6

BPOV

"Mature Decisions"

"Bella, it's Charlie. Jacob called and told me what's going on, and I can't say I'm surprised. You've always been emotional—"

"Message has been marked for deletion," the robotic voice says. "Next message."

"Bella, it's Charlie, again. You need to do the right thing and call Jacob. I'm sure if you apologize, he would reconsider—"

"Message is marked for deletion. Next message."

"Hey, girl. I'm just calling to check on you. Jake is telling everyone that he fired you, but we both know that's not true. You run the store. Anyway, I'm glad you finally called him out on his shit. Call me. I'm gonna miss working with, well, for you. Bye."

"Message saved. Next message."

"Really, Bella? After everything we've done for you, you're going to let your pride get in the way of your job—"

Groaning, I hit seven and drop my phone on the counter, leaving a dozen more messages to be unheard.

Jake must have called Charlie with his version of what happened the second I walked out of his office because my phone has been blowing up all night. Naturally, he's spun the story to make

himself the victim. I can tell Charlie's been drinking because his voice gets a little more agitated and slurred with each message. When I turned my phone back on this morning, I saw he called me throughout the night, so I'm guessing he was on a bender.

Whatever. It's not my problem anymore.

My appointment isn't until ten tomorrow morning, and I'm trying to figure something to do to pass the time besides hitting ignore every time my phone rings.

Speaking of— IGNORE.

I have to do something. Reaching for my checkbook, I look to see how much money I've managed to squirrel away in my savings account. The idea was always to spend what's needed and save for emergencies and what ifs. Considering how insane the amount of money that's fallen into my lap is, the account holds pocket change. I just know it's going to be a transition, going from being frugal to being able to buy anything my heart desires.

My phone rings again, and a picture of Charlie's boat pops up. My blood boils, and before I know it, my cell hits the wall across from me and shatters into a dozen pieces, finally giving me the silence I crave.

"That's better," I mumble.

Paranoia kicks in shortly after. I don't have a house phone, so if there's an emergency, I have no way of calling for help.

With one last look at the broken pieces of my second-hand Android, I decide to treat myself.

I've never been inside an Apple store, and when I walk through the doors, I'm immediately overwhelmed by all the technology.

A cute little sprite of a girl named Jane latches herself onto me and explains the ins and outs of every product on the floor. She's a pushy salesperson and doesn't let up until I pile a brand new iPhone, iPad Pro with a pencil, and a pair of AirPod headphones on the counter, along with various cases and Apple Care, in case of an accident.

The total takes me by surprise, and I just about swallow my tongue.

"Bella?" Jane asks when I hover over the debit machine. "Did you change your mind?"

"No." I swipe my card. "I'm not used to spending this much money on myself."

She giggles and hands me my receipt. "Sometimes, it's nice to treat yourself, and you deserve the world. Don't settle for less."

I leave the store with a big smile on my face, and I'm excited to go home and play with my new stuff, but I have a few more errands to run before I can do that.

First stop, is a phone carrier to get my things activated. I splurge for unlimited cell data so I can use my new iPad whenever and wherever I want. I sign up for autopay to save ten dollars a month, and it's strange not having to worry if I'll have enough money in my account to cover the bill when it's due.

My next stop is a clothing store because I don't think holey jeans and a band tee would be appropriate to wear when claiming millions of dollars.

I haven't had much experience dressing up, so I grab a little bit of everything and hole away in a

dressing room.

It doesn't take long for me to cross dresses and skirts off my list. I've always been a tomboy, and I want to be comfortable.

I manage to find a nice pair of slacks, form-fitting with flared legs, and a deep blue blouse that makes me feel pretty. Luckily, the store sells shoes too, and I'm able to pick out a pair of flats that are the same color as the shirt without having to go elsewhere.

I don't look twice at the total, happy that I can treat myself, guilt-free.

The last stop of the day is a rental company. I let the guy talk me into upgrading from a modest sedan to a convertible. The weather has been cooperating, and it'll be nice to make the drive home with the top down. I want to look presentable for the meeting, and frizzy, windswept hair isn't presentable.

They let me park my truck on the property, and I take the Mustang home so I can get a feel for it before the drive.

By the time I get home, I'm worn out and starving. To keep up with spoiling myself, I do something rare and order in. Knowing I'll be hungry later and I can snack on the leftovers, I order enough food to feed a family of four and sit down with my new toys while I wait for it to be delivered.

It's kind of sad, entering the few numbers I care about into my phone. Aside from Jess, my primary doctor and dentist, Cora and Waylon, and McCarty's Automotive and a few restaurants, that's about it. I don't bother saving the numbers of a few stray exes and distributors for the store because I have no use for either.

Hopefully, money can buy me a life.

One of the top selling points Jane had for the iPad was the iBooks feature. I love the idea of having thousands of books at my fingertips.

I'm downloading a collection of the classics when my lunch arrives.

As the hours pass, I grow more and more nervous about tomorrow.