This is Xavier. Realized I never gave you my number. In case you have questions about the arrangement.
I stared at the message for a long moment. Then I typed back:
Mr. Dubois. How did you get my number?
I'm your boss. I have your file.
That was creepy. That was definitely creepy. I should be weirded out by this, should tell him to never contact me on my personal phone again.
Instead, I typed:
You gave me the night to think about it, Mr. Dubois.
His response was immediate:
Technically, it's the next day.
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I rolled my eyes at my phone, at myself, at this entire ridiculous situation.
Goodnight, Mr. Dubois.
Goodnight, future pretend-girlfriend.
I didn't respond to that. But I didn't delete the conversation either.
I sat there for another hour, staring at those last words until my eyes burned.
Then I went to bed, blissfully oblivious to the fact that the next day would bring total chaos.
It seemed like the universe had decided to toy with me from today, because my car refused to start.
I turned the key once. Nothing. Twice. A clicking sound, weak and pathetic, like the engine was trying and failing to remember what it was supposed to do. Three times. Silence.
"No," I said out loud, gripping the steering wheel, staring at the dashboard like I could will the car back to life. "No, no, no. Not today. Please not today."
The car didn't care about my pleas. It sat there, dead and useless, while the minutes ticked past and my carefully constructed schedule collapsed around me.
Zoe was in the backseat. "Mommy? Why isn't the car working?"
"It's just tired, baby. Give me a minute."
I pulled out my phone. Called the office. Margaret answered on the second ring.
"Dubois Industries, how may I direct your call?"
"Margaret, it's Kim. Kim Young." I closed my eyes, shame burning in my chest. "I'm going to be late this morning. I'm having car trouble."
The pause on the other end was barely perceptible, but I heard it. "I'll let Mr. Dubois know. Is everything alright?"
"Fine. Everything's fine. I'll be there as soon as I can."
I hung up before she could ask any more questions.
I got out of the car and stood on the cracked pavement, staring at the useless vehicle that had eaten half my savings over the past year. No money for a tow. No time to figure out what was wrong. No backup plan.
The bus. That was all I had.
I pulled Zoe out of the backseat, gathered her backpack, my bag, and the lunch I'd packed, and started walking toward the bus stop three blocks away.
