“Fine, but no tequila. I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I know they’re not releasing your mom yet.”
“I don’t have a choice. I have no sick days left and no more vacation. Unless I want to get fired and be really screwed, I have to go back. It’ll be fine, right? Everything always works out for the best.”
Phoebe wished she believed that. She told Charlotte she’d see her later, took one last look in on her mom, and headed home to her place. At least with her mom in the hospital, she could get a good night’s sleep in her own bed. She’d passed out on the floor last night and woke early, unable to do anything but think about how her date had gone from mediocre to downright nightmarish. Until she met the pirate. Ben. Ben the pirate. Not a very good fit, but it worked. Not like she’d ever see him again anyway.
Phoebe made a fresh pot of coffee then went to her desk to pull out some files she needed to finish up before returning to work the next day. Her job was pretty simple compared to what the techs did. But she wasn’t that great with computers. They tended to freeze on her and never work again. No, she was at home amongst her files in the archives room, doing the odd jobs here and there for others around the office. As one of the ladies called her, a highly-trained secretary. She was proud of where she was, getting things to run smoothly for everyone else, moving behind the scenes. She had become content with her lot in life. Since her mother became ill, any hope of pursuing her real dreams had been put on hold indefinitely.
Above her desk hung a beautiful picture taken of her working with some foster kids. Phoebe had spent so much time with them, counseling them, learning their stories. Though she wasn’t adopted herself, she’d had friends that were. Knew what they’d gone through. Helping people was something she’d wanted to do, but unlike Charlotte, she didn’t have the brains to be a nurse. But she knew how to get inside a kid’s head and help them understand that their situation was not the end of the world. Her plan had been to start a fundraiser and create a program that would target the youth of the city, but every time she brought it to Yancey and his goons, they laughed in her face.
If she wanted to fund something like that, she had to do it on her own.
Typical. They were sitting on a gold mine and refused to share with those who could use it.
Phoebe tried not to look at the picture too much. She’d been avoiding calls from the local teen shelters asking where she was. The kids missed her. But she didn’t have time for them right now. That, and she couldn’t handle the disappointment on their faces when she told them all her dreams had fallen through.
A couple hours later, she had files spread all across her living room floor, organizing and labeling, when a knock sounded at her door. “She’s right on time,” she muttered as she got to her feet and headed to the door. “Charlotte, I really think we need to—how the hell did you get up here?”
Mitch leaned against her doorframe, hands playing with his designer sunglasses. “I know some people, Phoebe.”
“Phoebe…who’s Phoebe?” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
“Don’t lie to me. I know your real name, and I know who you work for.”
“Look, I don’t want trouble. Just get out of here or I’m calling the cops.”
“What, your boyfriend can’t stop by to say hello?”
“You’re not my boyfriend. Get out of here!” She tried to close the door, but he shoved his foot in and grabbed the edge. “Mitch, seriously. Go away!”
“No, not until you apologize for last night.”
Phoebe glanced behind her and realized her phone was on the other side of the room. “I’m not sorry. You were trying to offer me money for sex! Who does that? On a first date!”
“Listen, I’ll admit I might have gone a little overboard last night, but really, you need me.” He pulled out some rolled up papers from his back pocket and shoved them in her face.
“What are these?”
He stopped trying to get into her apartment and took a few steps back, holding up his empty hands. “I’m sorry for last night, really, okay? I just…it’s been a long time since I’ve dated, and you’re really very beautiful. I think…I think we can really help each other out.”
Phoebe was trying to think of something to say when she finally looked down at the papers. “My credit report? How…how did you get this?”