Why, I didn't quite know. But my hunches had never steered me wrong.
And Tessa Sinclair?
I had a hunch she mattered.
I didn't know why. But I would be finding out.
19
Bubble Trouble
Tessa
"Damn it!" I watched in semi-drunk horror as Maisie's fancy bubble bath tipped off the tub's edge and splashed into the water. It bobbed once, then sank like a busted ship, spewing its lavender bloom in every direction.
I was still fully clothed, but I dove forward anyway, splashing halfway into the tub like a lifeguard who couldn't even swim. I slipped, cursed, and came up soaking wet, clutching the bottle like it might still be salvageable.
It wasn't.
The tub was practically frothing now, and I groaned out loud as I eyed the mess.It wasn't a bath. It was lavender soup.
A month ago, I might've laughed. But now?
I didn't even smile.
It had been a full hour since my mom had dropped that lovely bombshell about the eviction notice.
Drunk on Moscato, I'd spent most of that hour dealing with jazzy hold music, robotic apologies, and the slow-motion nightmare of trying to convince the credit card rep that I hadn't reported my own card stolen.
But apparently,someonehad.
And without my original cellphone for two-factor authentication, I got to enjoy the full paranoid thrill ride – security questions, manager transfers, even a "brief" identity check that included my first car and favorite food.
Supposedly, the company would be sending me a new card with a brand new number. That was the good news.And thebad news?They would be sending it to my Chicago apartment instead of here, where I actually was.
The reasons for this were two-fold.
Reason one – nothing screams fraud like asking a financial institution to send a replacement card to an entirely new address, not even in the same state.
Reason two – and this was the biggie – the last thing I needed now was a digital trail leading to Maisie's place.
So now, if I wanted to use the card at all, I would have to sneak down to Chicago and nab it without being seen.
Or, maybe I could…what?
Come up with a better plan?
Maybe one that involved my mom?
No. Forget that.The thought of letting Mom anywhere near my credit card – and in Chicago, no less – was enough to make me swear off cards entirely.
But how on Earth was I going to pay my rent?
Still soaked, I leaned over the tub and stared at the lavender foam like it owed me answers.
It didn't.I knew this.
I was so screwed.
