Page 27 of Watching Henry

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Page 27 of Watching Henry

Hadley shrugged. “Please yourself.”

She ran off down the stairs and Florence watched her go, aware that the bathing suit she'd just imagined was lurking underneath the robe.

Why hadn't she pushed Hadley to leave? The phone call she'd overheard yesterday had clearly been about something that Hadley wanted to do, that had been obvious from her face. But Hadley had turned it down and Florence hadn't pressed her advantage, hadn't tried to talk her into going to do whatever it was.

She had no idea why.

From her room came the sound of chirping and Florence hurried her step, moving to answer her mobile before it stopped ringing.

“Hello,” she said, catching the call just before it switched to voicemail.

“Is this Florence Underwood?”

“Speaking.” She'd answered too quickly, she realized now, her hand starting to shake. She hadn't wondered who'd be calling her at this time of day. She'd normally be much more careful than this.

“Ms. Underwood, this is ARK Financing Corp, I'm calling about outstanding payments—”

“I'm sorry, who are you looking for?” Florence interrupted.

There had been calls before, of course. But usually they went to voicemail. Usually she was working all day, her phone safely stowed away, and so she didn't have to speak to the people personally. She didn't need to think on her feet.

“Florence Underwood,” the woman said patiently.

Should she lie? What should she do? “I, uh, I'm afraid...” Jesus. Decide, woman. What was she going to do? “I don't have time to talk to you right now,” she said, so quickly that the words almost tripped coming out of her mouth.

She ended the call, pressing the red icon and putting the phone on the table.

It immediately started to ring again. She waited, heart stopped and holding her breath until the call stopped and then she switched the phone off.

Black and blank-screened it looked up at her from her desk.

Slowly, her heart started to beat again.

If she tried very hard she could not think about her finances. When she did think about them she felt immensely guilty even though she counseled herself not to. After all, she hadn't done anything truly wrong.

She hadn't spent on credit cards, hadn't lavished herself with clothes or cars or anything else. All she'd done was choose the best place to learn her craft. A place which happened to be expensive. More expensive than she could afford.

In the end, her only crime was wanting to be the best at what she did.

And she was making payments. Whenever she got paid, a huge chunk went toward her debt. But it was never quite enough, never enough to let her catch up, let alone overtake the runaway train that this had all become.

Outside the children cried out with delight and she could hear Hadley shouting after them to be careful. The phone lay silently on her desk.

Florence turned away, busying herself with planning for the next day. Anything so that she didn't need to think about what a mess her life had turned into.

HADLEY SNAPPED THE elastic on the blue folder closed, a couple of bills screwed up in her hand. “I ordered regular cheese, one pepperoni, and a veggie pizza too,” she said. “I figured that covered all eventualities.”

“Mmm,” Florence said. Pizza wasn't what she'd have chosen, but this was Hadley's time with the kids, not hers, so as per their arrangement she had no right to complain. “I'll set the table.”

Hadley snorted, then stopped. “Wait, you were serious?”

Florence was already pulling place mats out of a drawer. “Obviously.”

“Nope, sorry.”

Florence turned around. “What do you mean, nope, sorry?”

“It's pizza, Florence, give me a break. We're going to go eat it on the deck and we're going to tell ghost stories at the same time.”




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