Chapter 1
Emma
The box of mint Oreos is calling out to me, so I tear open the package and snag a few before placing it on the conveyor belt. I haven’t eaten all day because I was trying to get as many runs in before it got too dark. I broke my driving glasses, and although I can see pretty well during the day, I’m practically blind at night without them.
The checker carefully reseals my bag of cookies before scanning the barcode and placing them at the other end of the counter. I didn’t plan to get so much stuff tonight but I just deposited $350 into my account so stocking up on toilet paper and pasta isn’t a bad idea. Out of habit, my eyes are glued to the flashing red lights that display the price of each item as it’s scanned.
Shit, I got more stuff than I realized. And that toilet paper rang up at $8.99, but I’m sure the sign said $5.99. I usually buy a smaller pack, but if the twelve-pack is only six bucks, that’s a much better deal and will last three times as long.
“Excuse me,” I whisper to the lady. “Is that price correct? I thought it was on sale.”
She picks up the package and turns it around in her hand as if there’s going to be more information printed on it. Then she pushes a few buttons and rescans it. “Sorry, honey. It’s $8.99. Maybe you were looking at the wrong tag.”
I roll my eyes in frustration. “Yeah, I probably was.”
That’s just awesome. It’s only a few bucks, but every single one counts in my present financial state.
I planned on stopping by the coffee shop on my way home, but I should save that for gas money. Delivering food for a living is great for quick cash, but having to stop at the gas station to fill up every day is a bummer. The four-year-old Honda I bought when I started delivering for Meals2Me was affordable but isn’t as efficient as it could be. Not like the hydrogen car I’ve been drooling over. My downstairs neighbor just bought one, and it’s a beauty.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Your card has been declined.” The checker’s voice isn’t quite as friendly as it was ten seconds ago.
“Wait, what?” I refocus on my groceries, repressing the new car fantasy playing out in my mind. “That’s not possible. I just deposited money today.”
She stares at me for a moment, waiting for me to shut up. “It said declined. Do you have a different card?”
Yeah, I’ve got five. None of those will work either. “How much is the total? I might have some cash.”
“$42.90.” The woman turns to the people in line behind me. “Sorry, folks. It’ll just be a minute.”
God, I want to die. I unzip every pocket in my purse and pray for cash to miraculously appear. Of course, there’s basically zero chance I’ve overlooked any money in the past, but it’s worth a thousandth look. I find a crumpled five-dollar bill tucked under some receipts in my wallet and a handful of change. “I’m sorry. This is all I have.”
She looks at the pathetic offering and then down at my groceries. She lifts the opened package of Oreos and rings them up. “$2.99. Is there anything else you want to add?”
My options for two dollars or less are pretty limited. What I need most are tampons, but that’s three bucks I might not be able to swing in change. This is proof Karma is a man, and he’s punishing me for going shopping while I’m hungry. “No, thanks. Just the cookies.”
She tips her chin once in a sharp nod then takes the bill from my hand. After motioning a bagger over from another register, she asks him to take back all my unpurchased items then hands me two singles and a penny. “Have a nice evening.”
“You too.” I keep my head down and don’t dare look at the people in line behind me. This is one of the most mortifying moments of my life. Not the most mortifying…but it’s right up there in the top five.
The second I get to my car, I pull my phone from my purse and call my bank. They have a twenty-four-hour automated system that will tell me exactly where my money went. When I deposited my check today, I had $23 already in my account. I paid $28 for the water bill and made a minimum payment on my credit card of $54. That should leave me with about three hundred bucks for groceries, gas, and maybe an audiobook to listen to while I’m working.
The robot bitch doesn’t like my clear speaking voice, so I end up using the keypad on my phone to verify my account. That takes at least two minutes before I get to the recent transaction option in the menu.
I don’t know if I want to cry or if I feel relief when I hear the first and most recent transaction of the list. “Body Science Gym, $300.”
That can’t be right. I pay $20 a month for my gym membership, and I canceled it last week, well before the next billing cycle was due. That has to be an error, which means they’ll have to refund my missing three hundred bucks. I don’t really have the time or interest to go chasing down money that should have never been taken from me in the first place, but getting it back will be my number one priority in the morning. Right now, I need to find a dollar menu with fries and a cheeseburger on it because a girl can’t live on Mint Oreos alone.
~**~
First thing in the morning, I get on the phone with my gym to figure out how soon I can get my refund. After an hour of escalating between idiot customer service reps and their managers, I fight back tears and turn on my delivery app, ready to start my day. The best thing about my job as a delivery driver with Meals2Me is that as soon as I earn money, I can instantly deposit it into my checking account. That has kept my belly full on more than one occasion. And today is going to be one of those days. The morning started out slow as usual, but by 11:15, I’m doing my daily circuit of deliveries downtown Murfreesboro.
I love working in the in the heart of town because I don’t have to drive between deliveries. I can walk into a restaurant, run it up into one of the buildings surrounding me, then pick up my next order. And since I don’t have a gym membership anymore, I really need this exercise or else I would just lie in bed all day and feel sorry for myself. And that’s completely unacceptable.
I got myself into my present situation, and I’ll get myself out of it.
I thought what I had with Rick was real, but I was stupid. His pretty face and sexy tattoos lured me into trusting him, when deep down I knew something was off. Even from the beginning, he was always too private. I understood when he wanted to keep his passwords to himself and asked me to let him track my phone so he knew I was safe. I thought it was sweet. But when he didn’t ever remember to turn on the tracking feature on his phone and insisted on me calling before heading home every night, I should have seen the writing on the wall.
But I didn’t.
I held on to the fantasy that he was just a tough alpha and not a sleazy asshole.
I not only let him destroy my heart, but he destroyed my credit, racking up credit card bills while he was wining and dining those sluts with my money. Then he left me with all the utilities and a stack of debt I can barely cover.
Had I not been obsessed with figuring out the name of a song I heard playing last month, we might still be together. Fortunately, Alexa has my back. When I checked the usage logs of my smart-home speaker to look up the song, I was horrified by what I found recorded from the days I was working late. It started with a quick recording of a woman asking my Alexa to play make-out music and got progressively worse from there.
Not the highlight of my month. Or my life.
But he’s gone now, and I’ll come out of this stronger. I know I will. But it looks like I’ll have to fall even further before I can start climbing my way out.