meeting,” he says. “But you go. Enjoy. And when you’re ready to leave—”
“Use the side entrance.”
He nods, and she lies back down as he finally comes over to the bed and gives her a kiss. It’s on the lips, but it’s chaste. It makes her wonder if she’s ever going to see him again. In the first couple of months, goodbyes were so easy.
Now they’re hard.
He grabs his bag and he’s gone. She turns toward the window, looking at the pretty trees and the overcast sky, trying to enjoy her last few moments in the luxurious hotel room, which probably costs more per night than what she makes in tips in a week at the Green Bean. It’s depressing. But then her stomach rumbles, and she perks up—at least she gets breakfast out of it, and the hotel restaurant makes a mean eggs Benedict with avocado toast.
As she heads toward the bathroom, she sees the money on the dresser and stops. Derek’s left her cash, and it’s way more than what she’d need for a cab. The stack of bills is thick, all twenties and fifties. She picks it up and counts it out, and her mouth falls open.
He’s left her five thousand dollars.
He’s given her money before, of course he has. She was short on rent one month, and she mentioned it in passing, and he plucked three hundred dollar bills out of his pocket like it was spare change. She once fretted that she needed to stop by the Cash n’ Carry to see if they had any chicken, because if she got there too late, they might be out, and he shook his head in mock disgust and handed her two hundred, and told her to go to Whole Foods and stock up on organic, free-range chicken, which was much healthier.
He pays for all their hotel stays, almost all their meals; he paid for her flight to New York and the Hamilton tickets and a shopping spree at Bloomingdale’s, where he bought her a Dolce & Gabbana bag that cost twenty-two hundred dollars. Two thousand two hundred. He’d tried to convince her to choose the colorful one that she was drawn to, but ultimately common sense prevailed and she chose the one in black, knowing she might never have another bag as nice as this one and it needed to go with everything.
“Are you sure?” Kenzie had asked him, clutching his arm at the cash register while the sales consultant widened her smile to hide her smirk. She’d seen this scenario before, no doubt.
“I’m sure.” Derek handed over his credit card. “You want the flowered one, too?”
“Florals are hot right now,” the sales lady piped in, dialing up her smile by another fifty watts.
“No.” Kenzie laughed. “We’re good.”
She caught the sales consultant’s glance and read the unspoken message written all over the woman’s judgy face: Honey, don’t be an idiot. Get the floral one, too. Little did the poor woman know. All she saw was Kenzie’s pink hair and giggles, but Kenzie didn’t need another Dolce & Gabbana. She was playing the long game.
And five thousand dollars would be falling far short of the goal line. Five thousand doesn’t even cover two months of her mom’s care, and she sure as shit didn’t spend six months sleeping with a married man only to end up with a measly five thousand.
She needs to know what this means. She grabs her phone from the night stand and sends Derek a text.
Hey babe, you left something here?
He doesn’t reply. He’s probably driving, so she heads into the bathroom to pee before heading down to the restaurant. Maybe it’s just a gift. Kenzie’s been stressed about money lately—when isn’t she?—and maybe he just wants to help out.
Maybe it’s not over yet.
It’s not until she’s at the restaurant and her eggs and avocado toast have been brought to the table that he replies. She imagines he’s just pulled into the office parking lot.
It’s all for you. I didn’t want to say anything while I was there, because I knew you probably wouldn’t take it.
Ha. As if.
But fine, she can play the game. She’s going to play it off like it’s nothing, no big deal. You’re very sweet. But I’m ok! I’ll give it back to you when I see you next time.
His reply is quick. There isn’t going to be a next time, he texts. This is goodbye. I’m sorry to do it like this, but I can’t do this anymore. Thank