Nessa stepped out of the elevator doors and wiped her fingers down her dress, leaving behind greasy trails of white sugar from the donuts she stole. It didn't matter what she looked like anymore. She could be wearing rags and it wouldn't make a difference.

She had been fired.

Again.

"Now, what am I going to do about paying my rent?"

An older woman with an ostentatious purple hat complete with a fake nest and bird as decor, gave her a curious glance and Nessa frowned.

What kind of a person wears a hat with a bluebird as a decoration? Rich people.

A feeling of discomfort swirled in her stomach. Being fired could be a good thing. She didn't exactly fit into the wealthy elite Luxmar served.

With its exorbitant fees, Luxmar aimed to serve people who had more money than they knew what to do with.

She knew that from the few times her parents had come over to visit. Most parents would stay with their child if they came to visit, but not hers. Her mother and stepfather insisted on staying at the Luxmar. Nessa shook her head again. Rich people.

"This place is so romantic!" a brunette woman giggled nearby. She had a nasal voice that reeked of snobbery. "I hope you're not planning on proposing, Tate. You know I want my parents there when you do."

Tate?

The name caused Nessa to turn her head in the direction of the woman speaking. Nessa's mouth fell open.

Across from the nasally brunette, sat the man who never wanted to get married, Tate Montgomery. His wore his blonde hair slicked down to one side. Tied around his shoulders, lay a blue sweater that matched his eyes. He smiled and Nessa could see his gums.

"Horse face," Nessa muttered.

After he dumped her, Nessa began noticing all of his flaws including his horse face. Before that, she found it cute. Tate and her were like peanut butter and mayonnaise-- they just didn't go together. His claim to wealth came from his parents' money. He also expected Nessa to fit into his very particular mold of what a woman dating him should be like. Fortunately, she didn't. Nessa would never forget his parting words to her.

"C'mon, Nes. You can't possibly expect us to get married. You're one of those...what shall I call you? Not a fling. You're more like an experiment. You're wild and different but you're also a flake. It was fun at first, especially how you joked about talking to ghosts, but now it's not and I deserve better."

He couldn't even tell her the time-tested "It's me and not you" break-up speech. No, he put the blame soley on her.

Today, he looked like a pretentious jerk. Him and the brunette were probably laughing about being rich and having stable jobs and staying at places like the Luxmar while wearing couple sweaters tied around their shoulders.

In all honesty, what's the point in wearing a sweater around your shoulders? Either put it on or take it off!

The unsettling thought that perhaps he told the skinny brunette about her and her ghosties made her frown. They'd been one another's first love. Well, she'd been his first fake love.

Tate pulled the woman close and kissed her cheek. Nessa's eyes widened. Since when did he show public displays of affection? He never did that with her. He always told her he didn't believe in PDA.

Tiny tremors of fury were beginning to boil inside her. Nessa wanted to scream. She wanted to cause a scene and embarrass Tate with his girlfriend who giggled like she had something lodged in her throat. She wanted to point at him and tell everyone he had a small--

"Nessa?" Gloria's voice cut into her thoughts.

Nessa turned to see Knox's had secretary staying back at her. "Gloria?"

"Mr. Marsden asked that I ensure your departure."

"Is that so?" Nessa's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I know it was harsh of him to fire you so quickly but don't feel bad. He fires most new girls quickly. We're hoping if we get an intern, he'll be nicer."

"I doubt it," Nessa muttered, remembering his fury when she had accidentally pulled his sweatpants down years ago. Her head began to pound.

"What do you want now?" Nessa muttered.

"I'm sorry?" Gloria gave her a confused expression.

Ignoring her Ghosties was impossible. Nessa sighed. "Do you mind giving him one last message from me?"

"I don't know, he really--"

"C'mon, it's not that big of a deal," Nessa insisted, jotting down a quick note on a scrap of paper she found in her purse. "Make sure he knows it's from me and if he already forgot who I am, tell him I'm the temporary secretary he fired who's allegedly in cahoots with his ex."

Gloria took the note and nodded wearing an expression of wariness.

"So let me get this straight." Candi leaned forward, a cup of iced tea between her hands. "You were fired because of a napkin? Not because you stole someone's lunch, accused a janitor of stealing staples, or for wishing your boss to fall down the stairs during a fire drill, but a napkin?"

"I told you her falling down the stairs wasn't my fault! Why doesn't anyone believe me?" Nessa lowered her head into her arms and groaned. "This day has been horrible. He's such a jerk. You have no idea. He said I'm in cahoots with his ex-girlfriend. He's such an arrogant ass. How am I supposed to pay my rent now?"

Candi laughed, tossing back a pink lock of her hair.

"And who even says the word cahoots?" Nessa sat up. "He might as well grow one of those creepy mustaches and twirl it between his fingers."

She sat up and pretended to twirl an imaginary mustache, causing Candi to giggle.

"I'm so screwed." Nessa flopped her head back on the counter.

"You wish," Candi joked before clearing her throat. "I can lend you the money--"

"No way. I already owe you too much. I need to get a job."

"There's always your parents," Candi reminded her.

Nessa's shoulders drooped. "I'd rather face the homeless people again. They couldn't have meant what they said last time, right? How is it possible for someone to be too loud if we're outside?"

"Nessa, your parents will help you if you ask."

"That's what you think. My mom does whatever my step-father tells her to and he'll demand that I come back home. He's not my real father but he sure does like to pull these power trips."

"You sound like one of those spoiled rich kids we see on TV. Just suck it up, put on your big girl boots, and ask them for money. Tell them you'll pay them back with interest."

Nessa frowned. "You don't understand. They won't help me. They'll just go on and on about how I'm a failure that flunked out of college and that I should go home and get therapy because of how I claim to talk to my Ghosties. Candi, do you know what it's like to have your own mother think you're a freak? Only my grandmother believed me."

"Have you ever thought of just pretending not to see your Ghosties?" Candi suggested.

"And deny who I am?" Nessa countered. "Not a chance. I want them to accept me for me. Freakiness and all."

"Well, if you won't let me lend you the money and you don't want to ask your parents for the money, there's only one solution." Candi took a sip of her tea while Nessa waited with bated breath for her friend to give her a solution.

"Well?" Nessa urged her.

"You're not going to like it," Candi warned her.

"You want me to hook? I told you before, Candi. That's a hard no."

Candi rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm not asking you to be a hooker. I just so happen to have a regular customer who asked if I needed a part time gig Saturday. I told him I didn't but I knew someone who did. He's loaded and will pay a ton."

"You're such a good friend!" Nessa's smile evaporated into suspicion, "Wait. Is this to do something illegal?"

"Define illegal," Candi said.

"Candi!"

"I'm kidding!" Candi launched into a peel of laughter. "You should've seen your face! What did you think I was talking about? Murder? Selling drugs? I'd never encourage you to do something so crazy"

"Well, I recall a time you sent me to a strip club, remember?" Nessa leaned back, arms crossed.

"I sent you there to work as a bartender not to actually get on stage. You're the one who made the mistake," Candi reminded her.

"I couldn't do it." Nessa cringed. "I ran out of there as fast as I could."

"Well, this job is at some ritzy country club."

"Is it a catering job?" Nessa asked. She had worked as part of a catering crew more times than she could remember.

"Not exactly..."

"Just tell me," Nessa insisted.

Candi smirked. "I will, but first answer me this. How do you feel about dinosaurs?"