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On the other end of the line, Danielle clears her throat. “Are you still there?”
“Still here.”
“So, I have the payment information here. It looks like we took the reservation yesterday afternoon, and it was paid by Brock Benson.”
I suck in air. My nostrils flare. “He paid for the reservation?”
I am an idiot, I think, as Danielle confirms.
He always does this kind of thing for women. I’ve read about these big, grand gestures: vacations to Hawaii, extravagant ski trips, gourmet meals at fancy restaurants. I’ve seen photos of him with the women on the receiving ends of his flashy gift-giving, too. They always look quite pleased with themselves, cozied up at his side.
And now I’m one of them.
I let him woo me with grand gestures and gifts. He paid to have my car fixed, he put in the kitchen floors, he bought me this castle stay.
Was it supposed to impress me?
Last night, I told him I didn’t need to be rescued. I meant that. And yet, he tried to act like my Prince Charming anyway… while it suited him.
Now that he’s done with the games, I’m yesterday’s news.
No, thank you.
I will not let him treat me like this.
“Please refund him,” I say, though it’s hard to get words out, given I’m still choking back tears. “Every cent.”
“Are you sure? We’re completely booked up through the end of the month, so you are very lucky to have this reservation. They went quickly, as you can imagine, with the news of our upcoming closure. And a stay in the Queen’s Room is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, I assure you.”
I tug a strand of hair. “Yikes. Shoot.” Her words are hitting home, but I’m not sure what to do about it. “Okay, give me a minute to think, if you don’t mind.”
Internally, I run some numbers. Then, I hold the phone away.
“Lizzy, am I going to get a paycheck this week?”
“Of course.” She nods. “I am so sorry. I should have told you right away. You’ll get that increased hourly you negotiated for, and Brock said to tack three thousand on. Plus, you’ll get paid out for any sick time you haven’t used and vacation time, too.”
The three grand will cover what I owe to the roofer. The rest will be gone in the blink of an eye, too, given all I owe on my credit card and the loan I took out.
It would not be practical to spend money on an overnight stay in a castle.
Not practical at all.
But my grandmother was a wise woman. She knew better than anyone I’ve ever met that practicality is not always the answer. She didn’t buy winter boots and a jacket or fix her car like her pop wanted. She got herself a room in the castle.
Am I really going to do this?
It would be silly.
Frivolous.
Impractical.
I am, as of right now, unemployed. Every penny counts.
I have lost everything. My job. Hopes of love. My dignity, my pride, my self-respect.
When I glance down at the cardboard box propped on the desk, I see her. Grandma Regina beams up at me. In the photo, she’s a young mother with her three little girls all around her.
