Perfect pawn

Chapter One I walked through the streets of New York City like I knew what was in store for me. Unfortunately, I didn’t. Well, I knew why I was here. My handsome ex was here, and I had a huge craving for vengeance. My plan? Find a hot guy to like me. Make my ex jealous. Then… Honestly, I hadn’t figured out the rest. I know. Very impressive. Someone should probably take away my imaginary award for Best Life Decisions. I guess it was stupid of me to quit my job and move to another city over some hot ex who had already moved on with a girl who looked like Sabrina Carpenter. Though I couldn’t deny she was hot. I huffed. I waved my hands furiously at a taxi. For Christ’s sake, I was tired of standing by the roadside. Aren’t there any gentlemen in New York who’d offer a girl a ride? I rolled my eyes and sighed so loudly that I didn’t even realize I’d done it until I caught an old woman staring at me. Her eyes looked like they had died in their sockets. She was judging me. And honestly? I didn’t need another woman judging my life choices today. I was already doing an excellent job of that myself. I slid into the back seat and pulled the door shut. “Finally,” I muttered, sinking into the seat. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror but said nothing. “So… is it always this busy around here?” I asked. “Sometimes.” I nodded. “Right. Makes sense. It’s New York.” Silence. I looked out the window for a few seconds before turning back to him. “Have you lived here long?” “Yeah.” “How long?” He shrugged. “A while.” I blinked. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure if he was naturally quiet or if he simply didn’t like me. Probably the second one. “So, do you know any good restaurants around here?” I tried again. “I’m new, and I honestly have no idea where anything is. Unless fast food counts, because I saw like three places already and—” “There’s plenty around.” I stopped. “Okay.” Silence again. I stared out the window. Apparently, I’d paid for a taxi ride and a personality rejection. Rude. Fine. I could keep quiet too. For the rest of the ride, I watched the city pass by, occasionally checking the address on my phone to make sure we were actually heading in the right direction. When the taxi finally stopped, the driver glanced at me through the mirror. “Here.” I looked out the window. “Oh. Right.” I grabbed my phone, opened the door, and stepped out. Then I remembered the suitcases. Of course. I walked around to the trunk and opened it, staring at my luggage like it had personally offended me. I grabbed the handle of the first suitcase and pulled. Nothing. I tried again. Still nothing. I clenched my jaw and pulled harder. “Okay… come on.” The suitcase finally moved, but only enough to make my back hurt. I glanced toward the driver. He was still sitting comfortably in his seat. I swallowed my pride. “Excuse me?” I called. He lowered the window slightly. “Could you maybe help me with these?” He looked at his watch. “Quick. I’ve got things to do.” I stared at him. Seriously? I’d just arrived in New York, and this man had already managed to annoy me. “Right,” I muttered. “Because apparently helping someone with a suitcase is a national emergency.” He frowned. I smiled sweetly. “Nothing.” After what felt like an eternity, I finally got my suitcases out of the trunk. The driver drove away before I could even properly close it. I watched the taxi disappear down the street. “Welcome to New York,” I muttered. I grabbed my suitcases and dragged them towards the apartment building. The building looked… Well. Let’s just say the pictures online had been very generous. I stared up at it. This was where my money had brought me. Wonderful. I dragged the first suitcase through the entrance, then the second, silently praying there wouldn’t be too many stairs. There were stairs. Of course there were. By the time I reached my apartment, my arms felt like they were about to fall off. I unlocked the door and pushed it open. I stood there for a moment. Then I stepped inside. My excitement lasted approximately three seconds. The apartment was tiny. Not cute-tiny. Not cozy-tiny. Just… Tiny. I slowly looked around. The walls needed a fresh coat of paint. The couch looked like it had survived several generations, and the kitchen was so small that I could probably touch both counters if I stretched my arms out. I dropped my bag onto the floor. “This is not what the pictures looked like.” I walked towards the window and looked outside. At least the view wasn’t terrible. I turned around again. My old apartment had been almost twice this size. Okay, maybe more than twice. And it had actual furniture. And functioning everything. I sighed. “Why did I do this?” I already knew the answer. My ex. Of course. Everything somehow came back to him. I pulled out my phone and checked my bank balance. My mood dropped immediately. “Oh.” I stared at the number. Then stared again, as if the money might magically increase if I looked hard enough. It didn’t. I had enough to survive for a little while. A little while being a very generous way of putting it. I needed a job. Fast. I dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. Maybe I could work at a restaurant. Waitress. That wasn’t so bad. People did it all the time. I could smile, carry plates, take orders, and pretend I was interested in whatever random story customers wanted to tell me. Easy. Except… What if he saw me? I sat up. No. Absolutely not. I could already imagine my ex walking into some restaurant and seeing me carrying plates around in a cheap uniform. He’d probably laugh. Or worse… He’d look at me with pity. I hated that thought more than I hated the job itself. “Nope.” I shook my head. I’d figure something else out. I always did. At least, that’s what I told myself. My eyes wandered around the apartment again. For the first time since I’d arrived, the excitement of being in New York began to fade. I’d left my old job. Left my old apartment. Left almost everything familiar behind. And for what? To make a man jealous? That sounded even more ridiculous when I said it in my head. I leaned back against the couch. Maybe I’d made a mistake. My gaze landed on the small suitcase I’d brought with me. The one I’d packed in a hurry. There were clothes inside. A few personal things. And a photograph. I reached for it. My fingers paused before I pulled it out. My parents. For a moment, everything else disappeared. They had always made every place feel like home. Even when I was younger, I never understood how quickly a home could become a memory. I looked at the photograph for a few seconds before turning it face down. I didn’t want to think about it. Not today. Today was supposed to be about starting over. A new city. A new apartment. A new life. Even if the apartment looked like it was one bad day away from collapsing. I stood up and picked up my suitcase. “Okay,” I whispered to myself. I could do this. I had no idea what I was doing. I had very little money. I had no job. And apparently, New York taxi drivers hated helping people with luggage. But I was here. And I wasn’t going back. Not yet. There were things I needed to sort out before I could even think about going back. Things I wasn’t ready to talk about. Things that had nothing to do with making my ex jealous. I looked at the photograph one last time before putting it away. Then I turned towards the rest of my unpacked belongings. One problem at a time. I had a life to rebuild. And a few scores I wasn’t prepared to forget.