Page 23 of Just Business
Justin exhaled and sorted through the mail.
Boom. Liquid nitrogen poured over his enthusiasm. Bills. Electric. Gas. And the latter in an envelope with red lettering.I thought I paid that! I could have sworn...
He pulled out his laptop and sat down. A few minutes later, he swore at the ledger on the bank website.
No. He hadn’t. Worse, rent, his credit card bill, and the money he’d sent to Mercy pretty much had emptied his account until he got paid again. Where he was going to come up with one hundred thirty-five dollars and twenty-seven cents? He had a little more than that in checking, but then there was the wholeeatingthing.
He looked at the numbers again.
Guess it was ramen and crackers for a while. Plus whatever was in his student account at CMU.
He’d gotten ahead, too. Then Mercy had called.
I need help again, Justin. And I can’t ask Mom and Dad...
His folks didn’t have anything. Only he did, or so he said. He’d sent the cash because he would not let his big sister get tossed out on her own. The woman was a goddamned hero.
Shit. Justin stood up, toppling over his chair.
He couldn’t ask Sam for a raise. They were already paying him more than the position required. He twisted his hands in his hair. Still paying for his time with Francis. Still not free of that man.
He’d extended himself after he’d left LA. Too much shit on his credit card. He knew his debt load, knew how much he needed to get out from under it, and had pared down everything he could.
Except Mercy needed him, and there was no cutting her off.
Justin picked up his chair, took three steps, and sat on the edge of his bed. Yup, Justin White. Stellar employee. Star MBA student with an eye for business and finance. Forty thousand dollars in debt because he’d been stupid and reckless and fallen for the wrong guy while his sister had been off getting blown up in Iraq.
He dropped his head into his hands. If only Don could see him now. Or Sam.
Or Eli.
***
When Monday came, it was as if Eli had never driven Justin to campus, as if they’d never spoken in his car. The brusque, snarky Justin marched into the office in the morning. He returned the umbrella but didn’t look at Eli, just muttered his thanks before slinking across the hall.
The gut-punch of emotion made Eli’s body ache. He hadn’t expected Justin to call him over the weekend. But he didn’t understand the reversal of any hint of a friendship between them. Couldn’t shake it off.
Eli closed the door to his office. Seeing Justin at his desk, hearing his laugh when he spoke to Sam, but seeing that scowl and curled lip directed at him? No. The stabbing in his chest increased until breathing hurt.
Too much to handle, especially on the heels of dealing with his parents. He’d called Dr. Brohmer on Saturday to fill her in on the flashback—it had been a long time since he’d had one this bad—and while she hadn’t insisted, she’d strongly suggested he make an appointment soon.
He’d resisted. A small thing, that episode.You’re going to be fragile for a few days, Eli. Off balance. The appointment won’t hurt.
Except they did, every time. They helped, too, but he hated the stretched, thin feeling after he’d spilled his emotions. Even if they’d been doing this for how many years?
He eyed his door. Whatever had caused Justin’s return to snarl, in all likelihood, had nothing to do with Eli. But a part of Eli felt shunned. Rejected. In his own office, by the same man who’d been kind to him, someone he’d started to think of as afriend. Banished from his community, all over again.
Eli picked up the phone, called Dr. Brohmer’s office, and made the appointment.
He kept the door shut for the rest of the morning. Just before lunch, Sam knocked and opened, but only enough to slip inside. He leaned against it, arms down, fingertips pressed against the wood. “Are you all right?”
Eli considered how to answer the question—and that act of doing so was answer enough. “Not exactly, no.”
“Friday?”
Sam knew him well enough to understand the issues with his parents, and what Samdidn’tknow, Michael did. “A bit of that, yes.”
A nod. “We’ve been worried.”
