Chapter 9 ~ Isabella ~
M y eyes were still closed and I was only half awake, but I already sensed that something around me was different than usual. The typical, sometimes more, sometimes less muffled noise that usually filled the streets around my apartment day and night was nowhere to be heard. The darkness on the other side of my eyelids also seemed different than usual. Brighter. Less black. And last but not least, the bed I was lying in felt completely different from my own. The mattress wasn't the same, and the comforter was heavier than the one at home.
Where was I?
Why wasn't I at home?
What had happened yesterday?
With my eyes still closed, I tried to remember. My head felt a bit heavier than usual today, and thinking seemed to be slower. I pieced together one fragment after another until a picture of last night emerged. We had celebrated Fiona's bachelorette party at a hotel, and right after my arrival, I had quickly drunk quite a lot because I wanted to forget some things. I had been fired and had an accident on the way to the party.
An accident.
With an incredibly hot guy who, by pure chance, had later shown up at Fiona's bachelorette party. Thanks to a completely crazy dare, I had kissed him and then...
...we had ended up in a hotel room shortly after, where we spent an unforgettable night. The thought of it sent heat and warmth flooding through my body. I had never experienced a night like the last one. I had never met a man like Carter. He had completely overwhelmed me. I could hardly believe that I had gone to bed with a man I barely knew. That wasn't like me at all, but the alcohol had simply made my inhibitions disappear. And the night had been incredibly satisfying. Magnificent.
I tried to focus on the here and now again, which I managed only with difficulty. Carter and I had snuck into a hotel room. That's where I was now, in a strange bed.
With Carter?
My... fiancé?
Remembering the prank we had played on Carter's companion last night, I giggled with my eyes closed.
Ouch.
As I only now noticed while giggling, my head hurt a little. The unpleasant throbbing probably came from all the alcohol. And the little sleep I had gotten last night. The memory of it made me warm again, and I wished for nothing more than to look into Carter's bright blue eyes. So I opened my eyes. In the slightly dim light around me, I made out the outlines of some furniture. A closet. A TV. I turned to the side. A desk. And a bed in which no one but me was lying.
I was alone.
Where was Carter?
Slowly, I sat up until I was leaning against the pillow. My hand felt for the light switch, found it, and pressed it. It became bright around me. The light hurt my eyes a bit, and I blinked hard.
I was still alone.
My clothes were scattered on the carpet, just as I had thrown them to the floor yesterday when Carter had ordered me to undress. That dominance had surprised and incredibly aroused me.
Carter's clothes had been right next to mine.
But now they were gone.
Only my clothes were here. And that could only mean one thing.
Carter was gone.
I held my breath. Had he just left me without a word in an anonymous hotel room after this night? Was he no better than all the men I had met before? A bit of casual fun with his "fiancée" was probably all he had wanted. Taking advantage of an annoying accident.
Isabella! Now hold on a second! The engagement was just a joke. You can't derive any claims from that, none at all. Yesterday was about exactly that: a bit of casual fun. Nothing more and nothing less. That was perfectly clear to you when you went upstairs with him. Besides, he didn't take advantage of the situation. You were the one who kissed him.
But even though my head knew all too well that I was right and I didn't regret anything, I felt a certain disappointment inside me.
Isabella, forget it. Better get ready and think about what to do next instead of continuing to mope around here. That won't get you anywhere. You have more important things to do. Remember, you need a new job. And urgently! Otherwise, you're ruined! Carter will get in touch if he wants money for the damage to his car.
The thought made me flinch. I would have liked to stay a little longer in this bed, where there were only memories of exciting hours and no worries about the future. But I literally couldn't afford that. Sighing, I turned around and slowly swung my legs over the edge of the bed. That's when my gaze fell on the nightstand on my side of the bed.
My heart leaped.
On the nightstand were three things that didn't belong there and that... that were probably meant for me.
A white artificial flower that must have come from one of the arrangements in the hotel.
A business card.
And a note from one of the hotel's notepads with a message.
With a pounding heart, I picked up the note.
Good morning, fiancée,
Feel like visiting me tonight at 7 PM in my penthouse? It's right above my company. The address is on the business card.
I'd be delighted.
Carter
After reading the words, I gasped, and my heart leaped wildly in my chest. Surprise, joy, and disbelief mingled within me.
He wanted to see me again.
The man who had impressed me from the first moment like no other hadn't simply left me alone like everyone else before him. A smile spread across my face, the kind that comes from deep within. My cheeks grew warm.
He wanted to see me again.
And this despite the fact that all the women in New York must be falling at his feet. He obviously lacked nothing: money, good looks, an athletic body, impeccable manners, a charming personality. That I wanted to see him again was beyond question.
So now the story I had dreamed up yesterday, which could have come from a Hollywood movie, had actually come true. I had met a man at a bachelorette party.
I giggled softly again.
This time my head didn't hurt as much.
Slowly, I picked up the business card that had been lying next to the note. It had the address of a company in the middle of Manhattan. Carco Batteries . With a pounding heart, I put the small rectangular piece of cardboard back on the nightstand and stood up. My bag was right next to the door. Carefully, so as not to provoke any more headaches, I bent down and fished out my phone. In the contacts, I pulled up Carter's number, which I had saved yesterday after our accident. That wasn't even 24 hours ago. Yet it felt like I had known Carter for an eternity.
I typed a short message.
Hey fiancé. Thanks for your note. See you tonight. Looking forward to it.
For a moment, I considered adding a heart. Or a kiss. But then I didn't. Our story was still too fresh. Before I could think about it for too long, I sent the message. The reply didn't take long. It consisted of just one emoji. A thumbs up. The well-known Like. I waited briefly to see if a longer message would follow. But that wasn't the case.
What did you expect, Isabella? Another white flower? That's probably not his style, and that's not surprising. Men are like that.
Just as I was about to put the phone back in my bag, it suddenly vibrated in my hand. Continuously. Not a message, but a call. A shiver of anticipation shot through my body, and my skin began to tingle, just as it had done last night under Carter's touch.
He's calling.
I quickly raised the phone to my face.
An unknown number.
Disappointed, I stared at the screen with the sequence of numbers.
Whoever was calling me right now, it wasn't Carter.
Isabella! Don't be so unrealistic. You're not his fiancée!
"Isabella Abbott!" Before I could think any more about Carter, I decided to answer the call. Maybe it was another pleasant surprise. A hotel I had sent an application to a few months ago that was now getting back to me?
"Good morning, Ms. Abbott, this is Suvindher Smith from New York Bank." An Indian-American woman's voice, fitting her name perfectly, greeted me.
New York Bank. My bank.
What did they want from me?
"I'm calling about the last installment for your loan."
"Yes?" I asked cautiously.
"Unfortunately, we haven't received the scheduled payment."
"I... uh... that's correct. I couldn't transfer the installment yet because the salary payments in my company have been restructured. I now receive my salary at the end of the month instead of mid-month. I had notified you about this."
"Ah yes..." Suvindher Smith replied reservedly. Through the line, I could hear the clatter of a keyboard. "Indeed, I don't see a salary payment here like in previous months. However, we have no record of any notification. Are you sure you sent the message to us?"
"Of course." Did Suvindher Smith think I was lying to her? I swallowed indignantly. It was probably better if I didn't show my outrage to the clerk at my bank.
"However, that doesn't change the fact that you are now in default on your loan. For this case, it's noted here that we should automatically debit the installments from your checking account again. We tried to do this yesterday. Unfortunately, your account does not have sufficient funds." Suvindher Smith's voice sounded completely neutral as she informed me of these unpleasant facts.
"Yes, I know that," I confirmed. I frantically tried to think of what I could say. I had no money. Sure, my salary payment was still pending. But that would only postpone the problem, not solve it. Since I no longer had a job, I would find myself in the same situation next month as I was in now.
Desperately, my gaze wandered around the hotel room, searching for something to latch onto. It settled on the white artificial flower. But unlike just a few minutes ago, its sight no longer cheered me up. Last night had only been a pleasant interruption of my daily routine. Now reality was catching up with me again. A reality in which I was broke, jobless, and on top of that, heavily in debt.
"I've reviewed your account activity for the past few months. All incoming and outgoing transactions on your checking account." Suvindher Smith still sounded completely neutral. Was I even talking to a human? Or was this one of those robots being tested in call centers around the world, perhaps already in use? An Indian-American robot?
At this thought, I chuckled softly.
Suvindher Smith heard me nonetheless. "I'm glad you find this amusing. We, as your bank, don't find it amusing at all. On the contrary, the situation is very serious!" Suvindher Smith now sounded slightly sharp and a bit offended that I wasn't giving the topic my full attention in her eyes.
But the topic had my full attention.
Day and night.
That was exactly the problem. I had to make a joke occasionally or imagine something funny to take my mind off things and not completely despair. Especially since getting fired yesterday morning.
I cleared my throat. "I'm fully aware of the gravity of the situation."
"Good," Suvindher Smith replied curtly. "You spend money on the usual things each month. Your car, food, clothing, you seem to go out occasionally. Apart from your salary, you have no other income."
The woman had actually scrutinized my life! The thought of how easily my habits could be traced through my account activity sent a chill down my spine. I liked to pay with my card often and had never considered that with each transaction, I was giving private information to my bank.
"I don't see much potential for savings," Suvindher Smith continued, without waiting for my response. "You live extremely modestly."
"Thank you." Now that was a compliment.
"Nevertheless, you have no savings whatsoever. Your account is dry, as we say here in America. If even one unforeseen event occurs, you'll have a big problem. What will you do if your car suddenly breaks down? How do you plan to pay for the repair? Or what happens if you have an accident?"
"Uh..." I said uncomfortably. That was exactly the question I had to answer now. I had had an accident. But I'd better keep that from Suvindher Smith.
"I'd like to discuss these questions with you in person, Ms. Abbott."
At that moment, I especially wished that Suvindher Smith was just a voice robot and not a real employee of the New York Bank .
"You said your salary would arrive in two weeks and you could pay off all due installments?" Suvindher Smith now sounded neutral again. Businesslike.
"That's right. That's what I said," I replied.
"Then let's make an appointment in two weeks. By then, your account should be balanced again. If that surprisingly isn't the case, we can discuss everything else then, because we would naturally have to initiate the sale of your apartment. As provided for in the loan agreement, we wouldn't need your consent for the sale anymore."
While I was making an appointment with Suvindher Smith, an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
Sale.
What was only a remote possibility for Suvindher Smith would become reality all too soon. Since I no longer had a job, I wouldn't be getting any more salary to pay off my loan. Whether I would lose the apartment this month or next was basically irrelevant.
And then what?
Without a secured income and no savings, I wouldn't even be able to find a room to rent.
I'd have to disturb my sister Joanna on her vacation. She would be as helpful as always and wouldn't let me feel that I had failed spectacularly once again.
I didn't want to fail.
Desperately, I stared at the white artificial flower, the business card, and Carter's message. It was all well and good that I had a date with a hot guy tonight. But that wouldn't make my financial problems disappear into thin air.
The morning that had started so promisingly was suddenly not so pleasant anymore.
What should I do?
How would my life go on?