Peyton Church is a city girl by anyone's standards. Born and raised in New York City, she grew up wanting for nothing. She attended the most prestigious preparatory schools, shopped on Fifth Avenue, dined with the rich and famous and was adored by...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I'M SORRY MISS, but your card has been declined."
I blink, looking down at the shiny piece of plastic the saleswoman is holding out to me in confusion. "No, no, that's impossible. There must be something wrong with your machine. I know for a fact I'm nowhere near my limit."
The woman fixes me with a bored expression, shaking the card in her hand, willing me to take it from her. "Please take your card, miss. I need to assist the next customer. Maybe you could come back later."
My jaw sets in frustration as I pull my wallet from my bag and pull out a wad of hundred dollar bills. Taking my card from her hand, I slap a few bills on the counter and shove them in her direction. "Here. This should cover it."
She wordlessly takes the money, conspicuously scrutinizing them to check for counterfeit bills. My jaw works as I stare at her, the whispering of the socialites behind me and the snickers of my friends providing a soundtrack to my public humiliation. After a long pause, the woman finally decides that I'm not some kind of shoplifter, and deposits the cash in the till. She's barely able to hold up the bag and receipt before I rip them out of her hands and stomp off towards the front doors of the boutique.
"Wow," my friend Mia snickers, bumping me with her hip when she catches up to me. "Was that as embarrassing as it looked to be?"
I shoot a glare at the girl on my right, resisting the urge to inform her that her so-called professional balayage looks more like bad roots. "Shut up," I grumble instead, deciding that insulting the hair of the girl who is my ride home would not be in my best interest.
On my other side, Natalie nudges my shoulder. "You should just report that bitch. You've been a loyal customer of their's for years. They have no right to disrespect you like that."
I smile at my other friend's words as we approach Mia's white Porsche. Natalie puts the front seat down, allowing me to slide gracefully into the back seat, a move I had practiced many times before. "You're right. I think I will, Nat. Thanks!"
Natalie laughs as Mia starts the car, cranking the radio up as some obscenely overplayed pop song blares through the speakers. Despite the loud noise, I'm aware of my ringing phone, and yell for Mia to turn it down.
As the music quietens down, I press my cellphone to my ear. "Hey, Mom."
"Where are you, Peyton?" My mother's voice rings out, seriousness in her tone.
I can't stop my eyes from rolling. "Mia, Nat and I went for brunch then shopping, remember? Mia's just driving us home from Carlisle's now."
"I need you home, right now, Peyton."
"Okay, Mom," I respond, shaking my head frustratingly in the rear view mirror for my friends to see. "I'll be home in a few."
