“Total comes to…three hundred and sixty-seven dollars and fifty cents.”

My hands shook as I took it from him, pressing my lips together in a thin line to keep myself from screaming.

I handed my credit card over to him numbly, trying not to think of how the hell I was going to come up with that money. I squeezed my eyes shut as I heard him swipe the card.

“Uh, ma’am?”

I opened my eyes to find Randy looking distinctly awkward. My heart sank as I saw the angry capital letters glow from the credit card reader.

DECLINED

Heat rushed into my face as if I’d been slapped. Without looking at him, I mumbled something about contacting my bank and dialed the numbers, pressing the phone to my burning face.

“Hello and thank you for contacting Fargo West, my name is Melissa, how may I assist you?”

I gave her my account information and waited with crossed fingers, praying to every god I knew that she would raise the credit limit.

The unsympathetic voice on the other end told me what I already knew. “According to my records, you were granted two extensions already last month. I cannot give you a third, especially when your account has been delinquent. I’m sorry.”

I never felt so ashamed in my life.

There were several customers waiting behind me and they could hear every words of my conversation. My eyes were raw with unshed tears as I hung up the phone and turned to face Randy, who had a look of mingled annoyance and pity.

“I can’t pay it,” I said in the smallest voice.

His hand closed over my car keys. “Then you can’t take your car. I’m sorry.”

Anger rippled through me until I looked at his tired face. He was just trying to run a business. This was my fault; I ruined my credit and was unwilling to take a shitty job to make ends meet.

I felt like a beaten dog when I asked him to detach my apartment keys. I walked out of there and began the three-mile walk back to the soup kitchen. Maybe I could ask someone there for a ride home.

My phone buzzed with a text message from Natalie: Are you ok?

In the midst of tapping out a reply, I stopped. The last thing I wanted to do was burden her with another one of my many problems. She’d drop everything, rush over to pick me up, and pay for my car. It wasn’t fair to her. I wasn’t going to be dependent on her anymore.

The first thing I would do when I got home was fill out one of those sugarbaby profiles. I needed a lot of cash and I needed it now. When I got some, I would pay the mechanic, then Natalie, and then make a credit card payment.

By the time I reached the kitchen, the load on my mind lessened somewhat. Sure, everything was in shambles but at least I knew how to fix it. My mind was strangely clear. I knew what I had to do and I was determined to get it. My life depended on it.

I found Shelly walking towards her car in the parking lot, and I jogged up to her.

“Jessica! I thought you’d left!”

“Hey! Thank God you’re still here. I could really use a lift, if you don’t mind.”

“What happened? Did your car get stolen?”

“No, nothing like that.” I hesitated as I looked at Shelly’s round anxious face. I didn’t want to tell her the truth. “My car broke down, and the stupid auto shop doesn’t have a courtesy shuttle.”

She waved me in. “Yeah, of course!”

“Thanks so much.”

I made small talk with Shelly as she drove me home. She told me how much everyone had loved the meal today. I nodded and forced a smile on my face. Suspecting one of the homeless smashed in my windshield dampened my feelings towards them.

“See you next week!”

I waved as she drove off, and my hands trembled with the keys as I entered my apartment. Natalie would be waiting and would want an explanation. The sound of the shower running made me sigh in relief. At least I could avoid her for a few more minutes. I ducked into my room quickly and closed the door.

My stomach growled with hunger, but I ignored it. This was so much more important. The monitor lit up, and the sugarbaby website filled up the screen as though it waited for me.

After I completed the registration, I paused over the username and weighed using a fake name. I decided to use my first name. Hell, there were so many Jessicas out there, what did it matter? I entered my height and body type. Then I realized I would need a profile picture, and it needed to be good. I grabbed a black cocktail dress from Natalie’s closet and peeked into the hallway. The bathroom door was open. I rushed inside, closed the door, and looked into the foggy mirror.

I was a mess.

My blonde hair looked like a bird’s nest. I attacked it with my brush, bemoaning the split ends that I found.

I wasn’t ready for this, and couldn’t remember the last time I dressed up. I lined my makeup on the sink like toy soldiers. These billionaires probably only cared about having a hot chick dangling on their arm.

Did I think I was hot?

Not really. But with the right makeup, anyone can be.

All the tangles teased out of my hair made a noticeable improvement, but it still looked dry. I squirted some of that hair moisturizer in my hands, then tousled my hair to make it shine. I debated whether I should straighten my hair, and decided not to. I didn’t want to look too polished, and yet I wanted to stand out from all the blonde Barbie dolls listed on the website. I did my mascara and eyeliner in black. My cheeks were flushed with cold and the last thing was lipstick. I chose a red lip gloss and smacked my lips.

A pretty, slight blonde woman looked back at me with a bit of fear. The girl in the mirror didn’t look like me. I touched my face and felt something like surprise stirring my heart.

I walked out of the bathroom smiling, and bumped into Natalie.

“There you are! I was getting worried.” She paused in the midst of talking and looked at me. “Wow, are you going out on a date or something?”

She knew I didn’t really date. If I was a sensitive person, I would have felt a bit offended by the shock on her face. “No, I’m not going on a date. Can you take a picture of me?”

“Sure,” she smirked. “Are you doing an online dating thing?”

I faltered as she dashed inside her room to get her camera, and wondered why she was so excited. “Uh—sorta.”

“Well, I think that’s great,” she gushed. “It’s about time you started dating.”

My insides squirmed at not revealing the whole truth. I would tell her soon enough, but I didn’t think she would approve. “It needs to be really flattering.”