Roses

Chapter 1

Zoey

"You wouldn't help a poor single mother out?" The textbook definition of a Karen stares at me with her dull eyes. Her daughter squirms beside her as I try to control my strong urge to roll my eyes.

Poor?  The lady has freaking Balenciaga boots on which, though go horribly with the rest of her outfit, were the first things I noticed when she walked in the store. No way in hell I'm letting her get away with the 'poor single mother' act. Her little girl seems to agree with me too as she tugs on her mother's sleeve.

"They're just some vitamins," Karen insists, tapping her crimson painted nails on the counter. At another time I would analyze her entire look and make mental notes of everything I would've done differently, but right now I'm somewhere between anxious and pissed off thanks to the call from my father's lawyer and this fashion disaster's scrimping.

"Ma'am, they're over twenty dollars. I can't just give them to you." I maintain my best retail smile as I pass her a flyer. "But our pharmacy does a lot of charity work. Perhaps you'd be interested in them. Here's a list of all the upcoming giveaways-"

"Never mind," she mutters under her breath, scrunching her nose at the paper in my hand and starts walking away, dragging the girl with her. Good riddance!

I put away the giveaways poster and take a deep breath. One problem solved. Thousand more to go. Actually, thousand would probably be an underestimate considering what a disappointment my life has become. But at least I know where to start. The phone call.

Mr. Harvey called half an hour ago to inform me of the latest updates on my father's case, not that I wanted to know in the first place. Apparently, my father wants me to have the family home. Family. What a funny word. And home, even funnier.

I left our small town of Roses when I was eighteen and vowed to myself I'll never return. A house shouldn't come between me and my vow. God knows how that town ruined me.

New York is my home now. I have a place to live, a job and a boyfriend here. Why would I leave any, all, of them? See it makes sense on paper to just stay here. But to be honest, I know deep down New York has been an epic failure. And after spending almost a decade here, I have achieved practically nothing. And nothing tethers me to it either.

So I decide not to be honest with myself and go back to wiping the clean counters, trying to find something for my hands to do.

"Why don't you go home early tonight? It isn't as busy," Jack appears from one of the aisles, tucking some expired goods under an arm to throw away. He is a couple years older than me but has always had the optimism, or immaturity, of a child. "Actually, it's an order. Go home to that boyfriend of yours. You've barely spent any time with him all week."

"Well, we're both busy people. I have," I pause and reality hits for a hot moment--I don't have much going on for me, now do I? Cashier at a pharmacy and a struggling author doesn't sound like reason enough to not be spending quality time with your boyfriend. But I don't let that deter me and continue, "Stuff... going on. And Arnie has his business." Pathetic excuse for a startup, that is. DiaperDealers, my boyfriend's brainchild app enabling kids to trade in Bitcoin wasn't just a stupid sounding idea. A damn travesty is what it was, duping parents into losing their money as their kids recklessly pressed random buttons on a screen. But Arnie shares the same optimistic gene Jack has and never believed me when I told him it was a bad idea. Doesn't believe any of the angel investors either when they give him their reasons for rejecting it.

"Not tonight!" Jack strides towards me and rips the duster from my hands. "Go home, Zoey." Taking a long sigh, I raise both hands in surrender.

"Fine."