9.
Sass checked her inbox again. Nothing. She flicked over to social media. Nothing. She'd checked her feed so often that the same stories were rotating over and over and she'd read all of them. Worse, there were no messages. Nada. Nil. Zip. Her phone was resolutely silent, and her bank account was...empty. Nothing had come of the cards she’d given out at Cara’s wedding, and with Kirk Anderson’s office still not having sent back the leather jacket, she was looking at going bust, fast.
Standing, she started to pace the room. It was only 150 square feet, so it didn't take long. God, her apartment was a mess. No, more than a mess. Her apartment was a nightmare of unfinished projects and half-fulfilled dreams. Her sewing machine sat on the kitchen table, a stack of fabric beside it from where she'd decided to make some accessories for a client she'd thought loved her at Helen Bernstein's. In the corner were a couple of old wooden crates she was going to turn into bookshelves. And in the kitchenette... “That's just gross.” She walked over the bench and tossed last night's pizza and the melted remnants of a tub of double choc-chip ice cream into the trash before they added cockroaches to her list of woes.
The phone rang, and she dived for it. “Hunters and Collectors. Sass speaking.”
“Hey, it's me.”
“Oh.” Sass slumped.
“Nice to talk to you too.” Cara's voice was bright. Too bright.
“Aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
“I'm at the airport.”
“Oh. Right.” The envy rippled through Sass. She didn't resent her friend's happiness, not for a moment. But did she wish she had what Cara now had? Absolutely.
“Hey. You're too quiet. I can hear your brain eating you up from the inside.”
“Something like that.”
“Business not so great then?”
“I'm sure it'll pick up,” Sass lied. Who had she been kidding when she thought she could start her own business with so little collateral and no reputation?
The silence grew, and Sass felt the need to fill it. “I'm so sorry again. For ruining your wedding. I've been having flashbacks, and it can't have been pretty.”
Cara's laugh was loud in her ear, and Sass recoiled. “Oh, honey. If he hadn't been such an ass to you it would have been the highlight of the day.” Sass heard a male voice muttering in the background and remembered, of course, they were at the airport. Joe was sitting right next to her friend. “Except for the part where I married Joe of course.” There was a short male laugh and Sass pictured the two of them sitting on a shared seat, their heads together. “I can't believe you got stuck in the elevator and then...I still wanna laugh when I remember the look on his face when the doors first opened.”
Sass didn't even want to think about the look on his face. It had been painful. Embarrassment that quickly turned to disdain. When he'd said those things about her, his lip had curled like he was talking about a flea infested rat. A flea infested rat who had threatened to bite him and infect him with some lethal and painful disease. She had never felt so small. Especially after she'd just shared so much personal stuff with him only minutes before. Personal and intimate. Oh god, she wanted to hide under her bed and never come out again. It was probably a good thing she didn't have any clients. How would she ever look them in the eye and not think they were snickering about her behind her back to their friends.
“He had no right to talk about you like that. He's an uptight prick, and you can tell him I said that.”
Sass sighed. “Hopefully I'm never going to see him again.”
“That's my girl.” Then, as if Cara was reading her mind, she said. “Don't worry about it. Honestly, most people had left by then, and those that were there are pretty close friends. They'd never blab.”
Well, at least there was that. “Bastard still has one of my jackets.”
“Send him a bill. He can afford it.”
“I’m going to. But anyway. You're about to head overseas. Go enjoy your life. You've earned it.”
Cara was silent a moment, and Sass thought she was going to ring off. “Don't let people like Kirk Anderson get under your skin, babe. I remember that feeling. I locked myself in a hotel room with my dogs and ate chocolate for a week when I thought I'd lost everything. It wasn't pretty. And then Joe came through for me. This is going to happen for you, okay? I know it is. When I get back, we're going to go through Joe's phone book and call all the wives of the fancy pants guys he's been playing golf with the last ten years. You'll be so busy you'll look back at this time longingly.”
Sass laughed, but a part of her died inside. Was this what it was going to be like? Getting clients from her friend's husbands? Clients who would probably be better off going to Helen Bernstein and finding the latest trends that fit their body shape? Where were all the people aching to burst out their true selves? Where were the old women from the coffee shop she walked past each day who weren't afraid to reveal themselves to the world? She wanted to ask Cara all of that and more, but instead, she just thanked her and told her to have a great time before she hung up the phone.
Cara was right about one thing though. She was never going to take what Kirk Anderson said to heart. The guy had no idea about people. No idea about what it meant to really live.