“He’s the reason you don’t have a place to live, you don’t think he’ll feel bad and try and make it right?”

“You heard my landlord, the place is already rented. You know as well as I do he’s been waiting for this to happen. He wants me to fail.”

“He doesn’t want you to fail.” I give her a look and she sighs again. “What about your line of credit? Can you pay off some of the rent with that?”

I pull up my account details on my phone. Even if I could raise it by a few more thousand, I can’t cover three missed months. I shake my head.

“What about a cash advance on your credit card?”

“There’s not a lot of room.” I have maybe three hundred dollars left before I hit my max. It’s a low max, but adding to my credit card debt seems like a bad idea, especially considering my current circumstances.

“Oh God.”

“Yeah.”

“I could lend you—”

“Nope. No way.” I cut her off before she can finish. “I won’t borrow money from you.”

“You have to let me do something. I’m not going to let you be homeless. You won’t do well in an alley. Cardboard boxes aren’t your thing.”

She’s trying to be funny, but the reality of my situation finally slaps me in the face like a three-day-old dead fish. Amie’s right. Unless I can find a new place to live and a decent job that can cover more than just rent I’m going to end up homeless or forced to move back home. Worse, I’ll have to live in my dad’s house with his horrible slutty wife who’s four years older than I am and probably screwing the gardener. Or the pool boy. Or both.

Moving to Alaska, where my mother currently lives, is an absolute no-go. New York winters are long enough. Besides, her cabin in the woods and little to no contact with the outside world is a bit on the extreme side for me. I’m fine to live in a crappy apartment in Harlem, but subzero temperatures and no neighbors is far outside of my comfort zone.

“I’ll get a part-time job.”

Amie gives me one of her mothering looks. “Okay, sure, but what about a place to live? You’re still going to need to save up at least first and last month, right? And pay back what you owe here. That’s a lot of money to come up with on your own.”

She makes another good point. “I don’t have an alternative, Amie. Not unless I want to move back to Rhode Island, which is the absolute last thing I want.”

“I can’t believe your dad did this. There has to be a way to make this work. What if you stay with me?”

I give Amie a look. “Where would I sleep? Your couch isn’t even a pullout.”

Amie purses her lips, considering this. I have a point. Her place is small. Her bedroom is tiny, her queen taking up a good portion of the room. Her living room can’t accommodate a full-sized couch because it, too, is small.

“I’ll call Armstrong. I’m sure I can stay with him, and then you can have my place while you sort things out.” She calls her fiancé and holds up a finger to silence me before I can argue against this plan. “Hi, Armstrong, I have a bit of a favor to ask—” She pauses for a few seconds before she continues. “Do you think it would be possible for me to stay with you for a little while . . . a week or two?” She gives me a questioning look. I shrug and then nod. I doubt two weeks will be enough, but it’s better than nothing. “But I—it would just be for . . . right . . . but—” She rolls her eyes and taps her foot.

I don’t need to hear the conversation to know what’s being said. I mouth just forget it.

“I understand. Never mind. I don’t want it to be an inconvience for you. We’ll figure something else out.” Her sarcasm isn’t lost on me. She ends the call. “I probably caught him at a bad time. I can try again later.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“He’s just particular. He needs time to warm up to the idea.”

I think it’s about more than being particular, but I don’t know that a week or two will be enough time to get me out of my current hole. My dire situation is far worse than I originally thought. My choices are beyond limited. I’ve never been good with failure. Especially not this kind. I don’t want to be a pampered rich bitch. I want to prove I can survive on my own, without my father’s handouts, but I’m worried I might not have an option now.

“Oh my God.” Amie’s eyes light up. “I might have a solution.”

“What’s that?”

“Army’s cousin, Bane, is going out of town this week.”

“What does that have to do with my being homeless?” I’m already deciding which alley would be the best location to set up my box. I still have my gym membership. I think it’s valid for another few months. I can use the showers there. “Wait, he has a friend named Bane? Does he look like Tom Hardy?”

“Um, no? His real name is Bancroft,” she explains.

“Ah. Another last-name-for-a-first-name trust-fund boy?”

“Mmm. He comes from a line of last names for first names, but he’s actually quite nice. Anyway, he asked me to stop by his place and take care of his pets while he’s away. He’ll be gone for five weeks, maybe you could take care of them instead.”

“He doesn’t even know me, why would he be okay with a stranger taking care of his pets? And that doesn’t really solve my homeless situation.”

“You’re my best friend. If I trust you, he’ll trust you. Besides, he has a rabbit, or a guinea pig, or something like that. He inherited her I think. Maybe we could suggest you stay there while he’s gone.”

“To take care of his guinea pig?”

“Why not? He said she needs lots of care and play time. And you know how I have allergies. It’s worth a shot isn’t it? Five weeks should be enough time for you to get a job and save some money to secure a new apartment, right?”

“It should be enough time.” I’m not actually sure it will be unless I get a pretty major role, but temporary accommodations will buy me some time to sort that out and it’s better than crashing on Amie’s loveseat. “When will you ask him?”

“We’re going out for dinner with him tonight. Think you can stomach a meal?”