Men like him were trained to clock status the way rats smelled cheese. Plus, Evan had been way too friendly the last time we'd met, like he'd wanted a best buddy, or more likely, an investor for his latest scheme.
His gaze snagged mine for half a beat before he turned and muttered something to his gang. One of them peeled off for the bar. The other leaned into the blonde like he was sharing a joke, which couldn't have been too funny, because her laugh was fake as hell.
As for Evan, he stood and headed my way, just as I'd planned.So fucking predictable.Guys like that always took the bait.
Dumbass.
Now Aristotle?Hewould've known better.
17
Not My Proudest Moment
Tessa
I nearly dropped the phone.An eviction notice?
That'swhat Mom found on my door?
As my stomach churned, I had no idea what to say.This was bad.
Reallybad.
My head was still spinning when she twisted the knife. "For non-payment, in case you care."
What, like I wouldn't?
Desperately, I tried to think.
When my lease ended in February, I hadn't renewed. I'd paid extra to go week-to-week, telling myself it was temporary – just until my promotion panned out and I could become a buyer instead of a renter.
And we all know howthatturned out.
But this still didn't explain the non-payment. The rent was paid automatically by my only credit card, which I hadn't touched in weeks – not because I didn't want to, but because I'd buried it deep in my suitcase to avoid leaving a digital trail.
But now I couldn't help but wonder…had Evan messed with it?
I was still trying to figure it out when my mom said, "Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?"
By now, my nerves were hanging by a thread, and Mom, as usual, wasn't helping. I gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, so this is about you?"
"Don't turn this around," she said. "It's notmyfault."
Yeah, well, it's not mine either.But I didn't say it, because that would only lead to more questions. Instead, I began stalking toward the fridge, praying I'd find something inside to help soothe my nerves.
And just for the record, Ididn'tmean Ryder Vaughn.
On the phone, Mom added, "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I'm just telling you what I saw."
"I know," I snapped. But then, I deliberately softened my tone. "Sorry…I'm glad you told me."
"I shouldn'thaveto tell you. If you were in Chicago instead of Florida, you could've seen it for yourself."
Ah. Florida.
Miami, to be exact.
That's where Mom thought I was, because I hadn't told her what happened at work – or that I never made it to Miami.
