by Leah Holt
"Why? What happened to you?"
Facing away from her, I struggled with the cork as I spoke. "Let's just say people want something I can't give."
"You aren't kidding," she said. I could hear the sound of paper crinkling, and looked over my shoulder to see her holding the collection notice. "What are you going to do?"
"Fuck if I know." Handing her a full glass, I took a big gulp of mine and arched my brows. "What the hell can I do? You can't draw blood from a stone."
"El, what the hell is happening to us?" Swirling her glass, Kayla walked into my living room and dropped into my chair. "It's like we hit twenty-four and our lives suddenly went to shit."
"At least your issue is just a douchebag you can walk away from. I don't think I can hide from the creditors." Sitting on the loveseat under the window, I gave her a big smile. "I hear they have more eyes than the CIA, they can hunt you down anywhere. I'm fucked."
We both started laughing again, and Kayla shook her head, setting her glass on the coffee table. "I can't drop Justin that easily, although I wish I could. But, I love him."
"Do you really love him? Or is it just easier than being alone?" Veering my stare, I gave her my best, 'I know you better than you think,' glare.
"Come on, El, don't give me that look. We have history, of course I love him."
"History?" Cocking a brow, I purse my lips. "Kayla, you two have been together for less than a year. I'd hardly call that history."
Kayla rolled her eyes, sitting deeper into the chair. "It's not something you'd understand, you've never been in love before. It's a feeling, it sits deep inside your chest, and you can't ignore it. When things are good between us, he makes me smile, he makes me laugh, it's like we've known each other our entire lives. That's why I can't walk away."
"Blah," I said, sticking out my tongue. "Did we just step into a cheesy Lifetime movie?"
"I know you don't like him, you've never liked him, but he has good qualities."
"If by good qualities you're referring to his washboard abs and perfectly cut jaw, then sure, he has a couple. But as far as boyfriend material or being good for you—no, Justin sucks ass."
"El—"
Cutting her off, I leaned forward and held my hand up to stop her from talking. "Kay, I get it, you think what you two have is love. But, the way he talks to you sometimes, it pisses me off. You deserve better, we both know that. And if you can't see it, it's my job as your best friend to tell you. Regardless, I'm here for you, even if your choice in men is not the best."
Kayla smirked, picking up her glass and downing the last bit of wine. "I know, but for right now, maybe you can be there for my empty glass instead?" Wiggling her glass, she eyed the bottle of wine.
"That I have no problem doing." Taking her glass, I went back to my small kitchen and filled us both back up.
"Hey, so you need money, right?" she asked, glancing at me over her shoulder.
"Don't we all," I mumbled as I walked back holding our freshly filled cups. "But I won't take any of your money if that's what you're getting at."
"What about taking someone else's?"
"What are you talking about?" Placing her glass down on the table, I plopped back into my seat and laid my legs over the arm.
Kayla was holding the newspaper, peeking her eyes over the top to look at me. "I think I might have just found the answer to your problem." I could hear a playful tone in her voice, and I could picture the smile on her face without having to see it.
"Oh boy, this can't be good. What did you find?" I asked warily, sitting up straight.
Standing up, Kayla passed me the paper. "Third page, in the classifieds section."
Finding the section she said, I scanned the small boxes. "Okay, so what the hell am I looking for?" My eyes search the bold print, seeing ads for cooks and mechanics, people who were searching for lost pets and trying to sell their used junk. "I don't see anything that's going to help me here. I don't need a nineteen-eighty three Volkswagen Rabbit."
"Middle of the page, it's right there." Sitting down beside me, she ran a finger over the print, stopping on a small box. "Here it is." Tapping the paper, she nodded as if all my answers were inside that little block.
The print was bold, the description vague, but the offer was clear as day.
Man Seeking Woman:
I'm a successful business man and I'm looking for a grounded woman to help secure a future for my child. No strings attached, please call if interested. Willing to pay good money if compatible.
"What is it for exactly?"
"How the hell should I know?" she asked, her lip curving to one side.
"I bet it's some creep and this is an ad for like a call girl or something."
"You should call, it doesn't hurt anything to find out."
"And it doesn't hurt to allow yourself some real happiness."
"Hint taken." Nudging my shoulder, she gave me a smile.
"You really think I should call?"
Snatching the paper out of my hands, she scoffed. "Fuck no, are you kidding me? I was just joking, he's probably a serial killer who got lazy." Laying the paper on my coffee table, she scrunched her face in disapproval.
"Well, you might be living with one. So. . ." Giving her a playful shove, she started giggling. Before I knew it, we were both laughing hysterically, good tears running down our faces.
It made me happy to see her smiling that way. For months I had to sit back and watch her slowly drown in the relationship she was in. Most of the time I bit my tongue, doing my best to not start any trouble. For whatever reason, she saw something in him, and I tried to respect that.
But if Justin got too pushy or jerky, that's when I let my inner bitch come out. Kayla might be a silent mouse, afraid to lose that guy, but I wasn't shy about telling him where to stick it.
Which was definitely why he hated me so much, and didn't want her hanging out with me. I was hopeful this was a turning point for her, the moment where clarity would strike her like a lightening bolt and she could see him for who he trully was; a self absorbed asshole.
"Why don't we just forget our problems right now, we still have half a bottle to finish." Kayla snatched her wine off the table and held it up. "Let's toast. To fresh starts and good fortune."
Clinking my glass against hers, I took a long sip. "Good fortune, huh? Maybe I should call that number. . ."
"El, don't even think about it. That right there is a man looking for a quick fuck without having to leave the comfort of his home. What other reason is there for an ad like that?"
"I don't know, maybe he's looking for a nanny or something. He might need someone to tidy up his home and make sure his kids get to school on time."
"Or," she said, pointing a finger in my direction. "He's looking for some unexpecting victim to chain up in his basement."
"Even that doesn't sound too bad right now, I bet the creditors wouldn't find me there." Giggling, my eyes kept running over the text on the paper, rereading the vague and undescriptive ad.
I couldn't say I wasn't a little curious about it. I needed money, something steady to get me through this downward spiral my life was taking.
Something like this could help.
No, it's dangerous. Kayla's right, he's probably just looking for sex.
"Please tell me you're not serious."
"What? Come on, you know me better than that."
Kayla's eyes were set on mine as her brows arched high. "You're right, I do. And the tone in your voice right now tells me that you're really debating this. I regret even showing you that ad now. I was only kidding, you do realize that, right?"
"Stop, Kay, you don't need to worry." Resting my feet on the coffee table, I held the glass between my bent knees, tapping my nails against the surface. "I'm not that desperate."
Am I?
Chapter Two
Ella
Brring. Brring. Brring.
Groaning, I rolled onto my side and opened my eyes. My head was
pounding and foggy, and I had no idea what the hell that ringing noise was.
Blinking, I tried to look around the room, but I couldn't focus on a damn thing. Everything was fuzzy and my stomach felt a little queasy. Balling my fists, I rubbed my eyes, doing my best to get my sight back.
Blinking wide, I rested my hand on my stomach and started to massage the sour heaviness that rested in my gut.
What the hell is that sound? What day is it?
Staring blankly at the coffee table, it suddenly hit me.
Shooting up straight, I spotted Kayla sleeping in a small ball in the chair and realized that I had fallen to sleep on my loveseat. The ringing was growing louder and louder as my ears adjusted and I remembered that I was supposed to be substituting that morning.
Grabbing my phone, I checked the time and saw that I had fifeteen minutes until class started.
Shit!
Launching off the couch, I ran into my room and scrambled to find a outfit. I hadn't prepared anything the night before. Kayla and I had drowned ourselves and our worries in alcohol, to the point I wasn't even sure what time we fell asleep.
"El, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice groggy and scratchy.
"I'm supposed to teach this morning downtown. Fuck, I'm going to be late." Slipping a flower print, t-cup dress over my head, I slid my feet into a pair of low heels, and threw my hair up into a messy bun.
"Can I do anything to help? Want me to call the school and tell them you might be tardy?" Chuckling, I heard her shift in the chair. "I'll pretend I'm your mother, they'll understand."
"Not funny, Kay, I can't be late, fuck, I can't be late." Without looking in the mirror, I put on a pair of dangly gold earrings blindly. "Stay as long you want, just lock up when you leave." Grabbing my keys and my purse, I ran my hands down the front of my dress, and adjusted the sleeves. "Do I look alright? Professional enough?"
"You look fine, just go." Waving her hand, she shooed me out the door. "I'll text you later."
Taking a bus downtown, it dropped me off less than a block from the school. I had never moved so fast in heels in my life. And still it felt like it took way longer than it should to get there.
Reaching the double doors, I hit the buzzer for the secretary at the front desk and waited for her to let me in. Looking up at the camera above the door, I gave a friendly smile.
"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice breaking up as it came out of the speaker.
"Yes, I'm Ella Day, filling in for Mrs. Chase today."
I heard the door lock click, so I pulled it open and stepped inside. A woman in a deep blue pants suit was waiting by the main office door, her arms folded across her chest. I could tell instantly that she was the principle, and could see she was highly annoyed with me. Her face was stiff, lips tight and drawn down. One of her eyes had this tick that was hard to ignore. The corner was vibrating, forcing her high cheek bones to twitch.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I gave her a weak smile. "Hi," I said, reaching my hand out towards her. "I'm Ella Day—"
Lifting her hand up, she let out a soft breath. "I know who you are and you're late."
It took a moment for me to register what she had said, my hand lingering awkwardly in the air. Lowering my hand, I gripped the thin strap on my purse. "I know, and I apologize for that. I'm really—"
Cutting me off, her voice was harsh. "Our classes start at eight-twenty, it's nine."
"I'm really sorry—"
Holding up her hand again, I stopped talking. The woman didn't give two shits about why I was late, and rightfully so, she had an entire school to keep track of. It was irresponsible and stupid of me to get drunk the night before.
What the hell was I thinking!
"We went ahead and got a different teacher to fill in for Mrs. Chase today."
"But—"
"Maybe if you took teaching more seriously, you would have been here when you were supposed to be. I don't have the time, or the patience, to chase down someone who obviously doesn't want to be here. You can see yourself out, Ms. Day." Turning, the woman walked into the office, her heels heavy on the tiles, leaving me alone in the hall.
Grabbing the back of my neck, I stood still for a moment, so pissed at myself for royally screwing up this opportunity.
Fuck! Why the hell did I do that last night?
Leaving the school, it felt like I had cement on my feet as I walked back to the bus stop. Dropping onto the bench for the bus, I hung my head in disappointment. I needed that job, I needed the money and the reference for future work.
And now, I had none of that. I had probably red flagged my name to all the other schools in the area, fucking up the carreer I was trying to build. Digging my elbows into my knees, I cradled my head, ready to cry.
"Is this seat taken?" a man's voice asked.
Sitting up quickly, I wiped the few tears that had escaped away from my eyes as I pushed over a little to make room. "No, you can sit." Stuffing my hands under my thighs, I looked up the street.
"Thanks." Taking the open space beside me, the man sat a briefcase at his feet. "Gorgeous day today, we're lucky that storm fizzled out."
"Yeah," I said, not looking at him.
I could feel him studying me, his eyes surveying my face as I wiped them dry. "Rough day?" he asked.
Twisting my head over my shoulder, I stared at the man, unsure how truthful I really wanted to be.
He was dressed in a cheap business suit, with a deep red button-up underneath. His hair was slicked back, jaw sharp with a pointy chin. The man looked older, maybe in his fifties if I had to guess.
As our eyes connected, a feeling came over me. I felt awkward and uncomfortable. There was something in his eyes that made me uneasy. It wasn't something I could explain, he hadn't done anything wrong, only making small talk. But the way he looked at me just gave me the chills, and not in good way.
Taking in a deep breath, I force myself to break eye contact and look up at the sky. "You could say that."
"Well, a little advice—don't worry, bad days never last. Eventually, shit gets better."
"Thanks for that, I'm idly waiting for the day shit gets better." Crossing my leg, I could feel his gaze as it traced the visible skin of my calf and moved up to my thigh. Pulling my skirt down, I did my best to cover up.
"Praying mantis."
"Excuse me?" I asked, unsure what the hell he was talking about.
Pointing at the tattoo on the top of my foot, he repeated himself. "Praying mantis."
"Oh, yeah." Running nervous fingers across my head, I pulled a few loose pieces of hair behind my ear. "It's supposed to bring me luck, but I'm still waiting for that."
The man bit his bottom lip and placed his hand on the bench between us. "It's sexy." His voice went low as I felt him lean in closer. "You uh, you work in this area?"
"Occasionally," I said, looking further up the street, trying to find the bus in the sea of cars. I was ready to be off that bench, on the bus home, and away from that man.
I was trying to stay calm, neutral, and not give him a reason to get angry or upset. Instant bitch wasn't always a good thing, especially if the person you were dealing with was a complete stranger.
That man's temper could live on a short fuse, and I certainly didn't want to light it.
"Are you looking for work today?"
Pursing my lips, I shot him a look. "What are you asking me exactly?"
"Oh come on, don't play with me. I'm not a cop, you don't need to pretend." Lifting a finger to my thigh, he started to rub my skin gently. "I know what you are, and I'm a man who's in need."
Oh no fucking way! Screw being polite.
Jumping up from the bench, I took long steps away from him. "I don't know what made you think this, but I am not a prostitute." Holding up both my hands, my lip curled angrily. "Why don't you go find a dark corner and fuck yourself." Stepping off the sidewalk, I practically threw myself in front of the taxi coming by, waving my han
ds frantically for him to stop.
Quickly, I climbed into the back of the cab and locked the door. My skin crawled as the man watched me, his eyes empty and angry that he was shot down.
"Just drive," I snapped, keeping an eye on the man. I didn't want him to try and get in with me, and I didn't want to give him the chance to grab a taxi and follow me home.
As the taxi pulled back into traffic, the man stood up and gave me the middle finger. Rolling down the window, I threw my hand out and gave him the bird back.
Maybe it was the day I was having, or maybe it was just the fact I felt a little spiteful, but that single motion made me feel better. Today was just not my day at all.
How much more shit could possibly go wrong?
Walking into my apartement, I set my keys and purse down on the counter. There was a piece of paper with my name on it folded and tucked into the fruit bowl. Picking it up, Kayla had left me a short note, thanking me for taking the time to listen to her and telling me that if I needed anything at all, not to hesitate to ask.
I knew she was offering me money, but I'd never ask her for that. And she knew it, which was why she offered it this way and not the night before after I slapped down even the idea of it.
Kayla had a privledged life, her family had money, and lots of it. You'd never know that if you met her, which was one of the reasons I liked her.
She didn't judge you, she never threw her wealth in your face or took it for granted. Kayla was a good person. And because she was such a good person, people would try and take advantage of her. That's why it killed me inside she put up with Justin for as long as she had.
Setting down her note, I kicked off my heels and trudged into my living room, collapsing onto my small couch.
The newpaper was folded up on the coffee table, grabbing my attention. Reaching out, I pulled it into my lap, and glanced over the front page. My mind kept going back to that ad and wondering what the job was actually for.