Page 2 of Leo
She thinks on that one, chewing her fingernail, and finally decides that I probably don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.
She’s right.
I don't know anything about the causes of premature wrinkles, and I don't know how I'm going to save my business. I'm like whatever the opposite of an encyclopedia is.
I really thought the bank would approve my loan.
I’ve had such a good relationship with them. But when I turned up this morning, my usual loan advisor wasn’t there. I had some new guy. Some young, hot-shot who only cared about the rules. Probably looking for a quick promotion or something. Wanted to make an example out of me. Or maybe he just got off on having that kind of power over another person's life.
Either way, it doesn’t make any difference.
I have one week to sort this out. And then the bank will swoop in and gobble up all my hard work.
I’ll have to phone all the customers who’ve booked me for over the summer. Explain to them that Grace’s Gourmet Kitchen is officially over. Then I’ll have to go out and look for a job. With the ever-present specter of my college loans and my business loans weighing me down for years and years to come.
We finish our drinks and stand up to leave.
“I just wish they’d pay me back,” I say. “You know. This stupid Hawthorne Group. I mean, how hard is it to pay me back? They’re a massive, multi-billion dollar company! They even told me how much they enjoyed the food. Said I was the best catering firm they’d ever hired. And now they’re literally putting me out of business because some douchebag in accounting can’t be bothered to send e a check. It’s enough to make me want to pull my hair out.”
“Why don’t you just go down there? Explain your situation?”
“I tried,” I say. “But they wouldn’t even let me past reception. Said I had to book an appointment. Then, when I tried to book an appointment, they told me I’d have to wait three weeks! By then, I’ll be out of business.”
“Well, at least you have me.” Laura wraps her arm around my waist and we head out onto the street.
“Yeah,” I laugh, nudging her with my hip. “I’ll remember that when I’m living on the street selling blowjobs for five bucks.”
“Five bucks!” Laura says. “A girl like you, you could charge at least… seven. You don’t want to sell yourself short.”
“Hey,” I punch her gently in the arm. “Sell myself short! Some friend you are!”
