'Life is about taking chances, trying new things, having fun, making mistakes, and learning from it.'

"That'll be ten dollars," the bartender said as he placed one drink in front of me, and saving me from Ian's taunting, glaring eyes.

I felt relieved the bartender came over with my drink when he did, but then I made a mistake when I looked away from Ian and to the bartender saying, "Oh, I thought I asked for two of those drinks." Mentally facepalming.

"I'm sorry. I only heard you ask for one. I'll make you another."

Crap. What was I thinking? I should have just paid for the drink and took off to find Skye. But no. I had to be an idiot and say I asked for two.

Ian stepped closer to me. And I slid over a few steps, hoping he'd get the hint. But instead, his hand rested in between my shoulders-causing me to cringe. And the next thing I felt was the room becoming smaller.

I'm in trouble.

"What's the matter, Tawny? Are you afraid I'll have you arrested for not paying your debt?"

I snapped my head his way. "Please." I hissed. "You have more money than you know what to do with. I'm sure what I owe you, in which I still don't believe I owe, hasn't even made a dent in your pocketbook." I turned towards him, furrowing my brows and pointing my finger at him. "You know what I think? I think you get off on people who have no money. And you live to torture the unfortunate, forcing them to give you money you know they don't have. If you had any decency, you and your attorney would have dropped the charges or at least come up with a fair amount to teach me a lesson. But no. You had to be a jerk about everything. There's no way that car or your medical bills were that much damn money."

His sly, evil grin had me wanting to deck him right square in his handsome face. "I like torturing, but not the unfortunate."

"Ugh!" I quickly turned to face the bartender and tapped my fingers on the bar like I was angrily playing the piano. Hurry and finish making my drink so I can get away from this buffoon.

The bartender placed the other drink in front of me, and then he handed Ian a drink as well. Ian jutted his chin at the two glasses in front of me. "I've got those, Arnie."

"I don't think so," I groaned, handing the bartender twenty-five dollars.

Ian extended his hand, stopping the bartender from taking my money. "Don't take her money, Arnie. Tawny's money is no good here."

"Excuse me?!" I squealed, raising my voice while feeling the blood flowing through my veins boiling. "Do you think my money is fake? That I printed this money before coming here?"

He shrugged, smirking as he lifted his glass to his mouth. "Most likely. You said it yourself you're broke," he argued. He took a sip, then said, "Besides. If you had any money, you'd be making payments." He looked at the bartender and snapped his wrist, shooing this Arnie guy away.

"Whatever..." I hissed, picking up the two little red solo cups. "I'd say thank you for the drinks. But, you're not even owed that much from me. So, on that note, have a shitty rest of your life, asshole," I snipped. "I've got to get back to my friend before she thinks I ditched her."

I made it a few steps away from the bar before I felt a hand rest on my shoulder, stopping me from walking. The next thing I felt was the heat of his breath fanning my ear as he spoke. "Not so fast, lady. You owe me at least a dance for saving you from that guy. Plus, we need to discuss the money you still owe me."

"There's nothing to discuss. You'll get another payment as soon as I get another check. And as for that dance? You can kiss my ass. I didn't come out tonight to get harassed; I came out to have fun," I warned. Then something Skye mentioned came to mind. And it was if anyone were to harass us while inside the club, they'll be asked to leave or even kicked out for life.

With my eyes scanning the room, I slowly spun around until I faced the grinning jerk. "Looking for someone?"

"Yeah. A bouncer, or maybe even someone who works security around here. You're harassing me, and I need something done about it."

The prick's face filled with hilarity, and then his full lips curved upward, happily saying. "They'd never kick me out..." He cupped my chin, holding it firmly as he looked into my eyes. "How about we make a deal? You continue with having your little fun tonight, as long as my little dominatrix doesn't find another man to run off with. If I see a man walk you off to a private room here, you best believe I'll put a stop to it right quick... You're mine, sugar lips."

"You don't own me," I snapped. "And don't call me sugar lips."

He chuckled. "That's what you think. Until you find a way to pay off your million and a half dollar debt, you're mine. All mine..." he clearly warned.

I swallowed hard. What's wrong with this guy? Is he delusional?

"There you are!" Skye yelled from behind Ian. "I've been looking all over for you!" She looked at Ian and yelled while trying to shove him away from me, "Get your hands off my friend before I have you escorted out of the building!"

Ian lowered his hand, stepped back, and chuckled as he pointed at me. "It's like Sting said in one of his songs, every breath you take, every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you. And don't you ever think I won't be."

"Who was that?" Skye asked as she watched him walk away.

I handed her a drink, sighing. "That's the asshole who claims I'm the one who caused the accident that totaled both of our vehicles. The same guy I owe all that ridiculous amount of money to."

Skye's eyes widened. "Him? That's the guy? Wow, Tawny! He's fucking hot!"

He sure is, but his good looks don't do him any justice.

"Hot in the head, yes. The asshole you think is "hot" just gave me a warning that he'll be making my life a living hell until I pay what I owe."

"I have an idea," Skye said as we started heading down the stairs. "Why don't you ask to meet with him? To see if there's another way you can pay off this massive debt? ... you know what I think you should do?"

"I'm afraid to hear what you think." She'll probably tell me I should sleep with the asshole.

"Too bad. You're going to hear it from me, anyway."

"I'm not sleeping with him. The only deal I'll make with him is if Ian allows me to continue making payments as I have been. Or I could beg him to ask his attorneys to lower what I owe. Something a bit more reasonable. Because what I remember is, when I was switching lanes, I saw him moving at the same time as me, and he was looking down at the phone he had in his hand. The accident was his damn fault. Not mine."

"Well, whatever. If I were you and I was in your situation. I'd give that guy as many blowjobs as it'd take for him to say, okay, we're good now, your debt is officially paid off."

Of course she would. She's a nymphomaniac.

"Only you would operate that way. So I guess the only thing I can do at this point. Is to go out and find an attorney who'll take on my case, and that'll allow me to make payments for representing me or maybe even see if he'll take my case pro bono. I've got a good case, Skye, and Ian knows it. I'm pretty sure he paid off the judge to have him say it was my fault, just to hurt me."

Skye set down her drink, and with a giant smirk on her face, she motioned her hand towards her mouth like she was giving someone a blowjob. "It's a way to a man's heart. And I'll bet you anything; if you were to satisfy him in that way, he'll go to the court and make sure all charges are dropped."

I like my idea better...

******

When I got home last night, my father was passed out cold on the couch. So, even though I was two sheets to the wind and wobbly, like I wished to be, I took that golden opportunity to search his room again. Only this time, I acted like I was part of the FBI doing a raid and tore his entire room apart, looking for all of his hidden stashes.

And, of course, I found many.

In the back of my mind, I knew I'd find what I was looking for. But all the same, it still hurt. And because of that, I sat on his bed, my face in my hands, crying like a baby. I wish I could say my tears were alcohol-induced, but nope, that wasn't the case at all-it was because of what I found and how I wish my mother were still around.

So, when I finally calmed down and got my head together, I stayed up late, searching the internet for a decent-paying job. And during my search, one job, in particular, caught my eye. Since the job listing had been posted on Facebook for over a month, my drunk ass not only called and left a message at four in the morning to see if the job was still available, my desperate unemployed ass sent them an email begging that they hire me.

I'm pretty sure whoever listens to or reads my message will know I had been drinking. So either that person will find humor in my message and call me back, telling me I have a job, or they'll delete my messages and wait for a sober person to call or email, asking for the job.

Sighing, I rolled to my side, then stared at my phone as if it would magically float over to me. Then, with my head pounding like a jackhammer trying to bust through concrete, I reached for my phone, silently praying for the resort I drunkenly called and emailed, had gotten back to me.

Someone from the resort never contacted me, but someone with an unknown number did. And it's from the one person I never wanted to hear from. Ian...

Ian: How's my little poxy dominatrix feeling this fine, beautiful morning? Hopefully well enough to give that hangover some well-needed caffeine. How about you meet me at Misfit coffee and bar, that way we can finish our talk from last night?

Poxy? Me? And caffeine? With him? Hell No!

I shouldn't even respond to this message, but if I don't, I have a strong feeling he'll continue sending me messages throughout the day, hoping to get me to cave to him.

Me: You don't even know me, so you've got a lot of nerve saying I'm worthless. And for the record, I'm NOT and will NEVER be your dominatrix. So, if I EVER see you again, I'll make sure to bend over to make it easier for you to kiss my ass.

Ian: Are you saying that's a no to meeting me for a much-needed coffee?

Me: That's exactly what I'm saying. I have better things to do than to meet with someone who only cares about himself. So please do me a favor and lose my number.

Ian: The day I lose your number will be the day your balance is paid off. If you need a job, the club you were at last night is hiring. I'm sure I can put in a good word for you.

Me: No thanks. I've got a job lined up.

I hope.

Me: Plus, I wouldn't even dare work at a place like that. Nor would I ever take a job you're asking me to take.

Ian: I'm not asking. I'm telling. The pay is excellent, and I know you'd fit in just fine there. Besides, you could use some good disciplining-a good spanking for totaling my car.

Ugh! What is wrong with this guy?

Me: You're making my headache worse. I'm going to say this again. Lose my number, asshole. Goodbye!

I threw my phone on the other side of me, then held my fist over my cellphone, angrily giving Ian the bird, wishing he could see exactly how I think of him.

My phone continued making noises, alerting me Ian wasn't finished with our conversation. So instead of looking to see what else he had to say, I sent him a message instead.

Me: Since you're refusing to get the hint that I don't want to talk to you, have coffee with you, or be your little dominatrix. Maybe now you'll get the hint because after I send this message. I'm blocking your number. Find someone else to bug. Bye!

While blocking Ian's number, my phone alerted me that an email came in. Seeing it was the resort replying to my message, my hands got clammy and shaky as my nerves kicked into high gear, and my beating heart gained speed-leaving a bruise as it pounded hard against my chest.

I don't know why I'm nervous about opening the email. The worse the resort can say, the position has been filled, and they forgot to remove the job post. But hearing my father pound on my bedroom door while yelling my name and asking why I did him wrong had my pointer finger thinking for me, and it tapped on the email icon, opening it.

Dear Tawny,

Thank you for contacting us via voicemail and email about your interest in working at The Paradise Inn Resort. We've had numerous applicants this week for the position you're seeking.

Unfortunately, all applicants were interviewed this morning, and I'll be deciding on hiring one of those interviewees later this afternoon.

However, your desperation to work for us piqued my interest. With that said, I'll hold off on making my decision if you come in today and pitch your case as to why hiring you will be more beneficial than hiring one I've already interviewed.

Please respond to this email no later than noon, informing me you'll be in today for an interview.

Sincerely,

Hannah

Panic set in quickly when my eyes shot over to the upper left-hand corner of my phone, and I saw I only had ten minutes to respond to the email. Hearing my father continually yell and angrily pound on my door prompted me to react immediately to the resort's email, fearing that I'd lose out on a great job opportunity if I waited any longer to respond.

Dear Hannah,

Thank you so much for responding and letting me know you're willing to hold off on your hiring decision until I come in and give my reasoning as to why I'll be the better hire. I can promise you won't be disappointed. I want and need this job, so please allow me a few hours to get there, as I will be coming from Minneapolis.

Thank you,

Tawny Kincaid

I dropped my phone, then sprang from my bed, rushed to my closet, grabbed my luggage, then flung them on the bed, and packed my entire wardrobe faster than you can say, Jack Robinson.

"About time you-" my father began to say, then stopped when he saw me pulling my luggage behind me. "Where are you going?"

"Far away from here," I groaned, my luggage rolling over his feet as I left the room.

"You can't leave me here all alone," he protested, worry in his voice.

"Yes, I can. And I am. Just watch me," I angrily warned, walking faster to the front door. "You don't give a shit about mom or me. And if you did care, you wouldn't be trying to land where she is."

"Tawny, stop!" he yelled. "What did you do with all my stuff?"

I stopped walking, momentarily closed my eyes, then turned around and snapped. "Your "stuff" you can find in the sewer drain." I turned around and continued walking away. "Good luck finding it all."

"Do you know how much money you just threw away?"

"Do you think I care?" Before opening the door, I slightly turned my head until I could see him out of the corner of my eye. It hurts leaving my father this way, and I do fear that my leaving will only encourage him to continue putting all that poison into his body, that he'll end up fulfilling his wish of dying. But I had to do this. I had to leave. There's just no way I can stay in my father's home and suffer by watching him take the path towards death.

"You may not love me enough to want to be here. But you need to know why I got rid of your shit. And it's because I care. I love you, and I do want you here. The day you see and realize you're worth living, I'll come back. But until then, I need to keep my distance from you. All you're doing is bringing me down, and because of that, I fear I'll end up in the same exact state of mind as to where mom was."

I walked out that front door, not waiting for my father to respond, hoping it'll make him see and think harder about what I said. I won't hold my breath, but I hope by my leaving, he'll take my words to heart, and it'll get him to see what he's doing to himself and me.

Three hours later, I was north of the cities, in the middle of nowhere - with no phone service - and lost. I looked back at Hannah's directions, then my phone, and slowly inched my car forward until my google maps came back to life. Finally, it fully loaded, and when I saw where I was supposed to be and where I am now, I see I missed one of my turns a ways back.

God, I hope Hannah doesn't think I changed my mind, and she ended up calling one of the interviewees-giving them the job.

I turned around, and as I drove the thirty miles back to where I was supposed to turn, my eyes wandered the road covered in tall pines, oak trees, birch trees, and brush, expecting an animal to walk out in front of me.

Now I see how I missed the turn. The street sign was hovering over the ground as if someone recently drove into it, avoiding a deer grazing the road.

After turning and driving down the gravel road a little way, a wooden sign appeared, displaying the resorts in the area. The Paradise Inn Resort was one of them, and it's five miles up ahead.

Finally, I found the resort. And as I drove the long curvy road to get to where I needed to be, my eyes wandered the area. Their grassy area was damn near perfect-the grass looking like a golf course. And then the cabins, motorhomes, and trailers came to view.

This was not just some rickety old resort to vacation for a week, weekend, or summer. This was a high-end fancy resort-a place for families with money to escape the city life.

I walked into the main office and stopped a worker dusting a shelf full of perishables. "Ah... excuse me. I'm here to see Hannah. Do you know where I can find her?"

She smiled and pointed to an area around the corner. "See that little hallway next to the tall wooden shelf?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"You'll see a door at the end. Hannah might be in that room. If not, come back and see me. I'll get ahold of her on my radio here," the woman said, pointing to the small walkie-talkie-like gadget attached to her hip.

"Thanks."

While driving up here, I rehearsed everything I wanted to say about why she should hire me and not one of the others she interviewed earlier. But the closer I got to the open door, my mind instantly went blank-forgetting everything I wished to say.

Crap...

I stepped a foot into the room, then stopped when I saw a beautiful dark-haired, perfectly tanned woman, looking to be about my age, standing beside a desk, looking down at her watch.

Interrupting her, I knocked on the door and cleared my throat. "Ah, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for Hannah."

Her head lifted, and her lips curved upward. "That's me. Are you Tawny?"

"I am," I nodded.

Hannah extended her hand as she walked towards me. "It's nice to meet you. Did you find the place, okay?"

A nervous giggle escaped me. "I missed the turn onto the gravel road, driving about thirty miles out of my way before realizing my google maps stopped working—"

She interrupted, looking disturbed. "They still haven't fixed the sign?"

I shook my head. "No. It's laying on the ground."

"I'm sorry about that. I've been on the county's ass all week about getting that fixed." She sighed. "My mother drove into that sign last weekend, trying to avoid hitting a doe crossing the road with her fawns."

I thought that might have been the case.

Hannah pulled out a chair, having me sit. She walked around the desk, and as she sat, my nerves activated into a nervous mess after noticing her studying me. "I'm sure I look like a mess. I had a very long night," I admitted, sighing and twisting my lips. "To be honest, I wasn't expecting anyone to get back to me as fast as you did."

She laughed. "Been there, done that. But I, too, will admit your messages cracked me up. I probably listened to your voice message about fifteen times before finally emailing you back."

Great. She knows I was drunk.

"I had a tough night," I said, lowering my shoulders, remembering what I found in my father's room. And hoping the way I look won't affect her hiring me. "I'm sure it was quite obvious I was drunk."

She laughed, waving her hand across her face. "No biggie. Like I said, your message made me laugh. Especially when you said you had an ungodly hot-looking asshole millionaire on your ass begging you for money and that you desperately needed to get away from him."

I squirmed in my chair, and then I covered my face with my hands when I felt my cheeks heating. "I'm so embarrassed."

Hannah's mouth stretched into a grin. "No need to feel embarrassed. But I will give you a head's up about our resort's clientele. And that is they all have money," she said, rubbing her fingers together. "And some of them can be assholes... my older brother being one of them," she added, raising an eyebrow.

"Does your brother work here also?"

She nodded, then smirked. "My brother isn't here much but is the one who owns this resort. So I should warn you. He's very stringent with how things run around here, and lately, he's become a very uncompromising asshole. It drives me absolutely insane." she emphasized frustratedly.

Great. Just what I need to deal with—another asshole.

"So, if I do hire you, and my brother happens to confront you about something he has a problem with. Just do what I do and stand up for yourself. Let him have it." She winked, smiling wide. "To be honest, I think he enjoys being an asshole towards women. He knows he gets more attention that way... and it's only gotten worse after the car accident he was in almost two years ago. I can guarantee if you show him that you won't take his shit, it'll surprise him, but he'll leave you alone."

🤷‍♀️ I hope the chapter was okay!!🤞🤞