“I’m trusting you, but I’m twenty-eight. It’s my turn to meet Prince Charming.” She turns and runs smack into a tall man in a dark wool coat, and he’s handsome.
One shot, friend. I quietly cheer her on. “You got this.”
After watching two strangers fall in love at first sight, a girl can dream for her friend on the street. I rush to the corner to catch a cab back to the hotel to shower and get to Keats’s place. I throw my arm in the air and step off the curb to get in the taxi that slammed on its brakes to pick me up.
The job hadn’t really crossed my mind once I left. We’ve been closed for the holidays, so I haven’t had to face or deal with it. Nobody knows I’m not going to show up next week. Do I give them the courtesy of submitting a resignation or just walk away from my father’s company like I am him?
Between the cards and cash I have on hand, I have enough money to cover the rent for a year. That doesn’t concern me. It’s the other stuff. The living stuff—food, bills, my phone, taxi rides, clothes, travel, and more than I can list off the top of my head. Am I naive for thinking I could pull this off? Dumb for even trying?
I can get another job. I have a degree and a résumé I’ve built, even if it’s not particularly impressive, since it was a job my father created to keep me occupied. But it counts, and I did a damn good job at it.
I hate that my hands are shaking, and my stomach is twisting in turmoil. This shouldn’t be happening. It was a new beginning for me, but now my past is catching up with me and ruining my present.Take a breath, Sosie. Breathe in. Hold it. And slowly exhale. It’s going to be fine.Everything is working in my favor.I manifest several times before the car pulls up to the hotel. I dash up the short flight of stairs, and though I’m not running inside the small lobby, my pace is still quickened.
“Ms. Stansbury?”
I hear my name just as I punch the button for the elevator. I look back. A woman waves her arm like she’s trying to flag down the Coast Guard from a dinghy. Our eyes connect when she leans over the desk. “Yes?”
The elevator dings, making me want to hop on. The sooner I get changed, the sooner I get to Keats. He’ll give the pep talk I need, and he’s a finance guy. Surely, he can help me put something together, so I understand my options and how long I have before I need to have a paycheck coming in again. I walk to the desk since the hotel attendant calls my name again. “Hi,” I say, standing in front of her with a big smile like I’m seeing my personal shopper at Chanel and she’s the key to scoring the exclusive bag I want.
“Sorry to interrupt your day, but there’s been a matter of payment declination.”
My brain riddles through the last word like it’s foreign to me, which isn’t entirely untrue. “I don’t understand.”
“Your card has been declined,” she snaps. “We’ll need another to add to our file. Unfortunately, due to this mis-happenstance . . .” Is she screwing with me? I’m absolutely positive that is not a real word. “We’ll need to charge the full stay this time.”
Glancing around, I see a couple having cocktails on the couch, but otherwise,thank God, I don’t have an audience for this humiliation. “That’s not a problem,” I whisper, keeping my voice down like my head as I dig through the purse tucked between my hip and the heavy coat I’m wearing. She peeks up at me every few seconds as if I can magically produce another credit card. Fortunately, I can since I grabbed the stack from my dresser.
She’s typing on a keyboard. I’m sure she’s making a note that I’m a delinquent guest.Ugh.I tap the counter with another card, then hand it to her. “There’s no credit limit on this one.”
Her fake smile vanishes quickly as she snatches the card and slides it down the card reader. We both wait in painful silence while our eyes volley between each other’s and to the machinefor the card to clear. “I’mmmsorry. This one has also been declined.”
“What?” I rapidly blink a few times. “But there’s no limit. It’s limitless.” I hate the way I sound like a fool who can’t shut her mouth. The woman knows without me having to explain. “Do you mind trying it again?”
“Of course, Ms. Stansbury.”
Was that loud or just my embarrassment kicking in? Does the entire city need to know I’m being rejected repeatedly?
A throb in my head matches the heavy beats in my chest when I pretend to scratch an itch on my shoulder using my chin. I peer around the place for any eyewitnesses to my utter humiliation. Fortunately, it’s not busy at this hour. Sure, the couple drinking glance at me, but I don’t think they can hear what’s happening across the lobby. I exhale to relieve the pressure, but embarrassment is already strangling my neck.
“Ms. Stansbury?—”
“Oh God.” I startle, protectively covering my heart with my hand. “Yes?”
“Are you alright?” There’s no concern in her eyes, but there is impatience.
“Depends on if that card goes through or not,” I joke, but I’m unable to laugh. “I appreciate you trying these for me.” My voice isn’t louder than a mouse as I press against the counter, hoping no one else can hear me.
She sets the card down beside the keyboard on top of the other, and I swear I see a devious glint in her eyes when she looks back at me. “Declined.”
It’s then that I realize, this is by design with my father as the architect. He knows I’m gone . . . fear rattles through me as I pull out another card for her to try. There’s no hope, but a lot of mortification tied up in me asking for one more chance.
“Declined as well.”
I can’t hold my chin up anymore. My cheeks are flaming hot, and I’m close to tearing up when I offer one more card to run through the machine. “I’m so sorry for wasting your time.” I have more cards, but the outcome is obvious, so there’s no point in making either of us continue this suffering.
“You will need to pay for the nights you’ve stayed.”
Ironically, I haven’t stayed. It’s only been a landing place for my belongings until I figure out the next steps. I hand her my debit card, which swipes just fine, but my cash is limited, unlike what that card was supposed to be. I sign the receipt and set the pen down. Knowing I don’t have the cash on hand to stay here and cover months of rent and living expenses, I say, “I’ll need to check out, please.”
