Cruel Money (Cruel 1)

“You’ll get no recommendation from me. In fact, I’m going to contact the agency and request that you be removed. I’m sure other people would like to know what kind of person they’re hiring.”

Tears welled in my eyes at her words. Harsh, horrible words. Not just cutting me out of this job. Cutting me out of…all jobs,

“You don’t have to do this,” Penn said. “She only has a few more days left.”

“Haven’t you done enough?” his mother said with cold, furious eyes.

I didn’t wait to hear his response. There was nothing I could do here. No point in arguing because it was clear that the mayor had made up her mind. She hadn’t become such a successful lawyer, judge, and politician by wavering in her decisions. This was over. I was fired. And I had to pack up and leave now.

I turned on my heel and all but ran to the master bedroom.

Raised voices filtered toward me, but I couldn’t exactly hear what was being said. I assumed it wasn’t pretty. That it was a fight they’d had a lot, and this was just icing on the cake.

Speaking of icing…

I was going to need to pick some up.

Icing fixed everything. A whole tub full.

I swallowed back the tears at that thought and grabbed both of my suitcases out of the closet. I opened them on top of the bed and began to furiously pack my measly belongings into them.

I didn’t even waste my time trying to fold it all to my usual standards. I just haphazardly tossed things inside and hoped it would close.

Fired.

I was fired.

My hands trembled as I dug my shoes out and threw them into the bag. Then I couldn’t stop it. Tears. Fuck, I didn’t want to be this weak. To cry over a lost job. But, god, it was a job I was good at. And it gave me the room to write when I wanted and see exotic places. It got me out of Charleston and away from my family. It was the perfect job while I waited and waited and waited to catch my break in writing.

Now, it was gone.

And I felt something snap inside me.

Suddenly, I was on my knees in front of the bed, the suitcases splayed out before me. Tears rolled down my cheeks in rivers. Sobs racked my body as I let it all out. My hands clutched the duvet cover.

I wanted to scream and scream and scream some more. But I couldn’t do that with the mayor still down the hall. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

The world wasn’t ending. I knew that. I rationally knew that I could figure out what to do from here. But it felt so grim. I’d just fallen off a cliff at the edge of the world, and I was spiraling down. The terror wasn’t in the landing; it was in the free fall. In not knowing where I was going to land.

And right now, I was tumbling over and over again with no end in sight.

Suddenly, I felt arms around my middle, and a soft voice in my ear said, “Shh.”

He turned me into his arms and held me pressed against him as the tears continued. He kissed my hair and rubbed my back as he rocked me back and forth.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured placatingly.

“You don’t…know that,” I said through my hiccups.

“I do. I know that you will be. That everything will be okay.”

“I just…lost my job. I lost…everything.”

He kissed my hair again. “I know. I’m so sorry, Nat.”

“I don’t even…have a place to stay.”

“You can stay with me,” he said easily.

“Won’t your mom be…mad?” I asked, trying to gulp in oxygen as I felt hyperventilating coming on.

“I don’t give a damn what she thinks.” He pulled back enough to look into my red, puffy face. He wiped away the streaks of tears and planted a kiss on my lips. “I want you to come back with me. We can figure this out together.”

Part V

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

Natalie

34

I had two suitcases to my name.

A name that now meant nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

It had meant a lot of things over the years—military brat, prized swimmer, star university student, elite vacation home watcher—and now, it held no value. Because just as with all of those other cloaks I’d put on, I had to take this one off too. Had it viciously ripped off. Leaving me naked and struggling to remember who I even was anymore.

The one cloak I wanted to wear—writer and acclaimed author—was still such a distant, impossible thought that it was nothing but a shadow. Not a real thing at all. Just a dream for a silly girl to cling on to when everything fell apart. And even now, it felt far-fetched as I stood bare, hoping to steal another cloak.