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$0.00.
Shit!
Last I remembered, there were several thousand dollars left in there. This branch is open until eight p.m., so I take the risk and go inside.
I eye the cameras but calm down. Kieran can’t be looking for me yet. He’s on his way to his precious fundraiser without me. I hate how it hurts that he didn’t want me to go with him. What the heck did he make me buy all those dresses for?
“Can I help you?” a teller asks me.
“I had a few thousand dollars in this checking account. But it’s showing zero.” I slide the card under the glass.
“I’ll check that for you.” She eyes me suspiciously, like I’m a scammer. “Just type in the PIN on the pad to your right.” When I do, the teller blinks and then stares at me. “All the money was transferred out of this account.” She tells me the date, and I cringe.
The same day that Kieran bought me.
I swallow and take back the card. “Thank you.”
“There is money in the savings account, though,” she says softly, glancing at her monitor.
“What?” My heart starts to pound.
“This is a high-interest money market account. The interest was deposited into a separate savings account.”
“And that…” I stare down at the card, never even once looking at the savings account. “That money is still there?”
“Yes. There’s $184.59.”
I exhale sharply. “Can I take some of that out?”
The teller glances left, then right. “I suggest you take it all out.” It’s like she knows something. Like maybe another teller typed in a note when Papa took all the money out of the checking. Maybe someone told him the savings balance was zero, knowing I’d need the money. Especially if he did that at our neighborhood bank. Someone looked out for me.
Nodding, I say, “Yes. I’ll take it all out.” I enter the PIN again, and next, she’s counting out tens and twenties.
There’s not much I can do with this money after tonight, but at least I can have some fun with my friends and not sponge off them.
I arrive at the club, show my ID, pay the cover fee, and oh… That walk through the tunnel, the cool air on my skin, the smell of fun, and thethump thumpingof the music thrills me.
Samantha, the daughter of a wealthy and somewhat corrupt union boss for my father, scored a VIP table with bottle service. I assume her father is paying, but I don’t have a gift for her. At least I can buy a nice bottle of champagne.
I practically jump over the velvet rope to see my friends. Samantha greets me with a big hug, choking me with how much I missed her. How hard it’s been to be so isolated.
I give both Sam and Ginna a watered-down version of how I ended up married, but still, their jaws drop. They knew I hadn’t expected to be married off so soon. And not at all to a don.
“Let me see the rings.” Ginna grabs my hand. A diamond bracelet dangles from her wrist, holding a flute of Dom P. Fingers with perfectly manicured nails, latch onto mine to inspect my rings.
My nails are long but bare because I haven’t been allowed to leave Kieran’s prison. Still, I wave the gorgeous rings my rich husband bought me. I kept them hidden in my schoolbag at the coffee bar because I had every intention of wearing them. I’m a married woman with no plans to betray my husband. Even if our marriage isn’t entirely real to him, he wears his ring every day. He hasn’t been to his club, either. He made that sacrifice to be faithful to me. It’s only fair I give him the same courtesy.
“Hmmm.” Ginna doesn’t seem too impressed.
“They’re gorgeous.” Samantha grabs my hand from hers, probably seeing the look of disappointment on my face from Ginna dissing me. “You’re just jealous, Gi.”
Ginna shrugs and starts scrolling through her phone. When she waves an empty champagne bottle, another one is shoved into the standing ice bucket.
“The next bottle is on me.” I snatch a flute and sit with my knees pinned.
I also asked the teller at the bank if I could use their restroom to change into my short red dress with an open, asymmetrical back. My jeans, blazer, and designer T-shirt are shoved inside my schoolbag. The early September weather stays quite warm in New York, so I didn’t bother with an extra jacket.
I don’t worry about it getting chilly later since I plan to call Christian and confess where I am, as I promised in my note. No doubt, he’ll come get me. I also don’t worry about my husband finding out because he went to a fundraiser and will be out late. He won’t miss me and I doubt he’s even thinking about me.
