Chapter 4 Nina #2
Mixed emotions swirled in my cousin’s eyes, but in the end, after one endless second, he shook his head and looked down to the wooden floors.
I opened the door and headed downstairs, unable to keep my head high, and just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I heard it, far away but unmistakable.
“Real treat your parents got, right?
“Having to take her in.”
“Yeah, she was a lost cause from the beginning,” Vinny responded.
I closed the door to Vinny’s building behind me.
As I stepped outside, I realized he wasn’t wrong to be hesitant.
I was a risk. Unstable. No job, a chronic illness, and a wrecked reputation.
The air felt thicker than before, the setting sun glaring against the puddles on the cracked sidewalk.
Pulling in a shaky breath, I kept walking, each step heavier than the last.
Turning around the corner toward the train station, I picked up my pace as the rain picked up, cold wetness seeping into my scalp. A gray sedan honked and slowed beside me, but I didn’t recognize it, so I kept walking, speeding up to find cover.
It honked again. When I looked, a woman with long ashy hair and tanned skin leaned over from the driver’s seat, waving.
“Hey,” she called. “Nina, right?”
I nodded, searching her face. Two silver piercings glinted in her right ear, but I didn’t know her.
“It’s Carmen,” she said, smiling faintly. “We met at the bakery. I was with Natasha.”
“Oh.” My stomach twisted. “Right. The new marketing strategist.”
Another one of Lincoln’s minions. Great.
“It was nice seeing you,” I said, turning away. “Have a good night.”
“No—wait.” Her voice sharpened just slightly. “Let me give you a ride home.”
I blinked at her. The rain ran down my temples into my collar, cold enough to make me flinch. “Why?”
Leaning over, she popped open the passenger door. Her hair fell forward in a silky curtain as she glanced up at me, eyes unreadable. “Just … let me drive you home.”
I hesitated, clutching my bag to my chest. “Why are you offering?” I didn’t have it in me to pretend.
“No one deserves to walk in the rain,” she murmured.
I stepped forward, pausing before sliding into the seat. The door thunked shut beside me, sealing us off from the pounding rain.
“And,” she added, pulling back into traffic with a calm confidence that sent unease coursing through me, “I like helping people.”
Carmen drove quietly and calmly. The air conditioner hummed furiously to combat the humidity as she merged into the left lane.
I tucked my hands under my thighs, watching rain streak across the side window.
Her hair was in neat waves—clearly, how she had arranged it first thing in the morning; her deep-purple lipstick made her lips full and plush.
The interior smelled faintly of expensive perfume and clean leather.
“I’m a nine-to-fiver.” She chuckled, breaking the silence.
“If they’re trying to bother me at six thirty-something, they can pay me more or wait ’til the morning.
” Her phone buzzed in the cup holder, her eyes not straying from the road.
She smirked, teeth showing, white against violet lips. “Case in point.”
I glanced at the glowing screen, then her. I wouldn’t have been able to keep my own eyes from flicking to my device to check what work needed to be done, driving or not.
She turned her head to me briefly, shrugging devilishly. “I could tell you worked well beyond five. I’m not like that. I’ll work damn hard on their time, my time is mine.”
That was a privilege you could allow yourself if your life didn’t depend on your employer’s health insurance. It was a nice dream, but not my reality.
“What do you mean you could tell I’d work beyond hours?” I asked; her tone was insulting.
“I could see it. I found one of your drafts in the temporary server and restored it. You did a lot of research and put it into a concise strategy. It seemed your next steps would have been benchmarks and potential pivots.” She side-eyed me.
“It was brilliant, if you ask me.” Snickering, she flipped the turn signal.
“Now it’s like I’m some kind of hero at that place.
” She snorted, a sharp, humorless sound, her mouth twisting as if the word hero tasted sour.
Sarcasm and disgust filled the car. “Doesn’t that fucking suck? ”
It did fucking suck. For me. It was great for her. She met my gaze, but her upper lip lifted just slightly. Carmen found the company disgusting, yet she’d still claim credit for my work, I supposed. The car stopped somewhat abruptly outside of my apartment building.
“How do you know where I live?” I asked, confused.
She shrugged. “I’m better with computers than anyone bargained for.” Her head tilted, letting me know it was time to get out of her car. “Nina”—my name coming from her lips stopped me in my tracks—“I hope we can stay in touch.”
My stomach curdled, but I nodded anyway. I wanted to be free and cleared of 3D’s. I didn’t think I could afford not having her on my side.
“Sure,” I said. “Why don’t I take down your number?” I pulled out my phone, ready to type her contact in as “Scary Weird Carmen.”
Then she waved at me, as if telling me I was being silly.
“I told you I’m good with computers. Leave it to me to reach out. Now, if you will.” She pointed at the door. “I am late for a date, and he’s smoking hot.”
With that, I left her car, knowing I was nowhere closer to getting temporary insurance or a cheaper place to live without Vinny’s help.