If I had any foresight, which to my infinite misfortune I didn't, I would've known that this day would've begun disastrously and only worsen by night. My trusty alarm clock failing to go off as it usually did should've been the first clue.

As I jumped out of bed, I knew that I wouldn't be late but I was still too close for my liking. I always liked to show up at least 15 minutes early everywhere. And show up an hour early for places I've never been before. I showered and put on my makeup, more than usual, as I recited the directions in my head.

I tore off my fifth outfit and threw it into a heap on the floor, deeming it too casual for my first day at my first post-college job. Even though it was only a library, it was still a library in New York City. And though my scholarly new co-workers would hardly take a second look at my appearance, I still wanted to make a good impression. It was to be my first day after all; I may as well take advantage of the motivation since I knew only too well that I'd stop making the effort to dress up about a week in as usual.

Not that I didn't like dressing up—I'm as vain as the next girl—but it was something I always did in splurges on special occasions. The way I saw it, I'd rather look comparably stunning one day or night and look like me every other day than to look pleasant every day and horrific on the one day I'm caught without makeup. I say this from personal experience having witnessed one too many girlfriends without their daily "masks" on. I learned my lesson early on not to show the immediate expression of my startled emotions. Girls tended to remember things like that.

Finally settling on a black pencil skirt, and a basic crisp white work-shirt, both of which fit snugly on my small frame, I tied my hair into a bun and walked out of my closet-sized bedroom into the vast studio apartment that was to be my new home in New York for the foreseeable future. To be fair, it was fairly large for a closet—one of those huge walk-ins you see in magazines of rich homes that the general reader can never afford anyways. It fit all that I needed anyways—a bed, lamp, space for clothes and books.

How I managed to snag such a good location, right in the middle of Manhattan at the last minute, was beyond me. It probably had to do with my new roommate, Alice, and our fortuitous meeting on the subway—she spilt hot tea on me and felt so bad she invited me back to her place to clean up. And I ended up staying indefinitely, as it worked out.

I briskly walked over to the open kitchen, preparing a quick Special K cereal breakfast as Alice walked groggily out of the bedroom she shared with her boyfriend, Jasper.

"Bella! You are not walking out that door to your first day at your first job wearing just that." What Alice lacked in stature, she more than made up for in sass.

I almost sputtered out my mouthful of cereal with the spoon still frozen in my mouth at Alice's stance, hands on hips and glare at-the-ready. "What's wrong with what I have on?" I asked innocently.

Alice sighed before plopping down in front of me. "Nothing is wrong with it, it just needs some pizzazz. Oomph."

I narrowed my eyes at her, slowly crunching the food in my mouth. "Alice, I'm starting work at a library, not a nightclub."

Alice raised one perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "Bella, this is New York City. You never know what opportunities you'll come across or who you'll meet. So you should always look your best."

"Alice, you're a high-end stylist. You're gonna think I'm not trying unless I'm glammed up 24/7."

Alice sighed in exasperation. "Fine, we'll compromise. You can leave as long as you wear one pair of shoes and one accessory of my choosing."

Jasper expertly covered up a laugh and tilted his head to hide his "yikes" impression from his girlfriend.

I deliberated for a moment. Alice was small but…she was stubborn and remarkably strong for her size. Also, appearance-wise, she could do no wrong. But comfort…well that was a foreign concept to her when it came to fashion. But I quickly relented when I noticed her glare becoming a little too maniacal. Just in case she added a third thing too.

Said pair of shoes ended up being bright red patent high heels with a pointed tip sharp enough to puncture through iron. And the accessory was a signature style of Alice's herself, all bangles and shine, dangling well below my waist. I imagined myself tripping over my shoes while stabbing an innocent bystander to death as I choked on my necklace that was caught on everything.

"Alice, I'm a walking hazard," I said as I stared down at my feet, which seemed much further down than usual.

"No, you're a stumbling hazard," Alice said with a smile. She had clucked at my wobbly walk to the front door.

I opened my mouth to protest that it was her contraption that she forced me into before she held up a finger to silence me.

"Correction," she said, looking me up and down. "You're a hot hazard. Careful not to run into any naughty boys now," she said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes I'm sure the elderly gentlemen where I work will bust their hips to catch me when I fall."

Jasper laughed as Alice rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, everything will be great, now go and conquer the city."

I laughed and walked out. I'll be happy if I get there without getting lost, I thought. I hobbled my way into the elevator, secretly glad that it was all-mirror walls inside, allowing me to have one last check over my look.

A small-town twenty-one year old girl, fresh out of college about to start her first job in the Big Apple was staring back with wide, careful brown eyes. My pale face looked up and down my reflection, noting that Alice was right as usual. The bangles and hot red shoes did add an oomph to my appearance.

But they would also gleefully contribute to the gradual unraveling of my day. Well, maybe, it would be more accurate to say ripping apart. This is the calm before the storm, so-to-speak, before the disaster of my day truly begins. Of course, I had no idea of the details at this point. The devil is in the details they say. And little did I know, I was about to meet my devil.

Bodily that is. Literally, as soon as I walked out into the crisp morning air, a huge and speeding form crashed into me, wiping the triumphant smile off my face for having walked down the steps without falling, before unintentionally dragging me along with him to whatever hell he was eager to get to.

I heard an impatient tut as, naturally, he was pulled back by my weight. For a moment both of us froze, not understanding why we were stuck before I realized it was Alice's jewelry that was caught onto his suit jacket.

"It's caught on your jacket," I said trying to pull it off of him only to realize that I was making it worse and bringing us closer together. I was so concentrated on the task that I had hardly looked up to even see his face.

But I could sense his frustration as he released an impatient sigh. "Allow me." His voice was deep, commanding and curt. Welcome to New York City, indeed.

Before I could respond or even look up to see what he planned, the man had taken off his jacket, leaving it dangling in my hand and turned sharply around to speed off in the direction he was headed. All I saw before he turned the corner at the end of the street was the back of his short brown hair and his tall lean frame in black suit-pants and a crisp, white shirt. I didn't even remember him uttering an apology.

There I stood, alone in the middle of the street, alone in New York City with some rude gentleman's suit jacket. It looked expensive. It looked like it was worth more than my entire closet of clothing. Possibly my month's rent. And he had simply slung it off and left it with me in his hurry.