Page 6 of Resisting Mr. Fancy Pants

She held up a finger and then ran to her room. When she came back, she handed me an envelope. “Mary Sue invited me to her birthday party. Can I go?”

I opened up the card and read the invitation to Mary Sue’s seventh birthday party. Zoe’s hopeful eyes shattered me. The problem was she didn’t know I was broke. Unlike my mom, I didn’t want her to know. Zoe didn’t ask for a lot. She didn’t need a lesson in excess. She certainly didn’t need a lesson on poverty.

Because I was “the teen mom,” as the other moms saw it, Zoe didn’t have many friends. She hadn’t been invited to a birthday party until today. Even though buying a gift for another child would stretch my budget to the limits, I couldn’t say no.

“Yes, kiddo. You can go.”

She stood on her toes and cheered.

“How about we watch a movie? We’ll go to the park after lunch.”

“A princess one?” she asked.

“Your wish is my command.” I cued up a movie. “I’ll be right back,” I told her and headed to my room.

After making the commitment about the party, I had an urgent need to figure out my finances. I was saving money to get Zoe dance lessons I hadn’t been able to pay for and a princess costume with a crown that wasn’t made of plastic. I’d been a coupon-cutting weekly saver. I was desperate to make this the best Christmas for my daughter that I could.

As I reached for my purse, I silently cursed the Bowmens. I’d read somewhere that Mitchell was a big-time sports agent making millions a year, yet he hadn’t once taken an interest in his daughter. Because of a stupid mistake only a kid would make, I couldn’t ask him for a penny more than the twenty-five hundred his father had given me all those years before after signing an agreement.

I opened my purse and frantically dumped the contents out on my bed. I pushed around the contents as if it would change a thing. My wallet wasn’t there. My paycheck and tips from yesterday were all inside it. If I couldn’t find it, not only would I risk not being able to pay rent next month, all my plans for Christmas would be toast.

If not for Zoe calling me back into the living room to watch her favorite part of the movie, I would have cried. Instead, I held it in and put a smile I didn’t feel on my face. I picked my phone up. “I have to make a call,” I said to Zoe, holding up a finger.

The movie would continue to play even while I made the call. I closed my door because I wasn’t sure I could contain my reaction if one of the two calls didn’t produce the results I desperately needed.

I checked the time, and it was early, but I couldn’t wait. A quick check on Google, and I had the phone number to the Pony Up bar in the neighboring town of Mason Creek.

“Pony Up.” A man answered the phone.

“Hi, my name’s Haley Stillman. I believe I lost my wallet there last night.”

“Can you describe it?”

I did, from the pink color to everything inside, including the amount of cash that was in there.

“Give me a minute to check,” he said, before putting me on hold.

If he came back and said no, I’d call Avery and pray that it had fallen out in her jeep. A minute later, he picked up. “Yeah, we have it.”

“When can I come by and pick it up?”

“Anytime. We’re open until about one.”

“In the afternoon?” I asked, surprised.

“In the morning.”

“Thanks.”

My next call was to Avery.

“Hay-lee,” she singsonged. “How are you doing this morning?”

“My head is killing me,” I finally admitted. “Tell me I didn’t do anything stupid?” My memories were still a little hazy.

“Nope. I did have to stop you,” she said.

I put my hand on my head and groaned, remembering my encounter with the gorgeous businessman. Only I had more important things to worry about. “I can’t find my wallet, though.”

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