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"If you don't want my help," he said, his voice laced with a touch of coldness, "I'm happy to return to my life without any care for your welfare." With those words, he turned and walked off—once again, leaving me standing alone.
After a moment, the crisp sound could be heard of the front door closing.
I stared at the empty space where he had stood, a sudden chill permeating the air. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t help but wonder…
What if?
What if he was right?
CHAPTER 11
Summer
Eighteen sucked.
I sat outside Southeastern Financial, a once large and impressive building. Now, green algae stained where water drained from the broken gutters jutting from the roof. The bushes, once carefully planted, needed a good trimming, and tall weeds protruded from cracks in the sidewalk.
Don't judge. I tried to convince myself that I was doing the right thing. Besides, my own garden was way worse. Once, carefully tended by my mother, now, a shrine to my past and what-ifs.
I took in a deep breath. You got this.
I'd gone to what felt like a hundred different banks this week and this was the last one on the list.
I'd started at the shiniest and most well established ones, with a bright smile and an optimism that would've bowled over Mrs. Kranley, my least favorite teacher at Crestmont Prep.
However, all hopes of easily obtaining a loan to take care of me and my sister until I got a job were quickly crushed. I was too young and didn’t have a credit history. Some of the bankers were sympathetic but most were cold and callous. I was even laughed at by of one of them, and it had taken me a minute or two to wipe the tears from my eyes.
After that, sheer determination had gotten me through the rest of my list but now, as I stared at the aging building, all hope was beginning to wane. I had one card left to play and I prayed that it would work.
I re-read the last text from Amara: this one’ll be the one. You got this. I’d been complaining to her all day, but she’d encouraged me to keep trying. She was right. I could do this.
I just hoped the loan officer would be a guy—after Garrett ghosted me once I’d sent the nudes, I knew what men wanted.
And now, I had nothing left to lose.
Moving quickly to avoid the notice of the car parking a couple of spaces down, I unhooked my bra, then wrangled it through the sleeves of my shirt. After that, two more buttons came undone, and I was following a brown-haired, mousey man up the walkway.
Dressed in a cheap, dark blue suit and matching polyester tie, he opened the door, then turned and waited for me to enter. As I passed, his eyes immediately latched onto my breasts, a barely hidden sneer to his lips. “Nice knockers.”
A blush flamed my cheeks as his meaning became clear.
He'd seen what I'd done in the car.
I straightened, clearing my throat and walked with my head held high, not bothering to thank him.
"You're welcome, slut,” he grumbled under his breath but I ignored it. He didn’t deserve any gratitude.
The foyer smelled of stale air and rejection. "Good afternoon," the only teller in the room greeted me, her two inch bright pink nails tapping on the fake, wooden paneled countertop. "Can I help you?"
"Hello, I'm looking for your loan department."
Her eyes narrowed in assessment as she took me in. "Sure," her lips turned downward, apparently finding me wanting, "it's over there." She waved in the general direction to my right before tapping on her cell, immediately dismissing me.
I turned towards where she pointed, trying not to let it bother me, and met the gaze of the man who'd opened the door for me. He was staring at me through the glass window of his office.
Great.
I was partly repelled and partly relieved by his rapt gaze on me. At least he’d noticed me earlier, sending a clear signal that he would probably be interested in what I had to offer.
