Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
See? It’s practically glittering with good news in Penny Land.
Fortifying myself with a deep breath, I list out, “Mission one, take pictures of this bland, boring eternity band of a ring and post them.” I curl my lip toward the gorgeous ring I’ve made, wishing I’d had the time to create the cluster effect I’d first imagined. But time isn’t on my side, so I went with a surefire seller. Pink eternity band? It’s perfect as a push present for a girl mom, or as an anniversary band. The options are endless and buyers nearly countless, which is good for my money situation but bad for my creative muse. Sacrifices must be made, though, and I promised my muse that she’ll get to play after I pay off this bill. “Two, make a run to the post office before the noon pickup. Three, get ready for tonight’s game. Aaaand break.” I clap my hands like we’ve completed our daily huddle and force another smile. This one is at least real, because I like a plan. It makes me feel like I’ve got goals and can achieve them step-by-step.
“Good luck,” Talia says warily, taking a sip and settling a little deeper into her nest. Guess I know what she’s doing today.
I kinda wish I could plop onto the couch beside her and binge-watch Drag Race, but I don’t have the luxury of time the way she does because she didn’t screw up by losing the biggest investment she’s ever made and then follow it up by screwing her brother’s best friend.
That’d be me. Way to go, Penny!
I slip the two small boxes I’m shipping out into a ridiculously oversize tote bag, then slide the straps onto my shoulder. Gripping the bag tightly, I scan the parking lot before getting out of my car. Am I overly paranoid my precious cargo might be stolen right out of my hands? Yes. But that doesn’t mean I’ve gone full tinfoil hat. In fact, I think it’s a perfectly logical response after it quite literally happened.
I keep my head on a swivel walking across the lot, looking for thieves in red hoodies, along with anyone else suspicious. Thankfully, I only see other people like me, trying to make it before the noon pickup.
Inside, I check my PO box first. I don’t get a lot of snail mail since most of my business is conducted online, but there seems to always be a stack of junk mail and catalogs I never subscribed to, so I like to keep it cleared out. I shove all the randomness into my bag, keeping my shipping boxes where I can obsessively confirm they’re still there every two-point-three seconds. And yes, I’m counting.
One-and-a, two-and-a, check. One-and-a, two-and-a, check.
Getting in line to ship my packages, I start going through the envelopes while keeping my bag clutched to my front. I’ve got a nifty sorting system happening, with the stuff to be opened to the back of the boxes and the stuff already opened to the front.
Slowly, I one-step my way closer to the front of the line.
Until, nose down in my bag, I start to hear grumbles of annoyance in front of me. “Back of the line, buddy!”
I glance up to see what the fuss is about and quickly jerk my face back down to my bag.
It can’t be. There’s no way they’re here.
It’s the two guys Griffin said were following me. What are the chances they’re at the post office on a Saturday at noon? Since they have no envelopes or boxes in their hands, slim to none.
“One second. I have a question,” one of the guys barks at the woman I’m guessing told him to wait in line like everyone else is doing.
“And I need to mail this before my morning MiraLAX kicks in. Back of the line,” she says, not conceding an inch.
My heart starts racing in my chest as fear trickles through my veins. I really thought Griffin was overreacting and it truly was a coincidence that those guys had been at Yesteryear and then near Johnny K’s. It’s a big city, but also people tend to stick to the relatively small portion that’s closest to their homes. Or at least I do, and I figure that’s the same for most people. Plus, we didn’t see them go into Johnny K’s. They might’ve been shopping at any number of stores on that block, or live in one of the apartments above the stores, or been out for a stroll to take advantage of the good weather. Any number of possibilities that have nothing to do with Griffin’s bad feeling about them.
But a third appearance? Is that beyond the scope of coincidental? It feels like it might be.
Keeping my face down, I peek through my hair, and see that one guy is talking to Ms. MiraLAX. The other guy is talking to the post office clerk. “I need to find out the home address of someone who has a PO box here. How do I do that?”