Plush Book 2: A Billionaire Romance Read Online Free Page B

now, I needed the junky used car I bought back in high school. Although now that I was unemployed, it might come down to having to sell Cherry Bomb to get by. I glanced over and knew that there was no way I could ever go through with it, and now with the giant carving in the seat, it would be virtually impossible to find a buyer.
    I finished locking the bike to the carport post and then headed back to my apartment, gingerly jogging up the stairs. When I reached the front door I was panting for breath and mentally reminded myself that I now had all the time in the world to hit the gym.
    “Yeah, right,” I scoffed. I had grabbed the mail before heading upstairs, and started to sift through it as I stepped into the kitchen. One of them didn’t have a stamp and just had my name and address printed on the front. I dumped the other letters on the counter and opened that one first.
    Allison Rand,
    This letter is to inform you that if all back months of rent are not paid in full by April 24th, we will be forced to start the eviction process.
    Sincerely,
    Riverside Apartment and Condo Management Division
    “Shit, shit, shit!” I threw the letter down on the counter on top of the stack of mostly unopened mail that was piling up. I knew I was a month behind, and that it wasn’t the first time I’d gotten behind, but I’d always come through at the last minute. This time, though…I had no idea how to make that happen. I felt like crying, but no tears would come.
    I turned around and saw the glass from Cooper’s so-called miracle hangover cure and the whole scene replayed in my head. I picked up the glass and dumped all the congealed-looking liquid down the sink and slammed the cup on the counter, fighting hard to resist the urge to hurl it against the wall and watch it shatter into a thousand pieces.
     
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    The next week passed by in the blink of an eye, even though it seemed that the days themselves moved slowly. In the end, I had managed to duct tape the seat on Cherry Bomb so that I could at least go out riding. It was a good stress reliever if nothing else. In the past week, I had gone on two job interviews, but was still waiting to hear anything back on Friday afternoon.
    I was pacing around my dining room table, thinking, when the phone rang. I rushed across the kitchen to answer but stalled out when I saw my mom’s name and picture pop up on the screen. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to her, but then again, maybe she would have some motherly words of advice that could help calm my nerves.
    “Hi, Mom,” I answered, sinking down onto one of the dining table chairs.
    “Hello, sweetheart,” she chirped back and I could picture her face. “How’s life in the big city?”
    It had been a little over a year since I had moved to “the big city” from the small town in Kansas that I grew up in. It was only a few hours by plane and I knew Mom and Dad would pay for the ticket, but I hadn’t managed to make it home in quite some time. I kept meaning to, but when I worked at the coffee shop, I picked up as many shifts as I could—which meant working most every weekend and sometimes really odd hours. But listening to the smile in my mom’s voice was making me feel a little guilty about not making the time. I knew she and my dad missed me and wished that I would settle down and come home again.
    “It’s good,” I lied, fighting the urge to unpack all my current problems and cry to her. “How are you and Daddy?””
    “Oh, we’re just fine, darling. Your dad is out playing golf with some friends from church. So I’m catching up on some things here around the house and figured I would give you a call and see if I could chat with you, now that you’re not working all the time on the weekends.”
    I sighed. I didn’t want to tell her about losing the job. It would open up a whole box of questions that I didn’t have answers to, but I hated lying to my parents. It always felt like living a