“Can I work here to pay it off? Please?”
Silently, I try to calculate how long that will take me. Wednesday, Thursday... December... carry the one.
Anderson nods understandingly, and my shoulders sag in relief.
“Yes, you can work here to pay it off, but I’m going to need someone who’s a student to vouch for you. Is there anyone who can do that?”
The first person who comes to mind is Silas. If he’d just stuck around, we could have used his student number, and then I could have worked to pay off the box. But I don’t have a way to contact him, and I doubt he’d ever vouch for me. He’d be way more likely to throw me into the fire and watch me burn.
Tate would help, but I can’t ask him to rescue me again. Not when he spent all weekend helping his sister and probably got next to no sleep. He doesn’t need to deal with my problems on top of his own.
Charles can easily afford to help too, but he already bought me so much. The makeup. The princess dress. All the silky dresses and jeans and sweaters he had delivered to the apartment. Plus, my expensive flats and the laptop. At this point, I already owe him so much I’ll probably never be able to pay him back. How could I ask for more?
Which only leaves one person. JJ. My Knight in Shining Armor. But what if I ask him for help and he says no? What if he says it was all my fault and I should fix it? What if he doesn’t believe that Silas is partially to blame?
“Roonie?” My fairy godblazer calls me back to earth.
“Charles,” I blurt out. He has a private plane! He’ll pay for the box. I’m sure he will.
“Charles who?” Anderson prompts.
I feel a wave of doubt. I don’t want Charles to think I’m using him. Not when just last night, I kept insisting I wanted to find a job so I could stand on my own two feet. I’m such a hypocrite.
“I’m going to need a last name,” Anderson presses.
Herrington is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say it. “JJ Campbell,” I tell Anderson instead.
Of the three guys, JJ’s the only one who hasn’t seen me at my worst. He wasn’t there when I first arrived at the apartment, covered in mud and dirt. He wasn’t around when I flooded the apartment. He never bought me clothes the way Charles and Tate have, and at most he paid for some pizza and burgers—not any of the fancy, expensive food.
I don’t owe my Knight in Shining Armor anything. At least, not yet.
“JJ Campbell.” Anderson nods. “Tell him to bring his student card and one piece of ID. I’m going to have to verify he’s a student and enter this into the system.”
“The system?” I gasp.
“It’s just an automated billing program,” Anderson explains. “The purchase will go on his student card, but as long as you can work it off, I’ll remove it from his account like it never happened. Think of it as insurance.”
“Okay.” I quickly punch in JJ’s number. The phone rings and rings and then JJ picks up, sounding a little out of breath. “Roonie? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I mean, no!”
“What happened?”
“It’s nothing bad. Well, not that bad. Okay, it’s kind of bad?”
“What? What is it?” JJ cries.
“Nothing. I swear. I fell and broke something, and I need a student number, and I don’t have one and...”
“Are you at the campus health center?”
“What? No.” I quickly explain that I’m at the jewelry store.
“Don’t go anywhere,” JJ shouts. “I’ll be right there.”
“That’s not going to be a problem,” I tell him, looking at Anderson.
Less than ten minutes pass before the bell above the front door jingles and JJ runs in... followed by Tate and Charles.
“Oh no,” I moan.
“Is everything all right?” Anderson asks in surprise.
I nod, even though it’s not. Tate and Charles weren’t supposed to be here. They’ve done so much for me already, and I’ve been nothing but trouble since the day we met.
“Roonie!” JJ runs up to me. “Where are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No. I’m fine.” I shake my head.
“You said you fell.” JJ turns to look at Tate and Charles. “She said she fell.”
“I did, but—”
“You said you broke something.” His eyes roam over my body—first my legs and then my arms—looking for damage.
“I—”
“Roonie, what did you break?” Tate pushes JJ aside and runs his hands up and down my arms.
“A box.”
“A box?” Charles frowns as he carefully maneuvers around the guys. Despite his size, he doesn’t crash into any of the display cases or knock any of the dainty items off the shelf. Still, I hold my breath until he makes it to where I’m standing. When he places a gentle hand on my shoulder, I exhale sharply.
“Did that hurt?” Charles demands.
“No. Nothing hurts. I’m fine. I swear.” I gesture at the broken box that Anderson set down on the counter. “I can’t say the same for this.”
“What is it?” JJ asks, frowning at it.
“It’s a 17th century carved gold jewelry box,” Charles says, picking it up. “You can tell by the design on the front. Very rare.”
I gulp.
“That’s absolutely right.” Anderson perks up. “How did you know that?”
Charles shrugs and scratches his beard. “It’s going to be a devil to fix, with that broken hinge. And the crack will always be visible.”
I moan.
“Roonie said she’s willing to work to pay it off,” Anderson steps in. “But I’m going to need—”
“You don’t have to work, Roonie,” Charles says, like the mere thought is distasteful. “Just put it on my tab.”
He reaches for his wallet, but I grab his hand, stopping him.
“I can’t let you pay for it.”
“Why the hell not?” Charles frowns.
“Because she’s going to let me pay for it,” Tate says. “My student number is—”
“No, Tate, please...” I try to argue, but the guys don’t listen.
“Roonie called me first,” JJ says. “So I should be the one to pay for it. I only told you two idiots because I thought she was hurt.”
“You’re not paying for it, JJ,” I tell him.
“I don’t care which one of you pays for it,” Anderson says, which starts the guys arguing all over again until he speaks up. “If it helps, I can split the price between the three of you.”
“Yes!” Tate says.
“Brilliant,” Charles adds.
“Good thinking.” JJ nods.
“No!” I cry. “I can’t let you pay for it.”
“Roonie,” Anderson interrupts. “I was going to let you work here as a favor to you, because I knew you didn’t have the money. But your friends clearly do, and the store really can’t afford to take that kind of hit.”
“Oh.” My heart sinks.
“Maybe you can find another job on campus to pay them back?” Anderson suggests.