I sighed heavily as I hit the “send” button — my thirty-fifth resume of the day going out into the ether.

I scowled as I clicked back to my inbox. No new emails. Of course. I hit refresh twice, just to make sure, but still nothing. Just the weekly “how’s being an adult” email from my mom, the same notice from my cell phone carrier that I was past due, and the same collections agency that now owned my student loans reminding me that I was their slave for life.

Good times.

I reached for the bottle of cheap white wine and poured a fresh splash into my glass — a coffee mug, actually. I wrinkled my nose as I took a swallow, the cheap taste of sugar overpowering anything really “wine”-tasting.

I hit refresh on my email again.

Nothing.

How was “being an adult” going? Well, I had no job and no social life, and no love life since Mike had decided to put his dick in half the female population of his office two months ago. I had a roof over my head — an apartment I shared with my best friend Andrea, but I was behind three months’ rent on my half. Forget about the utilities.

I had four maxed out credit cards, student debts that rivaled the worth of a third world country, and a completely useless degree in art history that pretty much guaranteed my unemployment.

In short, life was currently kicking me in the teeth.

I sighed, pushing my hair back from my face and pouting.

Outside my bedroom, the apartment unlocked with a click, slamming open against the coat rack. I swiveled to see Andrea maneuvering her way in with two armfuls of shopping bags.

My brow wrinkled.

This had been slowly going on for a month or so now. Andrea hadn’t quite gotten to the dire straits I was in, but it’s not like she was made of money either. But then that started to change.

It started with small things — her picking up the tab all too often at happy hour, or when ordering delivery. Then it was new clothes — frequently. But then it moved to her covering my half of the rent when I was short — for months, and without any sort of pressure to pay her back.

I’d caught her getting ready to go out the other night with a brand-new Chanel clutch, Louboutin’s, and this insanely gorgeous new club dress. I’d almost said something, when she’d gotten a phone call, smiled at me, and strolled out.

And now here she was with shopping bags from just about every high-end designer in New York.

My inbox dinged, sending my heart into my throat as I whirled back.

My mouth pursed into a scowl.

Apparently, Sephora was having a sale I might be interested in.

That did it.

I slammed the laptop shut and stepped from my room.

“Need a hand?”

Andrea’s attention jerked up from trying to pull her new, heeled Burberry boots off, her arms still laden with the shopping bags.

“Oh! Uh, hi!” She smiled, and it wasn’t like she had anything to be guilty about with going on a shopping spree, but I could still see it there in her eyes.

I guess my tone didn’t help.

“I thought you were out?”

I shook my head. “Nope. The secretary job called; position filled.”

She made a face. “Sorry, hon.”

“It’s fine, I just— I mean…” I trailed off and looked at my feet. “Look, I know I owe you some serious money, and I really will pay you back. But if you need to get someone else in here who can actually afford this place, just let me—”

“Oh my God, stop,” Andrea rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at me. “It’s fine, really. I know you’ll pay me back when you can.” She grinned. “With thirty percent interest, of course.”

“Oh, right, of course.”

She smiled. “Honestly, who else out there do you think would put up with living with me?”

“You are sort of a slob.”

“Bitch.”

I grinned back at her, before my eyes dropped to her shopping bags.

Her face went red. “Oh, this is just…I mean, I had some returns to make, so I—”

“Andrea.”

Her mouth snapped shut, her lips twisting awkwardly.

“C’mon, you can tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

I gave my old friend a look. “Dude, c’mon. Either you won the lottery or you’re selling drugs or something.”

She smiled, avoiding my eyes. “It’s nothing like that. It’s…”

She trailed off and shrugged.

“Yes?”

Andrea sighed. “Look, there’s this guy, okay?” She immediately shook her head, seeing the look on my face. “It’s nothing like that, he just…” She shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m listening?”

Her eyes darted to mine, blinking quickly. “You don’t want to listen to this.”

My brow furrowed.

Andrea looked scared. Well, no, not scared, just, nervously excited I guess. And she also looked like she was trying to hide that excitement.

“C’mon Andrea, it’s me.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “Which is why I’m asking you to drop it, okay? Look it’s really nothing. Just a guy I met.”

I rolled my eyes, annoyed at her little game of secrets. “Fine, whatever.”

Andrea looked down and I sighed. “Okay, okay, it’s fine. Really. Have your little secrets.”

She grinned. “Delivery sushi for dinner to make it up to you? I’m buying.”

I eyed the Prada and Hermès shopping bags still lying on the floor by the door.

“Damn right you are.”