Page 6 of The Kat Bunglar

For his molten images are deceitful,

And there is no breath in them.”

Kat glanced from Christian’s phone, which displayed the fundraiser tally, to her own phone showcasing Laila’s Boca Do Lobo 14-seat Gold Dining Table, retailing for $84K. An idea percolated in her head and began gathering steam.

“You know who has ten grand lying around in spare change and probably wouldn’t even miss it?” Kat blurted out.

Christian’s face scrunched in confusion before registering Kat’s implication. “No-no, that is a very bad idea, Kat. I can’t even believe I have to say this—but we can’t just take this woman’s things. That’s wrong, Kat!”

“What if we borrowed it?” Kat said hurriedly. “What if we just took it and then paid her back anonymously? Think of it as a loan so that you don’t get embarrassed by Joseph and the entire nation of Haiti, not to mention getting canceled by your 226K followers.”

“I’ll get two jobs, Kat. I dunna care. My parents were farmers in Haiti before they took over the Ministry of La Chapelle. I’m not compromising my morals and integrity—and by the way, you’re on the hook for this as well. Just because it’s got my name on it doesn’t mean you won’t be chipping in some of those charity funds, missy!”

“Are we really going to come up with $10K in 30 days? If that were possible, wouldn’t we have done it already? Look, I’m in hot water too. My court date is on August 15th. I need a new, semi-decent lawyer by then. I think if you and I did this together, we’d be able to solve both our problems.”

“You’re da one who created my problems, Kat!” Christian hollered.

“I feel like you’re really getting hung up on unnecessary details here,” Kat said, sidestepping the uncalled-for negativity. “Maybe after all is said and done, we could try to convince Laila it’s some kind of tax write-off. We could leave a nice note explaining ourselves and that we’ll be in touch.”

Christian looked at Kat as if she had lost her mind. Pausing, she leaned back against the beanbag and let out a slow exhale. “You want to go to this woman’s house while she’s on vacation in Jamaica, rob her of all her finest possessions, and then leave her an apology note?”

“I just wanted to be polite about it,” Kat huffed. She walked to the mini fridge and pulled out a can of Poppi soda.

A knock at the door thankfully interrupted the awkward silence. Kat opened it, and there, standing on the threshold, was Mrs. Templeton, flanked by her son, Cory.

Mrs. Templeton was already wringing her hands in agitation. “Oh, hello, dear.”

Oh shit, Kat thought.Not the son. “Hi, Mrs. Templeton and Cory,” she said, her voice a bit too loud, her smile stretched a little too wide. “Did you all get the vegan cookie basket we sent you last week?”

Mrs. Templeton nodded, swallowing nervously. “Yes, dear, I did. They were lovely. I’ve never had cranberry and lentil cookies before—it was... a unique flavor combination.”

Christian, never one to miss a cue, strolled over to the front door, fluttering her lashes in mock sweetness. “And what about the crocheted coasters we got you last month? Are your teacups feeling coddled?”

“Oh yes, the teacups have never been more pampered. It’s just—well, you both know you’re about two thousand dollars behind on rent. And, frankly, it’s... it’s getting to be too much.” Mrs. Templeton faltered, looking down at her hands.

Cory stepped in with a sigh, his tone flat but decisive. “Enough, ladies. My mom is done covering for you.”

Kat and Christian exchanged a glance, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kat asked, the words coming out a little too quickly, as both of them struggled to act clueless.

“If you don’t have your rent money by August 1st,” Cory continued, his voice hardening, “I’ll personally toss your stuff out the window. My mother’s been way too accommodating—”

“We can pay you. We have the money,” Kat blurted out wildly, the desperation creeping into her voice. “I just got a large sponsorship. We’ll have the two thousand dollars in the next week, and we’ll even add another thousand for the inconvenience we’ve caused you. An apology tax, if you will.”

Cory rolled his eyes. “I already have two tenants lined up who can pay on time. Consider this your notice to pack your shit and go.”

Christian shot Kat a skeptical look before saying, “It’s true. We’ve got the money. You don’t have to evict us. Give us until August 1st, at least.”

“Uh-huh,” he said flatly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back on August 1st to collect the overdue rent and that thousand-dollar inconvenience fee. My mother’s been way too generous with you gals.”

“Gals?” Christian mouthed in disbelief, her face scrunching in distaste.

Mrs. Templeton patted Cory’s arm lightly, her voice soft but firm. “Well, that’s all, girls. Happy 4th of July. Hope you take some time to enjoy yourselves.” With that, she and Cory turned and walked back down the stairs, their footsteps echoing through the empty hallway.

Kat and Christian stood in the doorway, the lies they couldn’t take back hanging in the air like a cold fog. Neither spoke, but the silence between them pulsed with unspoken urgency. They were screwed if they didn’t get their shit together—and fast.

Christian walked back into the living room and sat cross-legged on the bean bag. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Kat tiptoed into the living room. “Christian—” she began again.

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