Page 3 of Little Sunshine

The way history loved to repeat itself.

“Veronica.”

And there it is.

Veronica Rogers.

Con-woman.

Narcissist.

Professional hot mess.

And my mother—though I was forbidden from calling her that. The fact we didn’t share a last name made it all the easier for her to pretend she wasn’t old enough to have an adult daughter.

Not until she needed something.

“She came by when you were on break,” he continued. “Steve was here, and we had guests in the lobby when she made a scene.”

Of course, she did. And of course, she did it while the general manager was here.

I didn’t ask why he hadn’t said anything when I’d clocked back in earlier. Why he hadn’t sent someone to come get me since they all knew where I took my break. Why he hadn’t given me the chance to talk to Steve or fix things.

Because there was no fixing it. I’d already received that warning.

“That’s not my fault,” I tried anyway, but even I heard the resignation in my tone.

Although I had nothing to do with the chaos she caused, my mother was more drama than I was worth.

Story of my damn life.

“My hands are tied,” Todd said. “This came from Steve.”

It wasn’t like cleaning a scuzzy, outdated hotel was my dream job. I could happily live without the smell of mold, dust, and body odor that hung in the air and clung to the walls and furniture.

I couldn’t, however, happily live without food. And food cost money.

As did my shitty apartment, electricity, and basically everything else in life.

Dejected, I bit back the load of insults I wanted to spew and focused on the important thing. “Can I get my check, at least?”

“We’ll mail your final one in two weeks.”

“What about today’s?”

But, again, I already knew. Dread filled me, tightening my chest until I thought I was dying.

No lie.

Twenty years old, and I was having a heart attack.

The ache it caused behind my sternum stole my breath.

My fears were confirmed when Todd said, “Steve gave it to your mother.”

“That’s illegal,” I pointed out, not that it mattered.

The Roulette Hotel was lax with health codes, business practices, and labor laws. Handing over a paycheck to an unauthorized person was small fries.

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