Breaking Stone: Bad Boy Romance Novel (23 page)

I came to the coffee shop where I usually bought my mid-morning latte, but marched right on by. I’d need a new coffee shop now. Well, soon. Once I got a new job. Half an hour ago my budget had moved from controlled to strict, turning into the sort of budget that didn’t involve fancy coffees with foreign names and lots of ingredients.

I carried on walking until I came to the small park where I liked to come to eat lunch on a warm day. I noticed my favorite bench was free, just as my anxiety reached peak levels. I hurried over and sat, trying to breathe, trying to beat down the flood of panic. I was okay. I had to believe that. I had enough money to make rent due in ten days. So long as I didn’t eat.

Kylie ran a catering business. Perhaps she could bring home a trash bag from one of her functions and I could pick through it for viable food.

I would still need money. Maybe I could sell something. I made an inventory of the stuff I owned as I watched a mother push her infant on a swing. The mother looked at me a couple of times, and I don’t know what it was about my demeanor, but after a couple of minutes, she gathered up her child, strapped her into the stroller and walked quickly out of the park through the gate opposite to the one where I sat.

I was sure I hadn’t looked like a kidnapper in the elevator mirror. That transition must have taken place on the street. I rummaged in my bag for the peppermints, shoving three into my mouth to see if I could actually feel something.

The intense menthol burned and cooled as the mints dissolved. My panic had gone, leaving me feeling washed out, hungover. I checked the time on my phone, relieved to see I could safely go home without disturbing Kylie. She’d worked a function last night and hadn’t gotten in until sometime after three, and I wanted to be sure she’d had plenty of sleep before I soured her day with my drama.

Maybe I could keep it to myself. Be one of those people who pretended to go to work each day, but instead sat on a park bench drinking vodka from a bottle in a paper bag.

I snorted. Self-pity made you a whiner, not a winner.

With that short motivational speech I shoved my mints into my bag and headed for the apartment. Despite the crappy day, the weather was nice enough and I decided to walk at my newly discovered pace-with-a-purpose. If nothing good was going to happen today, I could at least burn off a calorie.

Fuck Jeff and his new bride.

Fuck restructuring.

Oh, fuck my life.

* * *

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