Page 234 of Unexpected Hero

Hell, I’ve seen everyone topless at the club. And most of them bottomless.

I plant my fists on my hips. “It ain’t nothin’, Freya. He lied to me. Treated me like a dang 501(c)(3) organization. I hope you gave him a receipt for his taxes.” I stomp my foot, tantrum mode activated. “Damn him! I thought we got over this shit.”

“Pump the brakes. This happened before?”

Sumbitch. Let me just air all my dirty laundry at once.

“Pour yourself a glass of wine and join me in my circle of sadness. Otherwise known as the living room.”

She claps her hands and darts into the kitchen. “Yes! We’re off tonight, so let’s get drunk.”

I hold up my index finger. “None for me. What if I’m… you know?”

“Too early to have an impact, but whatever. I’ll get you some water. If you’re still upset after we chat, we’re going dancing tonight. I need to teach you how to do a proper body roll. It’ll go nicely with your karaoke performances.”

After pouring our drinks, she joins me on the couch. “Tell me about the time when James did horribly, non-romantic shit to you. Like buying you things.”

“It only sounds romantic until someone does it to you.”

“Bitch, do you know how many women would drop trou and spread their thighs for a man to pay their rent? Add in a bougie new bedroom set like that? They’d happily do butt stuff. Allll the butt stuff.”

Not responding to her theatrics, I give her the Southern side-eye. It’s like a regular side-eye, but often done in a fancy hat.

“Jokes aside. Tell me what happened the last time he spoiled you.”

I take a deep breath, letting my lips flap with the force of the exhale. “I met him when I was getting gas. I was in tears, and he asked me what was wrong.”

“To be fair, gas prices are depressing.”

“No lies detected.” I grin, but it fades fast. “I was crying because I overspent at the fuel pump — thanks, ADHD — so I had nothing left to buy food. At all. And I was sangry.”

She narrows her eyes in confusion.

“It’s like hangry, but sad,” I explain.

Her head cocks to one side, and she purses her lips. “Wouldn’t that be sungry?”

Damn. She’s right. My whole life is a lie.

She waves her hand, motioning for me to continue.

“Anyhow, he opened his wallet, gave me eighty dollars in cash. On the spot. Barely flinched.”

“Should have held out for a hundred,” she jokes, nearly making me choke on my water.

When I stop chuckling, I continue, “We talked a bit, and he asked to take me out for coffee. I told him it was my treat since I didn’t want him to spend more money on me. Right then, we went to a coffee place down the road. Needless to say, I left with the eighty dollars still in my purse and a to-go bag filled with a sandwich, salad, fruit, protein bars, and snacks.”

My shoulders jerk back when I remember another detail. “Oh and a hundred-dollar gift card for more coffee.”

Holding perfectly still with her wine poised in front of her mouth, she blinks rapidly. “Wow. How awful for you. Where does he get off? The nerve of him,” she drones, flat and monotone, sounding like an annoyed robot.

“Listen, I hear ya. I know how it sounds. It should be sweet and all. But you have to understand about my mama… err grandmama. She was so dang horrible to me when I left the church. She predicted I’d be broke, homeless, and turning tricks for crack. I’ve been hell-bent on proving her wrong.”

I pause for a deep breath.

Mama also said I’d end up knocked up.

Freya lowers her chin, warmth shining in her face now instead of sarcasm. “By accepting his help, you felt like your mama was right about you. Is that it?”

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