturday was supposed to be great for me.

If only I hadn’t yelled at Mr. Grande.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m relieved the weight finally lifted off my chest. But the anxiety chewing at me every time I refresh my inbox is worse. Is he waiting for business hours to send the ...