“I can’t wear this stuff! What if I get mugged? Beth!” I turn green and start to shuck the jewelry like it's made of acid.
She places her hand over the watch and shakes her head. “It’s part of the game, Kerry. If you want to do this, you need all the pieces in place. This stuff is your shield. It deflects questions about your socioeconomic rank and status. It says you’re one of us.”
“So, I knew you guys were loaded, but I didn’t realize you were like a millionaire in the making. Why do you hang out with me?” My face scrunches up, and I wonder why she decided to befriend me. I don’t want to be a charity case, but she never made me feel like that—even though I am one.
“Holy shit! Don’t even. I’m not doing this with you right now!”
“But—”
“But nothing. I’m Beth. You’re Kerry. We’re both in college, we both have problems, and we've got each other’s backs. Isn’t that enough?” Worry pinches the corners of her eyes, and I realize she’s had enough fake friends to last a lifetime. Beth doesn’t dress like she’s made of money, but apparently she is. I’m only wearing a few things from her jewelry box, and I suspect they're worth more than most families make in a year.
“You’re right. It’s more than enough.”
“Right. Now the last thing that needs addressing is that stupid Fitbit. You can’t wear it.” She points at the black band on my wrist. “Where’d you get it? Did you have that the other day?”
I try not to blush and glance at my wrist. “Carter gave it to me. I can’t take it off. He’s all excited about it and he’ll think I don’t like him again. I’m not going through that.” I unfasten the thing and bend down and strap it around my ankle. When I stand, I beam at Beth. “Problem solved.”
She snorts. “Yeah, now you look like an inmate instead of a health nut. Good call.”
“I’m not taking it off.”
“Take it off!” She hollers back as I grab my purse and rush to the door.
I leave it on and kill the Fitbit convo. “I’ll be back later. Wish me luck.”
Beth rolls her eyes and smiles hard. “Are you going to drive over there?”
“Yeah, why?”
She dangles her keys in front of me. “Not in the bus. That just screams that you're totally fucking crazy. There’s no other explanation for it.” We both start laughing, and she shoves her keys into my hand.
Beth slaps me on the back and walks me to the door. “You got this.”
“I got this.”
“You’re a badass.”
“I’m a badass.” The borrowed confidence straightens my backbone, and I’m ready to play hardball. I’m walking in, aiming straight for his nuts, and not leaving until I get what I want.
CHAPTER 6
My heart is in my throat as I plow through the heavy wooden doors to Glousher & Dherm, the law office that served the eviction notice to Nate. Head held high and with a determined stride, I march over to the receptionist. She’s an older woman with silver hair and enough wrinkles on her face to suggest years of laughter. She has a big pair of granny glasses hanging on a silver string around her neck. Her back is to me at first, but her chair swivels toward me with my final step. Plastic smile in place, she glances up, “How can I help you today?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Glousher.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
I expected this, so I looked up everything I could before I came. I know the guy’s name, office number, work schedule, and I’m certain he’s here today even though it’s Saturday. Anyone who works for Ferro doesn’t sleep. There are no weekends in Billionaireville, which is fine by me.
“He’s expecting me.” My voice sounds like steel even though my insides are crawling with anxiety. I don’t wait for her to tell me to walk past. I just go. “I’m his three-thirty appointment—personal calendar, no name.”
The woman flushes and watches me as I walk past, hoping to God I went in the right direction. Heel toe, heel toe, don’t fall over in these stupid shoes. Five bucks at Wet Seal never went so far. I got a shiny pair of black stilettos and the stockings were free. Only catch—there’s a fake seam down the back of my leg. In other words, they’re slut stockings. But free is free, so I made do.
“Miss, wait!” she jumps up from her desk and rushes after me.
I walk faster. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. I wish these floors were carpet and not polished wood. I’m going to fall on my ass. I pick up my pace. Just as I reach a door with the lawyer’s name on it and reach for the knob, the old lady is on my heels.
Her bony hands clamp around my elbow. “Miss, if you please.” She’s a little breathless. “He’ll see you in the meeting room today.” She watches me closely and I know something’s off. She doesn’t want me to go into his office. It’s also become very clear that no one else is here. I’ve not seen a runner, secretary, or another soul, besides Mrs. Doubtfire here since I stepped off the elevator.