Page 57 of Fearless Sinner

“I’m sorry. I truly am. You seem enthusiastic about your family’s restaurant. I’m sorry to destroy your hopes. I have no doubt you’ll put the work in to revive the place, but the debts on it are just too substantial. What we don’t want is a situation where the money you borrow is just enough to pay the debts. If you can minimize those, then you can try again in six months.”

Six months. Will Mom even be alive then? “Okay. Thank you for trying for me.”

“Of course. And I am truly sorry.”

She’s sorry? So am I. “Thanks.”

“Take care.”

We hang up and I feel so weak I fear I may faint.

I walk over to the wall and rest my hand on it. My breathing is a labored staccato and my chest hurts like I’m going to have a heart attack.

That fucking Harlan. This shit is about him again.

What am I going to tell Mom?

She looked hopeful this morning. Knowing about the loan application gave her hope. How can I tell her I didn’t get it?

I don’t care what she said to me; hearing this news is going to break her heart all over again.

I was so confident I’d get the loan. Or at least I was trying to be positive.

I really believed this would work.

But it didn’t.

Chapter Fifteen

Chloe

I end up back at Kimera.

I’m at the bar having a drink.

I don’t know if I should call this place the bar where I had my disastrous interview. Or the place where Cillian first kissed me.

None of that matters. I don’t have either. Not the job or Cillian. How funny. Both were unobtainable to me but I went after them anyway.

Just like the loan.

I think I knew deep down that I wouldn’t get it from the interview when Mrs. Grimfrost started telling me how difficult the restaurant industry was.

Those doubts I had every now and again were my instincts or that sixth sense people talk about.

I tried to be positive because I didn’t have the energy to deal with the negative, so I chose the easiest option and decided to believe. Have faith. Have hope. Whatever.

It was all bullshit. I had no better luck than if I’d decided to dance around a fire with a broomstick.

I called Roxanne to tell her. She was as sad as I expected her to be but she put on her big girl shoes and tried to calm me.

She wanted me to come home but I told her I needed time to myself. Time to do whatever it is I’m doing. Wallowing. Feeling sorry for myself. Cursing my life. Dragging the remnants of my hopes to hell.

I take another gulp of my drink. It’s a vodka martini. The strongest drink I order when I need a hit.

And I think I’m a little tipsy.

I keep seeing Mom’s face and I keep imagining how I’m going to break this news to her.

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