The one and only time I let my financial troubles slip, they promised me a raise if I came home.
The idea of having a bank account with actual money in it again and a free place to live that isn’t infested with mold is almost too tempting to pass up.
My head falls forward against the steering wheel. I really don’t want to give up and go back, but if life doesn’t start going my way soon, I might not have a choice.
Something silver flashes between the seat and the center console.
No way.
My hope builds as I wedge my fingers into the tight gap, straining and wiggling until I manage to snag the stray coin.
Not just any coin. A whole freaking quarter!
I’ve never been so happy to see George Washington’s powdered wig.
Now I have enough for nuggetsandfries. TheHallelujahChoruserupts like a symphony in my mind.
My luck is finally turning around.
The pickup in front of me pulls ahead, and I ease off the brake pedal. My car rolls forward to the backlit menu where an androgynous voice crackles through the tinny speaker, asking for my order. When I drive around to the first window and hand the sour-faced teen a ball of change, she looks like she wants to throw it right back.
Instead, she takes her sweet time counting every penny.
That’s right. I’m desperate enough to use everyone’s least favorite coin to pay for fast food.
As concerned as I am for my arteries, when you’re literally pinching pennies, you can’t be picky about what you put in your stomach. Meg, my only friend at work, brings healthy, elegant lunches like exotic salads and sushi while I mainline peanut butter and jelly.
The joys of being a temp.
None of the benefits of working at a multi-national advertising firm apply to me since I’m not technically their employee, but a lackey for the head-hunters who hired me. I’m lucky to have gotten my foot in the door considering my lack of “relevant” experience.
That’s something I’ll never understand about the world of employment. Everyone wants you to have experience, but how do yougetexperience if no one will hire you?
That will all change in six months, when my contract ends, and my boss gets to choose whether to bring me on board as a permanent employee or send me on my merry way to whatever the next opening might be.
That’s why I’ve been busting my ass since I started three weeks ago. We’re talking first to arrive and last to leave, proving myself as a valuable asset.
Hopefully, someone notices soon because I’d like to have a social life at some point.
By the time I pull into my apartment complex, my hunger is sufficiently sated. Nearly. I would’ve loved one of those hot apple pies, but penny-pinchers don’t get pie.
I swing my legs out of the car and tug down my pencil skirt to keep from flashing my underwear at the guy leaning against a black BMW, puffing on a cigarette.
“Hey, Tony,” I say with a wave.
He lifts his hand in response, dispersing the cloud of smoke floating around his head like that cartoon donkey’s raincloud.
I grab my purse and click the button on my key to lock my car before heading into the main office where Tony’s scarier brother Toby leans back in his black leather chair, his bushy black mustache hiding his entire upper lip.
I don’t need to see his mouth to know he’s frowning. Toby always frowns.
His thick fingers drum against a stack of papers riddled with coffee-mug stains as he scowls across the desk. “Ah, Ms. Piper, Apartment 5136. Your rent is late.”
“Sorry. It totally slipped my mind to come by yesterday.” Pretty sure he knows it’s a lie, but it’s not my fault the first of the month fell on a freaking Wednesday. Payday isn’t till Friday, so if he tried to cash my check before that, it would’ve bounced like one of those rubber balls you get from grocery store vending machines.
Since the banks are now closed for the night, Toby won’t be able to cash the check until tomorrow, when my account will be a little less depressing.
I withdraw my checkbook and fill out the missing information. Tearing along the perforated edge sounds a lot like my soul being ripped in two. With a few careful swipes of the pen, I’m four-hundred dollars poorer.
