It was evening. Elsa was glad her night shift was over and was heading home when the manager, James, handed her a cheque. It wasn't payday yet. Why was he giving her this?
"It's from a guest from earlier," James explained, sensing her hesitation. James was in his late thirties and scratched his head as he spoke; he had received some cash from the guest and was likely obliged to hand her the cheque.
Elsa stared at the cheque: one hundred thousand dollars. She was shocked. This was a huge sum—why was a guest giving her this?
"He said you should meet him at the car park," James added, then walked away as if she wasn't important.
Elsa felt nervous. Who was the guest that had given her such a hefty cheque? The money was more than she'd ever seen from this job. Looking down at the paper in her hands, she wondered if she should refuse the massive sum.
She headed toward the car park, which was brightly lit. A luxurious black car idled there, its window rolling down. Elsa's brown eyes landed on a guy she'd served hours ago—a man she barely remembered.
As the window slid all the way down, Elsa was met with a handsome man with smooth features. His brows were thin and neat, his jaw smooth, and his dark eyes completely unreadable. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and smelled rich. One thought rang instantly in Elsa's head: refuse the money. She could see the mischievous glint of a playboy in his eyes.
"Get in," he commanded, looking right at her.
Elsa didn't like the way he spoke to her—like she was his to order around.
"Excuse me, sir. Sorry, I can't accept your money," she said plainly, extending the cheque back to him.
Jordin stared. It was a lot of money—why was she refusing? Was she playing hard to get? He could have any woman he wanted. He looked from the cheque up to her face.
"You keep it," his tone was final.
"Sorry, but I can't," Elsa said. She didn't want anything to do with someone like him. She knew his type. He'd keep coming back, expecting something in return, and she didn't have the mental energy to deal with that.
"Very well." Jordin could see she wasn't going to bend. He reached out and took the cheque from her hand.
Elsa walked away, annoyed. Jerk. He probably thought she was a slut for even considering it. She might have taken the cheque, but who knew when he'd start hitting on her?
Jordin watched her leave, quietly furious. He considered doubling the money. Maybe then she'd agree.
"Drive," he commanded the chauffeur as the car started up.
That's what ladies like her like, he thought, still annoyed. If he doubled the amount, she'd say yes. Then she'd expect more—and since he wanted her, he was completely fine with that.
Elsa was still fuming about what he'd implied—that he could get any woman he wanted. She scoffed, proud that she had declined his stupid money.
When she arrived at their apartment, Lucy was sitting in the couch of the spacious living room, watching TV. She turned to Elsa with a smile.
"Elsa, welcome back," Lucy said, her tone as cheerful as always.
"Thanks, Lucy," Elsa said casually.
"Elsa, sorry to say, but Jack told us the rent will be due in a few months."
Elsa felt completely drained. She headed to her room without answering. Lucy watched her go, assuming she was just tired from the rent news, and turned back to her show.
Elsa and Lucy both contributed to rent and groceries. Ever since moving out of the orphanage, they had fended for themselves. Being orphans, they rented a simple two-bedroom flat—unable to afford a house of their own—and worked hard for every penny just to survive.
In her room, Elsa thought about the upcoming rent payment and her plan to save for college. If she used her college fund for rent, it would be enough for now. She got paid from her jobs, but what would she do when her savings weren't enough for tuition down the line?
She pulled off her clothes and headed for the shower. For some reason, Jordin flashed into her mind. She could have accepted the cheque.
She quickly dismissed the thought. I hope I don't run into him again. I don't want to fall for his temptation.
"Why can't those rich guys just be generous?" she muttered under her breath as the warm water ran over her skin.
After her shower, Elsa slipped into her nightwear and flopped onto her bed. She checked her bank account balance on her phone. It was likely enough for rent, but it made her feel sad—she wouldn't be able to save much for college now.
Working at the bookshop covered rent and allowed her to build some savings. The club job covered rent and food. If she had taken the cheque, it would have solved everything. Rent covered. Food covered. Personal necessities covered. College covered.
What was I thinking?
"No, Elsa. Don't think that way," she chided herself out loud. Snap out of it. I can pay the rent. Yes. I can do it. His money isn't worth it.