Page 1 of Perfect Pact

Prologue

Beth

“Mrs.Michaels—”

“Ms.—it’s Ms.,” I correct the lady from the bank who is threatening to repo my truck if I don’t make a payment today. Joke’s on her, I haven’t seen the truck in five years.

“Pardon me,Ms.Michaels, but you are now two months behind. I think we’ve been patient enough.”

“I know.” I sigh, tossing the hand towel on the counter as I lean back on the kitchen island, praying it gives me the support I need to get through this call. “I’m just asking for a few more weeks.”

“Listen, Ms. Michaels, if we do that, you’ll be three payments behind, and honestly, that’s not feasible for us.”

“I can’t have this on my credit report,” I plead.

“I understand, and given your situation, we’ve tried to be accommodating. If you can’t make a payment, maybe we can work together and come to an agreement. I think I have a solution. The break you need, and the truck paid off.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sell the truck.”

“I can’t.”

“Then let us sell the truck for you. I’m looking at your file now. If you voluntarily surrender your vehicle and we can get the balance of the loan paid off, your debt will be wiped clean. And since we are a smaller bank, we have control over our reporting. Your credit will not be affected, Miss Michaels. I can promise you that.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” My voice wavers between a cry and a laugh. “But when I say I can’t, I really can’t. I haven’t seen the truck since my husband left me in this financial mess in the first place. I’ve been doing my best to pay back every single loan, all the credit cards, his friends, loan sharks, tabs, and this truck. A truck I don’t even drive. So, when I tell you I’m trying, I really am. Because I have dreams. And one day, I’m going to see them through.”

“Oh…” The lady’s voice softens for the first time in the past fifteen minutes. I don’t know if maybe she can relate or just feels sorry for me, but if her sudden change of heart buys me extra time, I guess I’ll take it.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” I push off the island and walk over to the sink, gazing out the large window overlooking the rustic old barn out back. A barn that needs a fresh coat of paint and a purpose. I would love to do something with it…ifI had more money. Correction, any money. And no greedy, lying ex.

“Hmmm…can you make a good faith payment?” she interrupts my daydreams. “Just something that shows you’re trying and I’m doing my job?” I hear her ruffle some papers in the background.

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. The one thing I’ve learned when paying back collectors is to be honest. They don’t care what got you there as long as you tell them how you’re going to get out.

“I’m going through your file now. According to your statement, you’ve always made monthly payments. Yes, they were a tad late, but always within the grace period. Which is great. Not bad at all.”

“I’ve been trying, but I lost one of my jobs, and the past few months have been rough. I can’t find anything that will work around my current employer.”

“I see, but if you could do something, even a hundred dollars, that will help.”

“Just give me a minute to run some numbers.” I pull the phone away and tap on my notes where I glance over my budget. “Okay, if I eat ramen and cereal for the next few weeks, I might be able to swing this.” I cringe at the thought of eating another package of chicken flavored noodles.

“I lived on those growing up.” The lady snorts out a laugh.

“I could go for some ramen,” a shaky voice calls out from behind me.

“Mr. Jacobs.” I spin around, finding the old man I’ve been taking care of the past three years standing there, steadying himself with his walker. “I thought you were napping.”

“Eh—” He waves a hand in front of him, flashing me a gummy smile. “I thought I would see if you needed help cleaning up.” He scans the room. “But it looks like you beat me to it.”

I can’t help but smile.

Back when Mr. Jacobs could get around better, he would always stroll into the kitchen just when I was almost done cleaning up to offer to help. I would tease him a little, then make us a glass of sweet tea and head to the porch to watch the sunset together.

“I did.” I turn to grab a glass out of the cabinet and realize I’m still on the phone with the bank. “Oh!” I hold the phone up to my ear. “I’m so sorry. My boss walked in.” I glance over my shoulder and wink at Mr. Jacobs. “Do you care if I…um…you know, take care of that tomorrow?”

“Not a problem. Just give me a call back at this number before three and we’ll finalize our arrangement. Have a wonderful night, Mrs. Michaels.”

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