Once Upon a Date - Susan Hatler Page 0,35

is . . . I need another grand.”

“Another thousand dollars? Are you insane? Phillip, I’m going to go now before I say something I’ll regret. I have my own problems to deal with and quite frankly, I have no headspace left for yours.”

I could almost see his mouth drop open as I hung up the phone.

****

I read long into the night and woke up with a page of my manuscript sticking to my cheek. Missy had left me a sweet note on the table telling me to call her if I needed to talk, that Brooks was obviously an idiot and that I was better off without him.

I smiled, appreciating Missy’s support, even though Brooks was one of the smartest people I knew, which is one of the reasons his feedback on my novel stung so much. I headed to the bathroom for a shower. Rather than sit in the apartment and mope alone, I decided to take a walk to clear my head, and found myself following the delicious scent of freshly ground coffee.

“Hey, Michelle, how’s it going?” Courtney asked.

“Could be better,” I said, which was an understatement. Not only had I lost the love of my life, had been rejected by Prince & Company (again), but Phillip called and our conversation went exactly the same way as always. It felt like the worst kind of Groundhog Day. “May I have my usual, please?”

She glanced at me over the top of her coffee machine. “What happened now?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” I lied, because I didn’t want to ruin her morning. “How are you doing today?”

A gold-sequined sun sat on the front of her bright blue t-shirt. “I’m fabulous. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining, and life is good.”

I shook my head. “If you say so.”

She added foam to my coffee, before putting on the lid and setting it down in front of me. She waved her hand as I attempted to pay. “It’s on the house. You look like you could use it.”

I smiled, which took every ounce of effort. “Thanks, Courtney.”

“Woop woop, that’s better!” Courtney hated seeing anyone being down, especially her friends. “Enough of the polite talk. What’s on your mind, Michelle?”

I sighed. “Where do I start?”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the small counter top. “Well, why not start at your most recent problem and work backwards?”

I took a sip of hot coffee and closed my eyes for a moment. “Okay, most recent problem is Phillip . . .”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t say a word.

“I told you I have to find nine grand to pay his back rent, right? Well, he called me last night and said he needed another thousand. I don’t know what to do.”

“Why is this your problem?” Courtney wrapped up a brownie in a napkin and handed it to me. She was another feeder. “Life is short . . . way too short to be bailing out a grown man who wouldn’t know responsibility if it hit him between the eyes. But the real problem is . . .?”

I blinked and checked behind me since she continued to stare. “The real problem? What do you mean?”

She wriggled her index finger around in the air before pointing it firmly in my direction. “The problem is you, my dear. Sorry, I mean that in the kindest possible way.”

My eyebrows rose. “What have I done, except bail him out time after time?”

“You love him, I get that. But you’re enabling him to overspend. Stop helping him out. Stop paying his debts. And stop letting him walk all over you. When the bank runs dry, he’ll have to stop overspending, especially since good ole sis isn’t there to pick up the pieces.”

“Stop helping him out?” I asked, considering what would be the result of that as I took a tiny bite of brownie, and then a second bite immediately following. Courtney’s pastries were from Bernie’s Bakery in East Sacramento and majorly delicious. “I co-signed the lease on his apartment. I’m liable for the rent if he doesn’t pay it.”

She leaned toward me. “Yes, but just the threat of you not paying might spur him into action. Tell him you’re going to seek legal advice about getting your name taken off the agreement, or that you’re going to move overseas . . . anything to make him sit up and take notice.”

“Maybe I could move overseas,” I said, pondering where I’d go. “I could hide in the Maldives for awhile. I hear it’s