Sighing, I open the first letter. Final notice. The next two are the same. With a shake of my head, I toss the bills back over with the rest of them.
It turns out checking my email is even more depressing. The first two are from suppliers, letting me know that my latest checks had bounced. Lucky for me, I have a good enough relationship with both of them to buy me some extra time. Not that it’s going to help much. I could have a month to fix all of these up, and I still wouldn’t be able to cover them. Shit just keeps getting worse.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
I stand up, the crate shooting from under me and against the wall. I have to refrain from picking it up and tossing it harder into the wall. The only thing stopping me is that would be sure to attract the attention of the guys. I pace the cramped trailer, raking my hands through my hair in a bid to try to figure out a solution, but there isn’t one.
This is ridiculous.
It's not supposed to be this hard. Starting my own business was supposed to be a step up. I really thought I could do it too, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I'm not cut out for this.
My parents were so proud of me. My family has been through a lot, so for me to break free from that and build my own business from nothing was a big deal. Maybe there was something I could've done differently. Maybe I went in too fast, without letting myself get my head around what it took to run a business. I should have been more focused on the business side of things and not let things fall behind. The more I owe people, the harder it is to catch up. I kept telling myself a big job would come along and everything would be okay, but it never did. I even went around knocking on doors, trying to solicit business, but that went nowhere. It’s like every step forward I end up taking two steps back. I'm sick of it. I’m sick of everything.
The worst thing is when I look around, all I see is people who take what they have for granted. Half the people in this goddamned town have more money than they know what to do with.
Hell, some of Holly's friends spend more in a day than I could in a year, and they do it without a second thought. I try not to be jealous, because it's not my style, but sometimes it gets to me. Here I am doing everything I can to save myself from drowning, and they don't think twice about spending a grand on a pedicure.
“Then snap out of it and do something about it,” I mutter to myself.
So what if life isn’t fair? Sitting around here whining about it isn’t going to fix anything. I need to keep trying. Keep pushing until something breaks. With any luck, it won’t be me.
I grab my things, a new lease of energy surging through me. I’ll go down to the bank and talk to Peter. Maybe he can help me out. Having a cousin who is the manager at a local bank must have some perks, right?
Though I know there’s only so many times he can bail me out.
***
I drive through the streets of Savannah, looking for a parking space. It’s busy, especially for Wednesday, because people are out making the most of the morning before it gets too humid. Eventually I get a spot a few blocks away, figuring the walk will do me good. I can get my head clear and figure out what I'm going to say to Peter this time.
He increased my overdraft last month when he probably shouldn’t have. This time I’m not counting on his help. Not when I’m so close to defaulting on everything. I wouldn’t call us close—in fact, these days it seems the only time I speak to him is at family gatherings, or when I need money, but he’s a good guy. I know he’ll do whatever he can to help me out. If he can’t help me, then I’m as good as fucked, because I’m fast running out of options.
Oomph.
Grunting, I stumble back. It takes me a moment to realize I’ve collided with someone. I look up, not sure whether to be apologetic or annoyed. My eyes widen when I realize I know this person. It’s Valentina, one of my little sister’s friends. It’s been a couple of years since I last saw her, but fuck she’s looking good.
“Hey, watch it…” she shouts then eyes me, familiarity donning on her. “Oh, hey, Hudson.” Her annoyance gives way to surprise. She smiles at me, and I smile back, sure I saw a flash of something in her eyes. “How are you?” she asks. “It’s been a while.”
“Valentina,” I murmur. “It’s been a long while. I’m good.” Not a complete lie. I do suddenly feel better than I’ve felt all day. “How are you? You’re looking great,” I add.
For the first time I notice how dressed up she is. I swallow, because the way that short black skirt clings to her petite curves is making me think things I probably shouldn’t be thinking about my sister’s friend.
“Where are you going all dressed up like that?” I ask, clearing my throat. “Hot date?”
It shouldn’t bother me, but the thought of her going on a date with some dude gets to me. I shrug it off, because I’ve got enough on my mind at the moment without adding girls into the mix—especially one as high maintenance as Valentina.
“No.” She makes a face as her cheeks go red. I smirk, because she’s even cuter when she’s blushing. “I have a job interview, actually.”
“A job interview?” I repeat with a laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?”
She puts her hand on her hip, making her cleavage even harder to look away from, and then she glowers at me, her blood red lips twisting into a pout.
“You find that funny?” she growls.
“Well, yeah. I kind of do,” I admit, rubbing my jaw to disguise my amusement. “I was under the impression that people work for you. You don’t work for them.”
“Well, things change,” she mutters, looking down at her feet.
I can’t argue with that. They change all right.
“So what’s the job?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“It’s a retail role. In a top end children’s clothing boutique,” she drawls, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”
My lips twitch as a memory of her at my little cousin Harmony’s sixth birthday party two years ago flashes through my mind. I can’t think of anything less suited to Valentina than customer service or working around children.
“Is there something you want to say?” she growls, placing a perfectly manicured hand on her hip.
“Good luck?” I offer.
God, to be a fly on the wall of that interview. That would sure take my mind off my problems. She glances at her watch and sighs, then tosses me an annoyed look.
“Great. Now you’re making me late.”
“What?” I laugh. “You ran into me. Besides, I think you being late will be the least of your worries.” I grin.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she retorts.
“Just that you don’t have much experience. Or motivation.”
“Excuse me. Are you done?” she growls. Then she shakes her head and laughs. “I don’t have time for this.”
She mutters something else under her breath that I’m pretty sure is an insult and then flounces off without so much as a goodbye. I stand there in her wake, watching her strut down the sidewalk until she’s disappeared from my sight.
Valentina working? Waitressing or working in a bar I could almost believe. Hell, I could even see her meeting the minimum requirements and not getting fired from an office job. But a children’s clothing boutique, or anything involving kids, for that matter? I bet she won’t even last a day.
With one last look in her direction, I push her from my mind and focus on why I’m here.
Time to face the music.
CHAPTER THREE
Valentina
I don’t dare look back.
Even if part of me really wants to, I refuse to give Hudson the satisfaction. So what if I don’t have much experience in retail … or any career for that matter? I’m a hard worker and a fast learner. Not that I’d expect him to know that, because the last time I saw him was two years ago.
We used to see each other all the time when we were kids. He used to go out of his way to annoy Holly and I. S
he hated it. I pretended to as well, but secretly, I liked the attention. Still, even back then, the thought of Hudson as anything other than Holly's annoying older brother has never even entered my mind.
Glancing at my phone, I curse. Great. Now I really am running late.
I sprint the few blocks down Liberty St, to the high-end children's clothing boutique where my interview is being held, bursting through the doors with not even a second to spare.
Even if I’m out of breath and in danger of heaving up a lung, on time is on time, right?
A woman looks up from behind the register, her eyes full of alarm, like she’s weighing up whether to call me an ambulance.
“Hi, I’m here for the job interview,” I blurt out once I’ve caught my breath. She glances at the clock on the wall and lifts an eyebrow.
“You’re late.”
Sure, by about thirty seconds.
“I was right on time when I walked through the door,” I can’t resist replying.
She gives me another onceover, before lifting to her feet, then without a word, she walks out the back. I stand there awkwardly.
Should I be following her?
“Are you coming?” she calls out, answering my thoughts. I wince at the irritated edge to her tone.
This is off to a fine start.
Taking a deep breath, I plaster on a smile and stalk around the counter and out through the back. I enter the small, cramped office and glance around. There’s shit everywhere. She motions for me to sit, so I carefully stack the papers piled up on the chair on the floor and then sit. I watch as she thrusts papers aside on her desk, a perplexed look on her face. This woman makes me feel organized, which is impressive.
“You emailed through your CV, didn’t you?” she murmurs. “I’m sure it was just here.” Then she laughs. “Sorry. This has been a hell of a morning already. Valentina, right?” I nod, forcing a confident smile as I watch her run a hand through her hair.
And I thought I was having a bad day.
I’m sure we’re just going through the motions. She’ll ask me a few questions and then politely tell me she’ll let me know.
“I’m Dana,” she says, half-heartedly offering me her hand. “Okay,” she declares, snapping her laptop shut and then sitting back in her chair. Her eyes lock on mine. “Other than you like to turn up to interviews late, what can you tell me about yourself?”
Okay then.
I open my mouth, ready to defend myself, but I stop when I remember how much I need this job. The worst thing is that I can feel it slipping away from me with every passing second. She doesn’t care why I’m late or want my excuses. She just wants to continue with her shit day so it can be over faster. I need to do something and now, but as I open my mouth, she puts her hand up to stop me.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair,” she apologizes. “I shouldn’t be taking my frustrations out on you, but I’ve had one person quit on me, and my morning regular just called in sick.” She laughs, the stress showing on her face. “Today, of all days.”
“How about I show you what I can do then?” I brainwave.
“Pardon?” She looks surprised.
“I mean, we can sit here and run through my experience.” Which granted, will take less than a minute. “Or I can help you out, and you can see for yourself why you need to hire me.”
She stares at me like she’s weighing up whether to take a chance on me, so I stare right back at her, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. I’m a master at that. Years of being my father’s daughter has taught me to hide my emotions when I need to.
“Okay.” She nods. “I’ll give you a shot. Come on then.”
I follow her to the front, hiding my smile. Thank God I dodged that bullet. Sure, I have no experience, and this could totally fail, but really, how bad can it be?
The answer is very bad.
The last three hours have been up there with the worst of my life. Who knew serving privileged parents who seem to be under the impression that my sole purpose in life is to wait on them would be pure hell? It was saved only by the few moments I got to spend with their children. Dressing up little girls in princess dresses and making little babies smile? That’s why I applied for this job. Too bad everything else sucks. Not to mention everything I touched, I screwed up.
I had to drag Dana out the front every time I served a customer, because I couldn’t figure out how to operate the cash register. Then, to top it all off, I undercharged a lady $200 for a dress for her daughter. No doubt that will be coming out of my paycheck. Yep, there’s no way she’ll be asking me to come back.
I would’ve been better going through with the interview.
“Valentina?”
I take a quick breath in and then smile at Dana, who motions for me to join her.
Here it comes…
I’m sure I’m about to get the ‘I’m sorry, I just don’t think it’s going to work’ spiel, but her big smile is throwing me off. Maybe she’s just really happy at the thought of telling me how bad I did? That’s probably it.
“You did really well,” she gushes.
Huh?
That was unexpected.
How could she possibly be happy with my performance? Either she’s delusional from lack of sleep, or her other staff were even more incompetent than me.
“Here,” she says, thrusting an envelope into my hands. I stare at it, confused.
“I figured I’d pay you outright for today and then get you on the books for your next shift. Is that okay?” she explains. She frowns when she catches sight of my expression. “You look surprised.”
“Yes, it’s fine.” I laugh. “I’m sorry. I think I was expecting you to tell me it wasn’t going to work,” I confess. “I didn’t think I did very well at all.”
“Are you kidding?” She gives me an encouraging smile. “You helped me out of a tight spot, and I completely threw you in the deep end. It couldn’t have been easy starting without any warning. Are you available tomorrow?” she adds.
“Sure.” I smile, even though the thought of putting in another shift is already exhausting me.
I keep telling myself that this will all be worth it when I have money rolling in. This first paycheck is just the beginning. With any luck it will be enough to keep the landlord off my back, and after a few weeks, I’ll be back on my feet. Things have changed enough already, so knowing things will be okay if I can just keep my head above water until this thing with my father is sorted comforts me a lot.
The first chance I get, I make my escape and rush to my car. The moment I slide into the front seat, I pull out the envelope and stare at it excitedly.
My first paycheck.
It’s such a stupid, little thing that would probably mean nothing to anyone else. For me, it’s a huge moment, because I did it. This proves I can look after myself. If only Hudson could see me now. This would wipe the smirk off his face.
I carefully slide my finger along the edge and then peek inside. My heart races as I count through the bills. I frown and count through them again, sure there’s some mistake. $143 for the whole afternoon's work? Is she kidding me? I blink back tears. I could work twenty-four hours a day, every day of the month and it still wouldn't cover rent. I'm screwed. That’s all there is to it.
All the work in the world isn't going to help me out of this mess.
I’m so angry at my father right now.
The worst thing is they still won’t let me see him.
All his lawyers will say is for me to sit tight and wait, but how can I when I don’t know what’s going on? It’s not just about the money either. He lied to me. Our whole life was a joke, and I have to sit here and live through the aftermath alone.
As if on cue, my phone rings. I jump, my heart soaring that it might be him, but it’s only Holly. The disappointment quickly disappears when I remember that she’s the only person I’d consider talking to about this. I need to get it out before I go crazy.
“Hello?”
“A job interview?” Holly demands.
Hudson.
Anger bubbles inside me. He just couldn’t keep his mouth shut, could he? I bet he laughed his ass off when he told her too.
“Let me guess,” I say flatly. “Hudson.”
“He may have mentioned it…”
“You mean between fits of laughter?” I retort.
“Who cares who told me, V. What the hell is going on?” Holly’s voice is laced with concern. “Since when do you work? Does this have something to do with what happened at the day spa?” she asks.
I frown. Could she really not have figured out what’s going on? I dismiss the thought quickly, because she has to know. All of Savannah knows. My father’s face has been all over the news. I can feel people staring at me when I walk down the street.
“You don’t know?” I ask. “Don’t you watch the news?”
“What are you talking about, V?” she asks, frustrated. “You know I don’t watch the news. I avoid the news at all costs. It’s way too depressing. What is going on?”
“My father is being investigated for fraud,” I whisper. “Which means all his accounts—and mine—have been frozen.”
“Fraud?” she gasps. “Wait, they froze everything? As in you have no money?”
“Right.” I laugh bitterly. “This whole thing is fucked. It doesn’t even matter that I got a job, because it’s not enough. I could do ten jobs, and it wouldn’t make a difference.”
“Hey, don’t talk like that,” she chastises.
“No, I’m serious,” I grumble. “I got paid for today. A whopping $143. Do you know how many shifts I’d need to work to cover rent?”
“That’s actually pretty good,” Holly reasons. “Above minimum wage. Wait, they made you start today? That's pretty harsh.”
“No, I convinced her to give me a trial run instead of going through the interview,” I explain.
“To mask the fact that you have no experience?” Holly sniggers. “I’m not sure whether to laugh or be impressed. Look, come over to my place. We’ll brainstorm together and figure this out.”
Baby Inheritance Page 2