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I guess that’s what bored millionaires do for fun.

Luckily, our paths don’t cross often. Even though my best friend, Lana, is married to Dax’s brother, it’s rare for Dax and me to run into each other.

The last time I saw Dax was at Lana’s wedding. He spent the entire night either flirting or making comments to infuriate me. One would think he’d show some restraint at his own brother’s wedding, but no. It’s no wonder he’s always in the tabloids with one woman or another. He can’t even stop flirting when a woman has made it clear she has no interest in him.

I had hoped that Lana’s wedding would be the last time we’d be in the same room together. Yet here we are. Running into each other again.

He got under my skin today. I wouldn’t have normally let someone like that get to me, but my emotions are running unusually high right now. I’ve been having to deal with my ex-fiancé. In the three days since I broke up with him, things have gotten progressively worse. The first day, he called me relentlessly. After I stopped answering the phone, he began texting me. The first few texts were okay. He just pleaded with me to take him back. However, the last text exchange didn’t go so well.

Anthony:

Please, I love you, sweetie. Give me another chance. I’ll do whatever you want me to do to prove I’m sorry. Come back home.

We’re not getting back together. Ever. I’m sending a friend to get some of my clothes tomorrow.

You’re being very unreasonable and stubborn. I love you. You love me. Stop this nonsense. It was a one-time thing. She is nothing to me. You’re going to throw our entire relationship away over this?

Once a cheater, always a cheater. Please stop contacting me. I won’t change my mind.

Fine. If you aren’t willing to talk, then I’m not willing to make any mortgage payments. If you don’t want to default on the loan, you better take care of it. Good fucking luck with that.

When I received that last text, I almost got sick right there on the street. If he doesn’t make the mortgage payments, we’ll be in default, and the bank will take the condo. I’ll lose the eighty thousand dollars I put into the down payment. The majority of that money was left to me by my grandmother when she passed away last year. I put my entire savings into that condo.

Even though I make a decent living with my photography business and can afford the mortgage myself, I can’t afford the mortgage at the condo and pay rent someplace else while I wait for his cheating ass to move out of my place. The only thing I can do is sell. And that’s if I can get Anthony to agree to sell, which is doubtful.

And even if he agrees to sell, I’ll still lose all of my money. After realtor fees, we’ll be lucky to get out without owing additional money.

What am I going to do?

How could I be so irresponsible? So stupidly trusting?

Defeat weighs heavily on me as I make my way to the subway. I’m glad the subway is fast because I have to go to Brooklyn. Manhattan hotels are expensive, and apparently, I’m broke.

I’ve worked so hard to get to this point in my life. In the early years of my business, I scrimped and saved and sometimes only ate noodles or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to be able to afford the necessary camera equipment. But I made it. I built up a business that sustained me financially, even if I had to live somewhat frugally during down months. I finally had everything I needed to live a comfortable life, and now I feel like it’s all been ripped away due to one stupid mistake.

One stupid, humongous, life-altering, idiotic mistake.

And that mistake has left me with exactly $7,455.09 in my bank account. I’m currently working on a freelance contract that will bring in some decent money, but once that contract is over, I have nothing on the books for a while. I could probably manage a couple of mortgage payments, but a hotel charge on top of that? It’s going to be rough.

I spent most of the morning applying for jobs, but entry-level jobs don’t pay nearly enough. Even if I took two jobs, I’d probably be short of what I need. My only experience is as a photographer, and no one is hiring for that.

I stop short of asking what else could go wrong. There’s no need to put those kinds of thoughts out into the universe. Apparently, the universe hates me right now.

Lana has been calling me, but I’ve been ignoring her calls. I know she’s worried about me. She’s offered to help me with a loan, but I’m determined to figure out this mess on my own. I got myself into it. I’ll get myself out. Anyway, there’s no way I would ever take a loan from a friend, even if her husband is loaded.

The subway train begins to slow, so I gather up my belongings. Once we come to a stop, I push my way through the throng of people to get to the stairs leading to the street. I notice the sun is beginning to set, so I quicken my pace. I want to get to my hotel before it gets too dark. The neighborhood is fairly safe, but I don’t like to be out here alone once the sidewalks start emptying.

My stomach is rumbling, reminding me I still need to pick up some dinner on the way. I haven’t had much time or inclination to eat today, so my hunger is catching up.

I’m opening the door to a sandwich shop when my phone rings. Instinctively thinking it’s Lana again, I pull my phone to answer it.

Except it’s not Lana. It’s an unknown number.

Usually, I wouldn’t answer it. It’s probably a scam call or someone trying to sell me something. However, I’ve applied for several jobs and don’t want to risk missing an important call for an interview.

I cautiously tap the screen to answer the call.

“Hello?”