“That’s nice,” I murmur. I should probably find somewhere to crash. My parents’ place is out of the question—they’re still furious about what happened yesterday evening. Mom’s final text read:You’re such a disgrace. Always wanting what isn’t yours, rather than working to get what you can.
It’s like, what does that even mean? I’ve never wanted what wasn’t mine, and I’ve worked hard for everything I have. The day I turned eighteen was the day my parents asked me to move out and make my own way in the world. And I did, by getting an associate’s degree while waiting tables, and then a full-time job as soon as I was able.
“If you need anything, let me know,” Zoe says kindly.
“Of course. Thanks, Zoe. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
She waves it away. “Just being neighborly. Anyway, I have to get going. I’ll talk to you later.”
I wave her goodbye and sigh, then scan the surroundings. A lot of people are still milling around, dazed because of what they’ve lost. There are exhausted firefighters covered in soot, buzzing cops and EMTs. Ambulances for the elderly and those who inhaled too much smoke while trapped inside. A few local reporters breathlessly speak to their cameras while keeping the charred, still-smoldering structure in the background.
I open the news app on my phone. Articles and videos about the apartment fire are already trending locally. At least nobody died, thank God. No known cause for the fire yet. I sigh. At least my car’s safe in a lot several blocks away. I couldn’t find a spot any closer, so maybe the universe was watching out for me.
The problem is that I don’t have the fob. I only grabbed my phone before rushing down the stairs with Zoe. My laptop’s gone, too.
I place a couple of fingers on my forehead.Shit. There were a couple half-finished memos for Josh on the hard drive, which I hadn’t had a chance to back up.
Okay, I’ve got some time before he arrives.And my first order of business is to make a to-do list on my phone: find a cheap motel or somewhere like that to stay at. File an insurance claim—hopefully they’ll be quick to reimburse, but I have noidea how that’s going to go. I’ve never had to get money out of a renter’s insurance policy before. Usually it just flows from me to them.
I need to figure out what’s going to happen with my security deposit. Hopefully the property management company returns it as soon as possible—Max and I will need it for our next rental.
But the very first thing is to go shopping and at least replace my clothes and shoes and all the basics. I don’t even have a toothbrush right now. I also have to call the banks and see about getting my credit cards and ATM card reissued. Or will that mess up my Apple Pay account? Maybe I should find a local branch for my bank and withdraw some cash. That way I’ll be able to get by until the new cards arrive—
The more I think about it, the more overwhelming everything seems. The only good thing is that I haven’t lost anything that can’t be replaced. All my personal photos are stored in the cloud. My high school year book is toast, but it isn’t going to break my heart. Hopefully Max didn’t lose anything irreplaceable, either.
My stomach growls.I probably should get something to eat.The leftover lasagna last night was smaller than I thought.
A golden Lexus rushes into the compound, way too fast and with lots of tire screeching. I scowl.What’sChaddoing here?
The sedan stops several feet behind a fire truck. The door swings open, and Chad steps out. He’s in a suit with a neatly knotted tie, the picture of success. So apparently his wifedidn’tmurder him last night. He’s even wearing an irritatingly smug smile. What I wouldn’t give to strip that arrogant smirk off his face, especially since I’m standing here in an old T-shirt and boxers. And mismatched sandals. My hair’s likely a mess, too, after our sudden, before-sunrise evacuation.
He stares at the burned husk of the building. “Holy shit, that’s fucking karma,” he says, then covers his mouth with a fist as he cackles.
Oh my God.His lack of humanity makes me want to squirm in shame—why did I ever say yes to his proposal? I need to learn to be a better judge of people. “What are you doing here, Chad?”
His eyes swing in my direction. He parts his mouth, then points at me and laughs. “What the hell? What’s up with the hair?”
“Didn’t really have the time to worry about it when the apartment caught fire,” I say dryly. “Kinda like how you didn’t have the mental capacity to keep up with your lies when I ran into your pregnant wife.”
The mocking chuckle dies. “That was all your fault. You weren’t supposed to be at the restaurant. You said you don’t eat Chinese food!”
“So. Are you telling me you took your wife to Peking Town because you thought you wouldn’t run into me?”
“Well, that and a good meal, obviously. I’m not stupid.”
I give him a slow clap. “Wow. Not mentally challenged, just morally challenged. And a liar, to boot.”
He sniffs. “I didn’tlie. I just omitted a few facts.”
“Uh-huh. That’s still lying.”
“Well, do you blame me? Didn’t you see what Autumn looks like?” Disgust twists his mouth.
What’s wrong with his wife?The biggest mistake that poor woman made was probably marrying him.
My bewilderment seems to piss him off. “She’s like a freakin’cownow! It isn’t much fun trying to have sex with somebody that big. Hard to get it up.”
What the…?My jaw drops.
