by KB Winters
I was miserable. And even worse than that—I couldn’t let anyone know. Which only perpetuated the cycle of misery. Whenever my parents called, I slapped on a smile, infused some cheer into my voice, and gushed about my job and my make-believe friends and the things I’d seen or done since arriving. To anyone back home, I was living the dream, and I was going to keep that rouse going as long as possible.
Fake it till ya make it, baby!
And then Doom’s Day hit.
A week ago, I was called into my boss’s office. I stupidly thought it was to receive some kind of holiday bonus. But instead, a bomb was dropped right onto my head. I was being let go. My department was being disbanded and I was no longer needed.
Two weeks before Christmas!
Who did that? Who let people go right before the jolliest—not to even mention expensive—time of the year?
The monsters that lived on Wall Street, that was who.
So, instead of filling out embossed foil Christmas cards for all of my friends and family—I spent my evenings at my coffee table filling out online job applications. In place of decorating festive cookies, I was digging through my shoebox-sized Manhattan apartment, looking for things to hock at the local pawn shop, trying to scrape together enough cash to combine with my paltry severance pay, in order to buy myself a little more time.
Otherwise, I was going to end up with an eviction notice as an early Christmas gift.
The only bright spot on the horizon was knowing that in a week’s time, I’d be back in my home state, sunny California, surrounded by my family and the people who are always there for me. I was most excited to see my brother Rick, his wife Vanessa, and their new little bundle of joy, Kayla, who was just about to pass her four-month milestone. I hadn’t even met her yet, my own niece! Wall Street didn’t stop for things like births or deaths or weddings or birthdays. A lesson I’d learned the hard way when I’d put in for a day off and was denied and then laughed out of the HR office when I meekly explained that it was my birthday and I wanted to spend it with some girlfriends at the spa.
It was disheartening to find that after years spent getting my master’s degree in economics, dreaming of the buzz and excitement of life in the Big Apple, it was a lot less like Sex and the City and a lot more like The Shawshank Redemption.
Sigh.
“Soon you’ll be home,” I reminded myself under my breath as I rummaged through my closet. Juniper, my calico, meowed in agreement from her perch on the end of my bed. “What do you think, Juni? No place like home?”
Great. I was beginning to sound like Dorothy, lost in Oz. Now, if only I had some ruby slippers.
I bet the pawn shop on Thirty-Second would snap those puppies up in a hurry.
Juniper lowered her head to the bed, her large green eyes following me as I picked my way through the small pile of clothing I’d gathered at the end of the bed. Which one did I want to wear? I had fifteen minutes to get ready before I needed to be out the door. At six o’clock I was meeting Lonnie Andrews, the only friend I’d made since arriving in the city, for happy hour at a trendy little, hole in the wall bar we used to escape to after work. We’d worked together up until last week and she’d insisted on meeting up before I flew home, to have one last drink.
I just hoped I could find some half-drunk patron to buy mine for me. With that in mind, I reached for the short, tight, eggplant purple cocktail dress. “Guess that means you’re the winner,” I said to the dress. It was the kind of dress that always got me a lot of extra eyeballs and more than a few offers to buy my drinks. “Great, Ruby.” I scowled at my reflection in the long mirror beside the closet. “Whoring yourself out for Lemon Drops and Long Islands now, huh?”
I sighed and undressed. Whatever.
I needed to get good and silly tonight and at fourteen bucks a pop, I wasn’t gonna get there on the strength of my own bank account. It wasn’t like I was going to let any of the suckers who bought me drinks actually touch me. That was the last thing I wanted.
Another way that life in the city had let me down. There were no available men anywhere! At least, not the kind that I was interested in. The ones I’d had the misfortune of meeting were all self-absorbed, egotistical, douchebags who thought that the label on their suit gave them the right to be complete asshats and still have women falling at their feet.
Or, more accurately, into their beds.
Nope. Not this girl.
Sorry, boys. I was waiting for a real man. Not some little frat boy playing dress up.
* * * *
As expected, the dress worked like a charm, and while I had to beat off a few lewd comments, my drinks were free and my bank account remained in the black despite the four Lemon Drops I’d plowed down. I was going to hate myself in the morning from the sugar and alcohol-hangover, but for the minute—I was flying high. Lonnie was just as tipsy by the time we lurched from the bar, back into the freezing cold air.
I gasped as the wind whipped at my bare legs, my teeth instantly starting to chatter. “Damn, it gets dark so fast this time of year! It feels like it’s freakin’ midnight out here,” I complained, starting down the street. “It’s barely nine o’clock.”
Lonnie laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, it’s more fun to see all the Christmas lights when it gets dark earlier.”
I nodded, not quite sure I agreed with the sentiment. I wasn’t used to New York City yet and night time still unnerved me. I really needed to stop watching so many episodes of Law & Order: SVU.
“You want a taxi?” Lonnie asked, glancing both ways up the street. It was a quieter part of the city—if there was such a thing—but a few yellow cabs sped down the street in both directions.
I paused at the edge of the sidewalk. I’d saved a bundle on the absurdly overpriced Lemon Drops, but I was still running low and had no idea when I’d be back to work. I knew I should save myself the cab fare and walk…but the chill in the air made each passing cab look incredibly inviting. After a long moment, I shook my head, deciding to hoof it back to my apartment. It was only nine blocks away.
Only. Ha!
I plastered on a smile over my original grimace and waved off Lonnie’s offer to flag one down for me. “Nah. I’ll walk. Maybe the lights will make me feel less Grinch-y.”
Lonnie laughed as she tossed her curtain of black hair over her slim shoulders and gave me a quick hug. “All right, doll. I’ll see you when you get home from your trip! Say hi to the fam for me.”
I nodded, promising that I would, even though she’d never met any of them. “Have a good Christmas, too!”
Lonnie smiled and waved as she wandered down the other street, her path slightly zig-zagging as she went tottering away in her five-inch stiletto heels. My own shoes weren’t quite as high and I managed to start my walk home without rolling an ankle.
As I walked, I took Lonnie’s advice and smiled at the scattered twinkle lights people and businesses had strung up along the exteriors of the homes and shops I passed. Soon I’d be in California, warm, sunny and surrounded by my family. I’d figure out my next move and not feel so lonely. It was all going to be okay.
My apartment building loomed up ahead and relief rushed through me. I was going to grab Juniper and bury us both under a stack of blankets for the rest of the night since I’d finish packing in the morning.
Relief quickly turned to cold dread as an arm wrapped around my waist and yanked me from my path. A gloved hand slipped over my mouth, the thick fabric muffling my gasp.
A hot breath skimmed my frozen cheek. “Scream and you’re fucking dead.”
Chapter Three
Ruby
“Lay down your purse and jewelry and you can walk away,” the man growled into my ear.
My heart plummeted at the gravelly voice. Inside my head, screams for help echoed, but I couldn’t make myself push them past my lips. As far as I could tell, he didn’t have a weapon on him. From the way I was pressed against him, and the strength of his grip around m
y waist, he was taller and a lot stronger than me. He wouldn’t need a weapon to hurt me. Badly. The alley he’d yanked me into was pitch black. No security lights or any other sounds. No one walking by on the street, just yards away, would be able to see me in distress.
I was alone with this bastard.
He still had a hand pressed over my nose and mouth. My eyes watered as my lungs screamed to suck in a full breath. It was like being underwater too long and suddenly panicking as your body realized it was nearly out of oxygen. “Got it?”
I nodded frantically, tears welling at the corners of my eyes.
“Good,” he said, a sickening smile audible in his tone. My stomach churned and my knees threatened to give way. “Now, put them down on the ground and don’t turn around. Then you can go. No crazy ideas, or—”
Something hard pressed into my side. A gun!
My heart hammered even more violently. I nodded again, even harder. I understand. Please, just let me go! Please…
The man released me and I nearly hit the ground. I forced my muscles to work—in slow motion—and bent to set my purse down on the ground. With trembling fingers, I reached up to remove the earrings I’d selected for the night. As I removed them, I silently said a prayer of thanks that I hadn’t worn my only pair of real diamonds—the only authentic piece of jewelry I’d kept back from the pawn shop. They were my grandmothers. I wouldn’t part with them under any circumstances.
I set the silver hoops on top of the purse and then fished the necklace from around my neck, cursing under my breath as it got snagged in my hair. My hair was cut into a long, angular bob and was shorter than I normally kept it, but still managed to get tangled and in the way all too often.
When the jewelry was sitting on my purse, I slowly rose from my bent position and squeezed my eyes tightly, hoping the mugger didn’t have any other plans in mind. A long duster concealed my short dress but it was fitted enough that my figure was on display for the monster lurking in the shadows. I just hoped he wasn’t interested. “That’s everything I have,” I said softly, my voice wavering. “Please, just let me go. I—I didn’t see your face. I—I won’t call the co—cops.”
“Good. It’s too bad I don’t have more time,” he said, chuckling under his breath.
I shuddered, knowing that I’d never forget the sound of the cruel laugh for the rest of my life.
“Go home, pretty little thing.”
My legs shook as I tottered forward, only managing two tiny steps. I opened my eyes again and hoped that the mouth of the alley wouldn’t be the last thing I’d ever see. Hopefully, this wasn’t a trick. From behind me, I heard him pick up my purse and jewelry and then he took off at a run in the opposite direction. I bolted, running as fast as I could go, and I didn’t stop until I reached the front of my apartment building.
“Shit!” I gasped, collapsing against the door. I didn’t have my keys. My phone. My wallet.
The asshole mugger had taken everything.
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as I stood helplessly in front of my apartment building. The electric doorbells were posted but I didn’t know anyone else. I found the one that belonged to my neighbor and pressed it firmly.
“Hello? Who’s there?”
“Help! Please, I—” A sob tore free, cutting off my words. I swallowed hard and forced myself to get it together. “Please help me! I was just mugged and they took my keys. I live next door, in 92B. Can you buzz—”
The door unlatched with a loud click and a sob of relief broke free from my lips. “Thank you!”
I raced up the stairs and when I arrived at my floor, my neighbor—Ms. Lou, from the name on the doorbell panel—was standing in the hallway. “Are you okay, dear?” she asked, her eyes wide.
I nodded but then promptly broke down into tears.
She rushed toward me and wrapped an arm through mine, leading me into her apartment. “Oh, dear. Here, come inside and use my phone to report it to the police and I’ll put on some tea.”
I stared at the door to my own unit, thinking of Juniper in there, all alone. I sucked in another sob and nodded at Ms. Lou’s advice.
Two hours later, the police had been by to take a report and the building superintendent was on his way to let me into my apartment. Ms. Lou fed me cookies and tea until he arrived, chatting idly about her grandchildren who all lived in Minnesota.
The super arrived and I said goodnight to Ms. Lou, thanking her profusely for her help and the snack.
“Now, Ms. Westin, I’m afraid that I can’t get someone out to change the locks until tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t have anywhere else you can stay tonight?” the super, an older gentleman asked after letting me back into my unit.
I shook my head. “I don’t know anyone in the city. I’ve only been here a few months.”
He nodded. “Well, just be careful. If the mugger took your purse, they’ll have your keys.”
Fear struck my heart but I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to put on a brave face. “I’ll be all right.”
He nodded again, more reluctantly, but then shuffled out, closing the door firmly behind him.
Juniper raced to see me and as I gathered her into my arms, I started to cry all over again, still terrorized from the replay of the mugging racing through my mind.
“There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”
* * * *
“I can’t believe there’s only four days until Christmas! There’s still so much to do!”
I nodded absently at my mother’s fussing. She’d been racing around the house all afternoon in what could only be described as a Christmas tizzy. She went on endlessly about how many packages she had left to wrap, the decorations that had yet to be excavated from the storage boxes in the garage, and the number of people coming over for dinner.
“Ruby? Are you even listening to me?”
I snapped to attention, looking up from the listing of job posts I’d been sifting through online from my perch at the large marble topped island in the middle of my parents’ kitchen. “I’m listening. Did you want me to wrap anything for you while you go out to the grocery store?”
She eyed me, acting like she was debating my offer, when in reality we both knew there was no way she’d let me anywhere near her precious wrapping station. I loved my mother dearly, but she could be a bit of a nut case. Case in point, she had an entire wrapping station set up inside one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. A table folded down like a murphy bed to provide a workspace and then bins and bins of paper, bows, and ribbons were settled behind. Sorted by color. Obviously.
After a moment, she waved her hand and smiled. “That’s okay, honey. I’ll get to it. Santa’s little helper might just need to pull an all-nighter.”
“I’ll bring the wine.”
She laughed. “Perfect. What have you been working on over there? You’re supposed to be on vacation!”
I lowered the lid of my laptop. “Well, you know, money never sleeps. Or something like that. My boss just had a few things he wanted me to look over.”
I force myself not to blink too rapidly. I felt like a complete idiot, but I hadn’t found a way to tell my parents about the lay-off. I’d meant to. But after telling them about the mugging—which I’d been forced to do since I needed an emergency copy of my driver’s license made two days before my flight left and they’d had to overnight me my birth certificate—they were on edge and I didn’t know if they could take any more bad news.
So, instead, I’d bring it up after Christmas.
But definitely before the boxes of my belongings arrived on a freight truck.
The morning after the mugging, the building super had come back to find me propped against the inside of my door, frying pan limply hanging from one hand, as I nodded off, chin against my chest. After he’d left the night before, I worked myself into a full-blown panic that the mugger would have my keys and license and would come looking for more things to steal. Or…to do other things.
Unspeakable things. I’d hunkered down with a frying pan for defense and ended up crashing out there in the hallway when my body physically couldn’t stay awake another moment.
So when the super found me, I was at the end of a tether. Paranoid, sleep deprived, and stressed out beyond my capacity. He’d started a conversation as he went to work on changing the locks and my entire sob story bubbled out before I could rein the crazy back in. At one point in my ramblings about how terrible my life was, he offered me an escape route. Apparently, the building had a wait list stacked up, and he told me if I wanted—or needed—to leave before my lease was up, he’d be happy to pick from those candidates and sublet it out. He even said it was okay to leave behind my paltry furniture and he’d pay cash because he could fetch a higher price tag with a furnished apartment.
In a moment of insanity, I jumped at the deal, and by the time I was in a cab going to the airport less than a week later, my personal belongings were on a slow cross-country truck and should arrive sometime after Christmas. Right to my parents’ driveway.
Which meant I had less than a week to tell them I’d lost my job and given up my apartment and had less than a months’ worth of expenses saved in my bank account, nowhere to live, and no job prospects.
Yeah. That was going to be fun.
“Are you sure you’re all right, sweetheart?” my mother asked, drawing me from my thoughts.
It was the tenth time she’d asked since I’d arrived.
“I’m sure, Mom. Just lost in thought there for a minute. I’ll vacuum and get everything ready for Rick and fam. I’ll even do the little toilet paper triangles how you like them.”
“Already done,” she replied, grinning at me as she wandered from the kitchen. “But the vacuum sounds like a good idea. I haven’t gotten around to it yet today.”