If I were queen of the world, there wouldn’t be money.

Beth Cardall’s Diary

The next morning was overcast, with sporadic snow flurries. I was back at the press when Teresa walked by. She was wearing a leotard body suit that accentuated her curves.

“Hey, Beth, have you been lifting weights?”

I looked at her quizzically. “No. Why?”

“I don’t know, you just look different. Prettier.” Her observation sounded more like a complaint than a compliment. “My boyfriend noticed,” she said, and walked off.

I couldn’t help but smile. The truth was, I felt prettier. An hour later I told Roxanne about the exchange.

“It’s true, baby doll. I’ve never seen you this gorgeous. Never. And you have always been beautiful.”

“He makes me feel beautiful. He makes me so happy.”

She smiled. “Happy is pretty too.”

Matthew came by the cleaners to pick me up a little after noon. As usual, he came in through the front lobby. As I walked from the back to greet him, Teresa walked around the front counter. “Hi, handsome.”

I stopped when I saw her approach him. Roxanne was in back ironing vests and was watching as well. “What is she doing?” Suddenly she turned red. “She’s hitting on your man. I’m going to kill that little hussy,” she said, setting down the iron. “I’m going to stick her head in a buck press.”

“Wait,” I said. “I want to see this.”

Teresa moved seductively toward him. “Can I help you?”

Matthew looked amused. “You must be Teresa.”

She smiled coquettishly. “How did you know?”

“Your reputation precedes you. Would you mind telling Beth I’m here?”

Her smile fell. “Sure.” She walked back, surprised to find both Roxanne and I standing there. Roxanne glared at her but held her tongue.

“Your man’s here,” she said snidely.

“Thank you, Teresa,” I said.

“Don’t mention it. I’m going to the bathroom.” She stormed off.

“Revenge is sweet,” Roxanne said. “Like nectar.”

“See you, hon,” I said.

“Have a good lunch.”

Matthew smiled when he saw me. He greeted me with a hug. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

When we were in his car, I said, “So you met Teresa.”

“Yeah. Was she hitting on me?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t she know I’m yours?”

The way he said that made me happy on many levels. “She knew.”

“What a skank,” he said.

I burst out laughing. “I just love you.”

Outside of shopping, I pretty much hate anything to do with money, and the visit to the bank was even more excruciating than I thought it would be. I didn’t understand all the talk about points, HELOCs and adjustable rates. In the end, all I came away with was that I was approved for a $63,000 loan.

As we were finishing the paperwork, Matthew asked, “Do you mind if we make me a cosignatory on the loan? That way you won’t have to come down here every time I need to buy supplies.”

“Fine with me,” I said. “I hate this stuff.” I looked at the loan officer. “No offense to you.”

“None taken,” he said. “You’ll just need to sign here.”

I signed my name on the line he pointed to.

Matthew asked, “How much do you need to catch up your mortgage?”

“Let’s see. It’s nine hundred thirty-seven dollars a month, and I’m two months behind.”

“Almost nineteen hundred. Let’s take out twenty-eight hundred right now. That will cover you until April when we list the house.”

“That sounds good,” I said.

“Make the check out to Beth Cardall,” Matthew said.

“I’ll be just a minute,” the banker said, rising.

I said to Matthew, “Thank you for helping me.”

He smiled. “My pleasure,” he said.

For the first time in weeks the gnawing pain of debt was gone.

We walked out of the bank with a folder full of documents. “This belongs to you,” Matthew said, handing me the packet. “Now where would you like to go to lunch?”

“On a day like this, soup sounds kind of good.”

“There’s a great little soup place by my apartment. They have the best split-pea soup.”

“I hate split-pea.”

“That’s not all they have,” he said. “It’s just what I like.”

The restaurant was not what I expected. It was a small, cluttered dive, though surprisingly popular. I held a table for us while Matthew got our soup—split-pea for him, tomato basil for me—with Diet Cokes and a turkey sandwich to share.

As we were eating, I said, “You said you live around here.”

Matthew nodded. “Just over on the next street.”

“Can I see where you live?”

He looked a little uncomfortable. “It’s not much to look at. It’s a basement apartment. I moved here without a place to stay so I just took the first place I found.”

“Could we at least drive by?”

“If we must,” he said.

After we finished eating, we climbed into his car and drove by his apartment. I understood why he was hesitant to show me his place. The neighborhood was poor. The homes were unkempt and overgrown and the yards filled with clutter. The house where Matthew rented was old and decrepit, with a broken-down truck in the side yard next to a large stack of rusted pipes. The entry to his apartment was on the side of the house and was entered by a flight of concrete steps covered by a corrugated plastic roof. His BMW looked remarkably out of place in the neighborhood. I was surprised that he would live in such a run-down place.

“I warned you,” he said.

“It’s not so bad,” I replied.

“Are you crazy?” he said smiling. “It’s a dump. This place makes the landfill look like Central Park.”

“You’re right, it’s awful. Aren’t you afraid to park your car here?”

“A little. Now you know why we meet at your place. But don’t worry. I’m going to be moving soon. I’m about to close a big deal.”

“You’re working again?”

“I never really stopped. I’ve always got my fingers in a few deals. This is the big one I’ve been waiting for.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Believe me, it’s a big one. Best of all, it’s a sure bet.”

I had no idea that his sure bet somehow involved me.