“That I just spent that much money? Why would I have done that?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know, but that hot-air balloon ride and the Prada dress purchases amount to felony check fraud.”
I have no words for this. I just start shaking my head. “I’m sure I didn’t mean to do that. I must’ve expected some money to come in and was hospitalized before I could take care of it.”
Denise sits back and crosses her arms over her chest. “If no one stole that money from you, then you stole the money from the bank. Even if Wells Fargo doesn’t prosecute, we will.”
I lean back in my chair. I’m breathing too fast.
This can’t be happening to me.
All I wanted to do was retrace my steps to find my old life. To figure out who all the faces and places were on my Instagram account so I could figure out whoIwas. I never expected all this sleuthing to lead me here, to a copy of my criminal record and the threat of prosecution
“There’s no intent requirement for check fraud, Mia. You might want to get a lawyer.”
I look at her in complete bafflement. She, of all people, knows I can’t afford a lawyer.
I nod wordlessly, turn around, and walk out of the station.
Unsure of what to do, where to go, or who to talk to, I goto Starbucks and buy a latte I can’t afford. Actually, if we’re being honest about it, I buy a latte with money I borrowed from Max because I ran out of the money I stole from JP. Is this what I’ve always done? Is this how I operate?
I carry my kind-of-stolen latte to a table on the patio and try to calm down. The stresses are piling up.
Felony check fraud. An impending marriage proposal.
Worst of all, I can’t even share it with the only person I trust—not without risking our not-really-a-relationship relationship.
46At least I’m getting a lot of use out of the dress.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Now that I’ve had my daily visit to the police station, I hustle back to JP’s to get ready and pick up Crystal. I’m definitely late at this point, which means I’ll have to be in and out of there quickly—the one blessing of the day. Hopefully Max is still there because I have no idea where he lives—and I can’t pull off this date night alone.
I walk through the front door and see JP sitting at the kitchen island with Max, beers in hand.
This is literally my nightmare.
“Heeyyy guys,” I say, tiptoeing forward. “JP, I thought you’d be asleep by now?”
He smiles broadly—and a little drunkenly. How many beers has he had? More important, how many has Max had? Enough to tell him all of my dirty secrets? I shoot Max a death glare, just in case he deserves it.
“Max was just telling me about his research. Fascinating stuff. He’s quite an impressive person.”
Max holds up his bottle as if to toast me.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure he is.” I eye Max, still waiting to find out how much he’s said about me.
“How much time did you two spend together?” JP asks, noticing the glimmer of tension between us.
“Ummm…” I say.
“We just had a few kitchen conversations,” Max says.
So he hasn’t been talking trash to my boyfriend after all. I retract the death glare.
“Well, it’s so good to see you again, Max,” I say. “JP, you really should get some rest. I’m just going to freshen up. I have a date to arrange tonight and have to be on my way.”
