by Lynn Stevens
“Look, Chomper, I’m —” He froze when he realized what had come out of his mouth. They’d made a deal and he just blew it. Calling her Chomper was an automatic defense when he knew he’d set her off.
“Do you know why I hate it when you call me that?” she asked in a soft voice. Her head was down and she picked at her cuticles. Zac wanted to take her hand and comfort her somehow, but how was more difficult than he realized. She lifted her head, tears rimming her eyes. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid.” He swallowed hard. If they were going to be friends, this was one hurdle they needed to get over. “I ... I only call you that when I know it’ll piss you off or distract you from something I said.”
Macie snorted. “Figures.”
“Excuse me?” Zac sat back and stared at her. He should’ve known. The tears were gone. She’d pulled him in only to knock him down. Typical Macie. She was like a black widow waiting to bite his head off.
“I just...” Macie clenched then unclenched her hands. “Whenever you call me that, it reminds me of my most embarrassing moment. I’d seen these two hot guys across the room and I strolled up to them to prove to my new roomie that I wasn’t afraid of anything. Then I tripped. I fucking bit you.” Her cheeks reddened. “And you remind of it every time we see each other, every time you call me that.”
Zac laughed.
“Oh, fuck you, Zac. I don’t need this —”
“Slow down, Mace.” He held up his hands to stop the verbal onslaught. “I’m not laughing at you. Really. I’m laughing at the situation. We’re both idiots.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure one of us is.” She crossed her arms and wrinkled her eyebrows.
“Fine. I’m an idiot.” He shook his head. This could’ve been cleared up years ago if they’d only opened their mouths for good instead of evil. If they’d actually talked to one another instead of jumping to conclusions. “Tell me it’s not a little bit funny.”
Macie’s glare softened, then she cracked a smile. “Maybe a bit.”
“Ford and Lauren really want us to get along until the wedding.” Zac held out his hand. “Truce? Like a real truce and not the bull we fed them earlier.”
“I have a better idea.” Macie took his hand and met his gaze. “Hi, I’m Macie Regan. I’m overly organized and a verbal tyrant. I also cuss like a sailor and give zero fucks who I offend. But I’m very loyal to my friends. Nice to met you.”
“Ah, I see,” Zac said with a laugh. He could play this game. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Zac Sparks, former heir apparent to Sparks Investments. I love music, play guitar when I can, and am easily offended. I also have this thing about clichés.”
“Wait, roll back there, buddy.” Macie raised an artfully crafted eyebrow. “Former heir apparent?”
Zac shrugged. “It’s a long story.”
“Fair enough. But you play guitar?” Her eyes widened.
“I dabble.”
“Dabble?” Macie crossed her legs and leaned an elbow against her knee. “Care to elaborate?”
Zac turned toward her easel, his ears heating. Why did he even bother to say anything? All Macie had said was the obvious. “Maybe some other time. I doubt you’d like it anyway.”
“How do you know? It might be right up my alley.”
Zac still couldn’t look at her. The last thing he needed was to give her more ammunition for the moment the truce was over.
“Okay, fair enough.” She stood and walked toward the easel, just out of his sight. “You know why I painted this? It was because I was going down a rabbit hole at work and I wasn’t sure I’d make it out alive. It felt like my life was spiraling out of control.” She motioned to the overall black, gray, and white spiral that covered the entire canvas. “Then I started to think about all the other times I felt like that. Like when Darren dumped me on Halloween. Or when my mom ...” Macie’s shoulders dropped. “When my mom told me who my father was. Or when I didn’t get asked to prom. Those,” she pointed to the smaller spirals, “are represented here. It’s a never ending problem. My life always has moments like this.”
“What about the moments when you’re not spiraling?” Zac asked softly. He didn’t want to break the spell she’d fallen under. “Where are those?”
“That’s just it, Zac. We’re always spiraling toward the end. We’re never in control.” She turned toward him as the buzzer in the kitchen went off again. “Anyway, we should eat and get to work. There’s a lot to go through.”
Zac nodded, but he couldn’t stop replaying her words. Was he spiraling? His entire life he’d been in control of everything. At least, he never felt like he wasn’t. What would it feel like to let go? To just see what happened? Macie seemed to have a grasp of it. He stared at her as she explained what she’d already planned, but he didn’t hear anything. How could she just accept that she had no control? How could she be so nonchalant about it? By the time they’d finished eating and gone over the parties, Zac had a newfound respect for Macie. Who knew, maybe their truce could end up being long term. Maybe.
ZAC WAS LESS ENTHUSIASTIC about the bachelorette party Macie had planned. Instead of getting frustrated, she promised herself she’d listen and take his suggestions into consideration. It wasn’t easy, but she managed. Every plan she had set into place needed to be scratched. That was the only headway they made. By the end of the evening, the only thing they agreed upon was starting over. At least he liked the biscuits.
This was going to be harder than she thought. Even though she knew he was Guy, it didn’t make it any easier to get rid of past prejudices. Macie sat in her chair and stared out the window. Zac exited the building, stopping before the sidewalk. His jeans hugged in all the right places. Macie had never denied how attractive he was, but knowing the real Zac amplified it by a hundred. Getting past years of animosity would take time. And patience. More patience than she normally had.
Zac glanced back at her building before shaking his head and heading off down the sidewalk. He disappeared around the corner, and Macie finally relaxed. She wanted to confess everything to him the minute he stepped into her apartment. When his gaze trailed over her legs, she knew she at least had that on him. Macie stretched her legs out in front of her. They were her best assets.
Her phone vibrated on her desk. Macie was so lost in thoughts of Zac, she didn’t look at the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Why is Zac leaving your place?” Lauren shrilled on the other end. Her flair for the dramatic sparked at the most unusual times. After all, it was Lauren and Ford who wanted joint parties.
Macie laughed. “Because we’re planning the bachelorette/bachelor party. Why else would he be here?” If only he was here for something else. “Wait, how’d you know he was here?”
“Oh, that makes so much sense. And Ford told me Zac was there.” Lauren sighed the kind of sigh that meant there was something else going on.
“So, one, are you stalking me? And two, why’re you really calling?” Macie asked. Lauren never called unless she wanted something, or needed something. It didn’t matter if that something was information or notes for a class or for a recipe. Lauren was never one to call to chat. Macie liked that about her. It was one reason they got along.
“You know me so well.” A door closed on Lauren’s end. “It’s Ford. He’s stressing out like I’ve never seen. He got his first bill for his student loans earlier than we were told. And... it’s higher than we expected. A lot higher.”
“Like how a lot?” Fear squeezed Macie’s chest. Ford had scholarship money. More than Macie had gotten. If he was panicking, what would her first payment look like?
“Like how-are-we-going-to-live a lot.” She paused. Macie could almost see Lauren closing her eyes and covering her head with a pillow. Sure enough, Lauren’s voice was muffled when she spoke again. “It’s more than our rent. I’ll have to get a job. Freelancing won’t cut it. The money MatchInHeaven pays freelancers isn’t enough long term. We could live off it for a while, but not for
long. And we’ll have to hold off starting a family. That alone is eating at him. It’s eating at me, too.”
“Ford’s always been a traditionalist in a male chauvinist sort of way.” Macie never approved of his desire to marry and start a family immediately, but Lauren wanted the same thing. Who was she to judge?
“Stop. You know I want a huge family. And it was in the plan. We planned out every aspect of this. How could we have miscalculated so ... poorly? Even Zac thought we’d be in a good financial situation.” Lauren’s voice cracked. “What’re we going to do, Mace?”
“Survive.” Macie picked through her mail as she talked. A knot formed in her stomach. If Ford had gotten his, hers wasn’t far behind. Most of it was junk mail but a white envelope with bright blue lettering caught her eye. There it was. Her first loan payment notice had come in. It wasn’t supposed to start until six months after graduation, but there it was. She swallowed hard. If Ford’s was more than their meager rent, how much was hers? She stared at the envelope for a moment before her gaze drifted toward the spiral painting. “That’s all we can do.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
For three days, Macie avoided her phone and her Blind Friends app. She went through the motions in zombie mode. Everything was done by the time she left work Sunday. That left Monday and Tuesday to curl up into a ball and hide from the loaming bill on her counter. She couldn’t pay it. She couldn’t pay half of it. Hell, she couldn’t pay a quarter of it. She could only pay the amount she’d budgeted for. She thought about calling the company and pleading her case, but it wouldn’t do any good. So she did the only thing she could think of. She cried.
Then she wrote to Zac.
I’m ruined before my life even starts. I mean really starts. Not that life doesn’t start the minute you’re born, or conceived depending on your point of view, but you understand, right? I mean my adult life. Everything I’ve been working toward these last four years might as well have been a pipe dream.
My first bill for my student loan payment came in. It’s far more than I expected. Like so much more I’d have to mortgage all my vital organs to pay half of it. I’m terrified. And I’m angry at myself for not realizing how much it would be. I even sat down with a financial advisor at school before graduation to help me figure out where I was and what I could reasonably afford. And we based that off the lowest salary I would take. I actually make more than what I expected. So how did I get it so wrong?
And what am I going to do?
I can go back to tending bar or waiting tables to make some extra money, but other than that I have no idea. And it wouldn’t be enough. I suppose I could break my lease and find a cheaper apartment with a roommate, too. Even that feels like utter defeat.
I want to cry. I want to curl up in a ball and hide from the world. But what I want doesn’t matter. If it did, I wouldn’t be so damn broke.
Macie knew the minute she hit send that she shouldn’t have sent the message. Up to this point, they’d been less emotional in their notes. To the point that she knew he was holding back because she’d hurt him. If he knew she hadn’t really stood him up, he’d be less formal. But if he knew she hadn’t really stood him up, he’d know it was Macie and then shit would’ve really hit the fan. She just needed someone to talk to. And he was the obvious choice.
A red one appeared on the inbox. Macie hadn’t even realized she was staring at it.
I have a friend in a similar situation. He’s devastated by the bill. It’s hard to see him go through this, but that’s the way loans like that work. You’ll spend most of your time paying the interest without paying much on the principal. Once you’ve paid their interest rates, then you’ll slowly pay down the amount you actually borrowed. It’s like a mortgage, in a way.
It sounds like your financial planner was an idiot, too. Or he/she didn’t know anything about student loans. I’d suggest paying what you can until you can meet with a professional advisor who can help you figure out where you need to be and what you can do to get there. You can always defer payment as underemployed, but that won’t stop the interest from adding up. The short version now is to cut any expenses you can. I’d hate to see you take on another job, too. Getting ahead is hard enough with one job. I wish I could help more, but without having any details, it’s hard to give advice. Just do what you can. And remember that you’re not alone. A lot other people are getting those bills, too.
Macie sighed. That definitely sounded like know-it-all Zac. It irritated her to no end. She wasn’t about to let it go either.
You know what pisses me off. That nobody warned me. Go to college, they said. Get a degree, they said. That’s the only way to get ahead, they said. You would think a damn high school guidance counselor would tell you about things like this. But, nope. Instead, it’s the same bullshit. You have to have a degree to get ahead. But you have to pay out your ass for the rest of your life to get that degree. And you’ll never get ahead.
My mom never went to college. She made her own way the only way she knew how. She wanted more for me. She’s busted her ass her entire life waiting tables and catering to drunks. Now it looks like I’ll get to do that along with my day job. Who’s the fool here?
It makes me wonder if any of this was really worth it.
She hit send and stared at the message box, waiting for his reply. Her anger dissipated as she watched for the red one. She regretted how she wrote about her mom. It wasn’t fair. Her mother did the best she could with what she had. She supported Macie and gave her everything she needed. Macie was happy even if she never had a new car or the most fashionable clothes. She encouraged Macie to be more than a waitress. Macie wanted to make her mom proud. Instead she felt like a complete failure. The message appeared and Macie didn’t hesitate.
I wish I knew what to do to help you. Your mom sounds great. I’m willing to bet she’s proud of you for working hard to get that degree. A friend of mine waited tables and tended bar through college. First at a diner, then at a local club. It wasn’t so bad. At least, I don’t think she hated it. She often bragged about the money she made on tips. There’s no shame in it.
But maybe there’s something else you can do? I don’t know how to help since I have no idea what your degree is in or what you do for a living now. That makes it difficult since I’m pretty good with money. All I can do right now is listen. So, vent away. It won’t help, but it will clear your head enough to think.
Macie clicked reply, but she didn’t really know what to say. She did brag about the money she made working two nights a week. What a fool she’d been. All of that cash and she didn’t save enough of it. She’d stupidly listened to that school’s financial advisor and saved a meager ten percent. She read the second paragraph again. But maybe there’s something else you can do? What else was there? Most jobs in graphic design worked the same hours she already did. Anything she worked had to be outside of her regular hours. Nancy had given her the go-ahead to freelance, but Macie had no idea where to start.
The canvas caught her eye. It wasn’t finished, but suddenly she knew what it needed, how to finish it. Macie set her tablet down and headed toward the closet by the kitchen. She pulled open the door, took out a larger canvas and a smaller one. They were the last of her art supplies. Time had been tight and so had the money. The first thing she’d cut out was art.
She stripped down and got to work. With each swipe of the brush, the tension left her body. Macie painted until her arms hurt, her back screamed, and she had no other choice but to fall asleep covered in white, black, and gray. As her mind drifted into oblivion, she remembered Zac’s question and smiled. Why not sell her art?
ZAC DIDN’T HEAR BACK from his mystery girl for a few days. But Macie sent him updates about the plans. She’d pressed forward with several of their ideas. The only problem she kept encountering was money. It became clear pretty fast that Macie was living paycheck to paycheck. It was also clear that her early plans had been budget friendly. Zac hadn’t given two thoughts
about how much money they’d need to put these parties together. He should’ve, but he didn’t.
“Hey,” Dave, one of his co-workers, said from Zac’s open office door. “What’s going on with your dad? Is he coming back?”
News had broken that Sparks Investments was going public. Zac’s father had been famously missing from the press announcement. And he’d been missing from the office since then. His health hadn’t been great since the gall bladder surgery and the heart attack scare. Instead of smiling and nodding like the yes man he’d need to become, he made himself disappear. Not even Zac had seen him.
“I really don’t know,” Zac said with a shrug. “He’s been keeping to himself lately.”
“Yeah, sure.” Dave slapped the door frame twice and left.
But it was the truth. Zac had no idea if his father was done or not. He hadn’t seen him in over a week and his father told Zac that time was needed. Zac knew what that meant—leave me alone until I’m ready to talk.
His phone buzzed on his desk. Zac glanced at the name first. Macie. He’d changed it after the dinner they had together. Now that he knew why she hated Chomper, he’d do his best not to use it at all. He almost smiled. Then he read her message and couldn’t stop the grin.
Do you know anything about setting up an online store?
Zac typed back. No, but I can figure it out pretty quick. What’re you thinking?
IDK. Thinking about the options. I hate to ask, but could you come over? Or I can come to your place? I think I want to sell my artwork. Or at least try to. And you know all this financial stuff. We never got around to talking about investing and I think I need to invest in myself first. Will you help me?
Zac sat back. Macie asking for his help? Did the universe flip on its head? Or was he in an alternate dimension? She’d mentioned discussing investments before, but he didn’t bring it up when he went to her place. He’d figured she wasn’t really interested.
