DELINQUENT

SEVEN

I woke up to my front door slamming.

Good morning to you too.

I looked at my phone. Eight in the morning? Five hours of sleep with a body that really needed eight. What a start to the weekend. I pulled the covers up over my head but the light pouring in from outside had already told my body to get up.

My thoughts raced to last night. Embarrassment washed over me again.

The sheets of my bed were twisted and knotted around me. I kicked my strangled legs to free them. My butt slid to the center of the bed and I let out a dissatisfied grunt. Tom's massive body had formed a perpetual dent in my new mattress leading the entire thing to dip in the center.

I freed my legs and sat up, throwing punches at the mattress with aim to flatten it out and return it to its former glory.

No success. I scooted off the bed and escaped to the bathroom. My back slick with sweat, I momentarily wished for air conditioning. Tom's body gave off a lot of heat, I had woken more than once in the night drenched in sweat.

At least it kept us apart. Or rather, me from throwing myself at him.

I let cold water pour over me in the shower, taking my time to detangle my hair with lazy fingers. Eight AM? I didn't have to be at work until four. What was I going to do with my day?

Fantasies dominated the rest of my shower time. Relaxing on a lush yacht to pass the morning. Playing a posh game of polo at the local club. Popping a bottle of champagne in celebration of a formula one win.

Keep dreaming.

I wrapped myself in a flimsy towel. The handful of crumpled up dollar bills next to the sink told me I would be lucky if today involved buying a plain cup of coffee. I buckled down and tried to think of financially realistic plans.

It couldn't anything physical, anything overly demanding. I knew I would have a long night ahead of me. I was going to be exhausted come 1 AM.

Coffee trickled into my thoughts again. I didn't have a maker nor grounds. Maybe I would go buy myself the cheapest cup I could find and enjoy a local park. Put some sun on my skin.

What was Tom doing right now? I pictured him pouring over a newspaper at an upbeat coffee shop. Then scrunched up my nose with distaste. Did he even drink anything non-alcoholic? Certainly not that I had seen.

It was the first time in days that I didn't have to wear that terrible Deliverance top. I searched through the pile of clothes in my closet, settling on a simple summer t-shirt dress. Flirty without trying too hard. I ran my hands down the front of it, urging the wrinkles to disappear.

No luck.

Coffee. Iron. I needed to make a list of things I needed.

I sorted through my discarded clothes from the night before. Everything reeked of alcohol. I could spend the morning doing laundry. No, not worth it. I'd rather wear ruined clothes than lose my free time. Maybe I could ask Jared for a spare shirt.

Apron in hand, I pulled out all the cash shoved into its depths. The business at work made it hard to keep track of what I was earning. I filled my hands with cash and went to the kitchen, letting it fall onto the countertop.

My cabinets were mostly empty. A single of each thing required to survive; bowl, plate, fork, spoon, cup. It didn't fill even one shelf.

Pathetic.

I went into the pantry and opened it. A large ceramic jar, seafoam green in color, sat at eye level next to a half-eaten box of Froot Loops.

Even more pathetic.

Be better than Froot Loops Mila.

I rescued the fragile jar from its shelf, placed it on the counter and removed its lid. This jar was my life. Stuffed with my earnings from work, it contained my entire net worth. I started pulling loose bills out, taking my time unfolding and straightening them out before sorting them into piles; ones, fives, tens, twenties, even a fifty.

If I wanted to buy anything, I needed to set a budget, know exactly what I was making before I could sort my life out. I counted each pile once. Then twice. No, that couldn't be right. I counted through all the bills again. Three days. Three days of work and I had already almost enough to make rent for the month.

If tonight was anything like last night, I'd have rent by midnight. Maybe enough have enough to pay off my phone bill and have that plain coffee I wanted.

Holy s**t, I'm making real money.

I smiled at my new paperback friends. If I could buy one thing, what would I buy? What was my top priority?

The door to my apartment screeched open leaving me breathless. Before I had time to think, I grabbed the cash off the counter and pushed it to the floor, hoping that the cabinets would hide what I was doing from the door. I braced my hands on the counter trying to look equally tough and casual.

A sigh fell from my lips when I saw Tom enter as if he owned the place.

My eyes shifted down to stare at the counter under my palms, "You know you don't live here right?" I bit out as my heart settled from the scare. I flexed my hands against the counter needing to release the built-up adrenaline.

"Then why do I have keys?" He asked, throwing my keys on the counter in front of me. "Relax. I got us breakfast." He added before I could begin shouting. He set a brown paper McDonald's bag down as he pulled himself onto a bar stool.

He appeared to be halfway through his day already. Showered and changed he still managed to look deliciously disheveled. His muscles stood strong, veins full, freshly charged from a workout. His phone was tucked in his front pocket which made me think he was on the clock – always working.

I should fight him on this, he couldn't come and go as he pleased. He couldn't take my keys without asking. He couldn't let me wake up alone.

My stomach growled. "Did you get hash browns?" I peeked in the bag and smiled. Taking no time at all to serve myself a breakfast sandwich and hash brown before letting him help himself.

Before I dug in, I bent down, collecting all the discarded money on the floor. Any semblance of organization gone, I shoved the bills onto the counter.

"What are you- a drug dealer?" He asked, a twinkle in his eye. I snorted, picking up more of the loose bills.

"Ha. Ha." I said dryly.

"You should put that in the bank." He advised me as he helped himself to the leftover McDonalds. I shoved the money back in the jar before returning it to it shelf in the pantry and shutting the door.

"I will." I replied, facing the wall. I was never a good liar, better not to face him, not risk him reading into it. I couldn't go to the bank, couldn't risk filling out the paperwork. Leaving a trail like that would be the key to my demise.

We fell into a comfortable silence, nibbling at our food, checking out phones, catching up on the world as we started our day. Satisfied with the status of my email – empty. I made a list of things I needed on a scrap of paper.

Iron. Milk. Any cereal other than Froot Loops. Frozen Pizza. Coffee Maker. Coffee.

My eyes wandered to Tom, lost in his phone, his brows were stiff with focus.

Extra towel. Couch? Car?

Satisfied with the list, I finished my sandwich and gathered up the trash from breakfast, crumpling it up and throwing it out.

Tom watched me as I flitted around the kitchen cleaning up, eyes sharp. "You working tonight?" He asked.

"I work every night."

His face and voice were smooth but I thought I saw a crease in his brow. There and gone. "Good. I gotta get going." He stood, sliding the stool back into place. I was taken aback by his manners. His eyes ran over my body forcing my heart to pick up.

"Convince Jared to let you wear dresses to work and you'll need a second jar." He said as he let himself out. Was that a compliment? I look down over my clothes again, not sure how to respond. Normally, I would brush off his advances, but this felt different. He hadn't said it to get in my pants, he had said it because he had meant it. The door closed softly behind him.

I rubbed the palms of my hands into my cheeks, begging them to stop flushing. One compliment, barely a compliment at that and I had lit up like a stoplight.

Get it together. He's a d**k. Remember?

A d**k that could kiss.

I shook my head hoping to restart my brain. Rid Tom of all my thoughts. Not five minutes after his departure, I left, locking the apartment up tight behind me.

I began walking to nowhere, taking in my new city. My new home. I walked through my neighborhood hoping that the seediness would dissipate as I worked my way downtown.

It didn't. Shifty characters seemed to line the streets, the local park I had fantasized about was overrun with the homeless who were not afraid to catcall.

Feeling disheartened I returned to the apartment with just enough time to change for work and leave. Was the whole city like that? Filled with crooks and bad luck? It seemed like it. Hell, I wasn't helping our image any. My soiled Deliverance shirt and dirty converse made me no better.

I texted Jared on my way to work.

Do you have extra shirts? Mine is so dirty.

I was right on time to work. Liza, Charlie, and Jared were already huddled behind the bar preparing for the night ahead. I gave them a friendly wave as I worked my way to the office.

"I left a T-shirt on the chair for you." Jared called to my back. I shot him a thumbs up.

I flung my purse haphazardly on a chair and grabbed the shirt. It was the large Jared had given me the choice to have earlier. I pulled my own shirt off and the clean one on. It fell down low hiding the edge of my shorts.

It would have to do. I tied my apron around my waist and adjusted my pens before heading to wipe down tables. Jared's eyes narrowed on me as I wrung a washcloth out in the sink.

"Now that is going to sell drinks." He breathed.