Romance: Edge of Desire by Kelli Sloan Page A

day…”
     
     
     

Chapter 2
     
     
     
     

One month later…
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
    I can see it.
    My heart is pounding as I look at the single envelope.
    It might just be a piece of paper, but the piece of paper tells my future.
    I stare into the mailbox of my apartment number wanting the piece of paper to disappear. I want it to vanish into thin air.
    It is the bill.
    The final bill.
    The one I cannot afford to pay.
    I knew it coming but I tried to forget about it. I tried to leave it in the back of my head and somehow, I wished it would never come. I wanted there to be an administration error at the bank, and the letter demanding the loan repayment wouldn’t arrive.
    But it has.
    And now I am staring at it – just hoping for some help.
    But I don’t receive any.
    I never have in my life.
    Gym memberships, healthy eating and yoga classes all cost money. I feel the best I have ever felt in my life, but I am still broke.
    Dead broke.
    I’m so broke that I’m going to have to turn back to the person I never thought I would ask for help again – my mother.
    We never got along as I grew up. We clashed right from day one. Arguments were the norm for us – it was the only way we knew how to converse. And so when I turned twenty-one years old and finished my degree in Sociology, I left home and moved to New York City.
    The Big Apple.
    A city full of hopes, ambitions… and failed dreams.
    I worked so hard to get a good job. I put in application after application after application, but they all came back saying the same thing - ‘ Not enough experience .’
    Well, how am I supposed to get experience if nobody will employ me?
    Swallowing my pride, I started applying for any job that paid above the minimum wage. Eventually, I landed a job at a small, but busy, café in Wall St.
    I loved it.
    Even two years later, I still love it.
    I feel like I am at the center of the action. I am part of the buzz and adrenalin of world markets. If the markets go up, then people are walking into my coffee shop with massive smiles on their faces and high-fiving each other. But if the markets go down… so does the mood of the whole place.
    I work hard, party a lot and smile all day.
    The tips I make from the workers is good but not enough to get me past the line.
    I came to New York City looking for something… but I still don’t know what that is. I have always been sure that when I find it, I will know.
    Am I looking for success? Not really…
    A career? Maybe….
    A man? I don’t know.
    But now, after this bill breaks me financially, I won’t get the chance to find it.
    “Excuse Miss, can I get into that mailbox?” a voice asks over my shoulder.
    “Oh?” I realize that I have been staring at the envelope for a long time now. “Of course.”
    I grab the envelope and walk back to the elevator. Despite it being only a single piece of paper, it weighs a lot. The tension is pulling inside my head. I don’t want to hold onto this envelope any more.
    The elevator doesn’t come and I can’t hold onto this bill anymore - I run up the stairs, desperate to let go of this poisonous piece of paper.
    This bill is going to destroy me.
    As I run into my apartment, I throw the envelope onto the bench and stare at it some more.
    Damn.
    My adventure in New York City is over.
     
     

Chapter 3
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
    “Good morning Harper,” Nicole sings from behind the coffee shop counter. She has obviously already had two cups of coffee before we have opened up.
    “Morning,” I reply quietly.
    My quiet reply stops Nicole in her tracks.
    That’s what I love about this woman. She seems to know me better than I know myself. She can read me like a book and can tell me how I am going to feel before I’ve even thought about it.
    “It arrived.”
    “The bill?”
    I nod.
    “That bill?” she asks again.
    “It’s the final bill, Nicole. The last one. The one I can’t afford to pay.”
    “Maybe you can…”
    “No,” I