She steps toward me, her voice cracking, but I hold up a hand.
“The thing is Iwasmanaging it. I had a schedule, a plan. The interest rates were disgusting. I would get nauseated and couldn’t eat the days I paid bills. But then Theo left me and he took his bigger income with him, his apartment, his actor friends who got us tickets to everything, his chef friends who hooked us up to eat for free. He took so much,” my voice is trembling now and I have to sniff before I go on, “But I’m me, so I sat down and worked the numbers. Again. Got a smaller apartment and more roommates and sold some things so I could keep up the payments on Gran’s room. And then Mr. Bonetti called.”
She lets out a breath, blowing hard and puffing out her cheeks. She’s having trouble processing this, I think, and I get it.
“Yeah. I sold everything I own to make up the two fifty. All but a few pairs of shoes and basic clothes. Moved to Gran’s place and my plan was to eat and use as little as possible and ask for favors around town to fix up her townhouse and sell it. Got a job in town because I couldn’t afford the city anymore, even remote. The food, the trains, the rent, utilities, even just keeping my freaking wifi.”
“That’swhy you went to Mellman’s.” She says, like it was one of the missing pieces of a puzzle in her mind.
“Ladies,” Ben’s voice surprises both of us. As does the look on his face.
42
JANIE
“Janelle.” He steps toward me, concern etched across his features. He puts his warm hands on my biceps and studies my face. His voice becomes low and soft, “You alright, my love?”
I sniff and say, “We’re fine.”
“While I don’t believe that for a second, perhaps you could move this conversation away from prying eyes, yeah?”
“Oh, shit, are there cameras in there?” I ask Skye, realizing we’re fighting right in front of the windows.
She shakes her head. “No press, and this crowd doesn’t even get their phones out. They get it. They still gossip like bored little old ladies though. We can go find a room?” she says, posing it as a question. I nod. It feels good to tell her the truth. The whole truth.
We go in a side door and find a small conference room. Ben lurks.
“I’m alright,” I tell him when he stands in the doorway.
“You’re crying,” he says simply. I search him for signs of an approaching panic attack. I don’t see any shaking hands or haggard breathing. Only one fist is clenched but over all, he seems intact.
I look him in the eyes. “I’m alright. This is good, talking with her. It’s good.”
He relaxes, “Okay, I’ll be just down the hall.” He kisses my forehead and leaves.
I turn to Skye to see what she thinks of the interaction but she’s slumped in a chair with her head in her hands. I pull out the black leather seat next to her. For a second we both just stare at the polished wood table.
“I am the absolute worst friend. How did I not see this? How did I not know?”
“Um, I didn’t want you to know.”
“Me, though? You kept it all from me?”
I sigh, “It’s really embarrassing. Debt is not something people talk about. It’s not like hey I’m in recovery from an addiction or working through something in therapy and everyone is likeyou go girl.It’s something you just live with, barely breathing and trying to not drown.”
“So, you’re fine now, right? With the marriage contract?”
I shake my head, “The publicity didn’t help. It made the texts worse.”
“Texts?”
“Oh, yeah.” I hold up my fingers and make air quotes. “Friendly remindersfrom them.”
“Threats you mean.”
“Well, they know I’m good for it now, they just keep saying if the rest of the money doesn’t clear on January first, they’ll have to revise our agreement.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
