Lexie
Four Months Later
As I gazed out the front window, I literally groaned. "Oh, my God."
Gwen, my cousin, had been heading toward the rear hallway with her suitcase. She stopped and turned back. "What's wrong?"
Gwen had pale blonde hair, oversized glasses, and a warm smile. Of course, she wasn't smilingnow,probably because I wasn't smiling.
But who could blame me?
Outside the front window, snow was falling in big festive flakes. It looked so pretty that Imight'vesmiled if only some of those flakes weren't landing on a truly dreadful sight.
I told Gwen, "You're not gonna believe this."
She set down her suitcase and moved toward me. "Believe what?"
I hitched a thumb toward the front window. "That'shim."
"Him who?"
I couldn’t help but cringe. "The monster."
She gave a little gasp. "You don't mean the guy who fired you?"
Technically, I'd quit. But that was beside the point. Right there, a snowball's throw away, was the pricey red sports car that my former boss used to drive to work.
It was parked in the driveway across the street. The driveway was connected to an obscenely expensive house, one that was located on a high bluff overlooking Lake Michigan, here in a gated neighborhood that was astronomically beyond my price range.
Gwen joined me at the front window. "Where?" She squinted through the glass. "I don't see anyone."
Again, I pointed. "That's his car." The car was sleek and exotic with a name I could barely pronounce. At the office, I'd dubbed it the monster-mobile, and the name had stuck, filtering through the company like a bad rumor.
Did I feel guilty?
Heck no.
The grump had totally deserved it.
Gwen studied the car for barely an instant before saying with a laugh, "Oh, come on. It's probably someone else's."
I shook my head. "Nope. Not a chance."
"But how can you be sure?"
Oh, I could be sure, alright.
Ever since quitting my job, I'd had lots of luck – except all of it was bad.
Not only had I been unable to find a decent replacement job, I'd run into all kinds of other problems too, expensive problems like a leaky roof and some plumbing issues in the kitchen – not here, but at my own house, a cute little bungalow that I shared with my sister.
The bungalow – which now sported a brand-new roof and fresh copper piping – was currently being rented out while I stayed here at my aunt's place.
Unlike the mansion across the street, my aunt's house wasn't on the water. Still, it was huge, magnificent, and so beautifully decorated, I felt like I was living in one of those model homes that realtors stage when they're desperate to sell.
But my aunt wasn't selling. AndIwasn't buying.
Technically, I was here to work.
