I grab my phone again.
Me: Did you seriously order me breakfast?
Thomas: Of course. Peanuts can’t be your entire food group.
I can’t help but laugh.
Me: You’re ridiculous. Also… thank you. You didn’t have to do all this.
Thomas: Didn’t have to. Wanted to. Eat something. Drink coffee. And call out of work. You deserve a break.
A break. Yeah, that’d be nice.
But my job?
I scroll through my contacts and call the office. After a few rings, Dana picks up.
“Calloway Financial, this is Dana,” she says with her usual snippy tone.
“Hi, Dana. It’s Poppy. I, I’m not feeling well. I’m going to have to call out today.”
A long pause, then a huff. “Seriously? It’s Friday. People always call out on Fridays.”
“I’ve worked here for four and a half years. I’venevercalled out.”
“Well, I guess even the golden girl gets sick.” She hangs up without another word.
I toss my phone onto the bed with a sigh.
I need a plan. Not just for today, for everything. My job. My living situation. My future. But that can wait a little longer.
An hour later, my phone buzzes again. It’s Thomas.
Thomas: By the way, you’re not expected to check out until Monday. Room’s yours for the weekend.
I stare at the screen. Four nights in this place?
How the hell am I supposed to pay him back?
I don’t know yet, but I swear I will.
For now, I curl up again and let the comfort of the bed swallow me whole. I nap hard. The kind of nap that leaves creases on your face and rearranges your soul.
When I wake up, I actually feel… okay. Not great, but okay.
Until there’s another knock at the door.
I peek through the peephole again, no person this time. Just… bags.
Lots of them.
I open the door cautiously and glance both ways down the hall. Empty. I pull the bags inside and set them on the bed.
They’re heavy. Designer logos. Boutique names.
I open the first one and gasp.
Panties. Bras. Soft, lacy, comfortable. Then leggings. Tank tops. Jeans. Cute, soft shirts. A couple of stylish outfits that look like they belong on a Pinterest board. Shoes, flats, sneakers, heels.