Now his eyebrows dropped and drew together as he analyzed my words.
I groaned and slid down in the booth. “Trust me, I know this sounds like the most ridiculous far-fetched situation imaginable, but unfortunately it’s my life right now.” I drew in abreath and soldiered on. “I won the lottery, and now I’m being blackmailed.”
“Blackmailed,” he repeated looking from me back to the message.
“Yes.”
“It sounds more like extortion to me.”
A scoff escaped my lips as I lifted my wrist to circle it in the air. “I don’t really see the need to get hung up on semantics. Either way, I’m screwed!”
Reid’s expression softened. “So the lottery, huh?” he asked, disbelief dancing in his tone.
“Yes, I won it.”
He looked at me like my head wasn’t screwed on straight.
“Not, like, billions or millions or anything like that. I mean, I wish, right? But still a lot of money. Well, a lot for me. Tens of thousands. More than I could ever dream of winning.”
“Okayyy,” he said slowly, looking from me to the text thread and back to me, trying to process it all.
“So someone stole my cat, and now I have to pay up or I’ll never see him again.”
Reid opened his mouth to say something, closed it, squinted his eyes, and then took a small sip of coffee. I could practically see the calculations happening behind his glasses.
“I think I’m following,” he finally said. “But how did someone know to extort you?”
“Well, I posted about it?—”
“You posted that you won?”
“Yes, just a quick story.”
“On social media?” Judgement flickered in his stare.
I sighed. “Yep.”
“What did the post say, exactly?”
I winced, and pulled out my phone, scrolling for a minute before finding the post and showing him. He brought the phone to his face, pulling down his glasses and assessing it.
He let out a small laugh of disbelief. “You put the exact amount you won and everything.”
“I know,” I said.
“This is simply way too much information.”
“I know.”
“Keeping it to yourself is, like, the first rule of winning the lottery.”
I sighed and repeated, “I know.”
“You’re just asking for something like this to happen.”
“Can we stop victim blaming for a second?” I snapped.
“Sorry, this is just nuts,” he said, readjusting his glasses and handing my phone back.
