Burn (Page 14)

"Trouble?" A coworker sneered at her as he passed. "Who knew being rich would be such a bitch?" He laughed at his own joke as he entered the plant, and everyone in the vicinity laughed, too.

If she’d only known, if she’d had any idea, she’d have set up a blind trust and never gone public. She wouldn’t even have told Michelle, not until she actually had the money. Not that Michelle hadn’t been great, but these past two weeks had been hell – and now this. Now Dylan was suing her for half the winnings, claiming … whatever it was he was claiming, that they’d lived together and shared expenses and went in on the winning ticket together, along with a bunch of other bullshit.

Hounded to death was a reasonable description of what Jenner’s life had been like for the past two weeks. Practically from the minute her name had been released as the jackpot winner, her phone had rung. And rung. And rung. All hours of the day and night, the phone rang, until she had finally unplugged it, more or less permanently. Charities, long-lost relatives – usually so long-lost she hadn’t even known she had them – people offering her the opportunity of a lifetime to get in on the ground floor of a great business opportunity, friends who wondered if she could help them out of tight spots … the list was endless. At first she had patiently explained to each and every one that she hadn’t received a single dime yet and possibly wouldn’t for months, but she’d soon learned that reality hadn’t made a dent in their persistence. Most people simply didn’t believe her.

She fished out her cell phone and called Al, who had become her voice of sanity, her anchor. "I’m being sued for half," she said baldly when Al answered. "An ex-boyfriend – who I broke up with before the drawing, and I can prove it, because I called a friend and we went out to celebrate."

"Did you live together?" Al asked briskly.

"No. Never. He wore out his welcome pretty fast."

"I know you don’t want to do it, but you have to hire a lawyer. The suit has to be answered and dealt with, or he wins by default." Al had been recommending an estate lawyer and Jenner had been resisting, not wanting to take on that expense when getting the money would take so long, but Jenner recognized necessity when she was staring at it.

"All right, one lawyer coming up. Can Dylan win anyway?"

"I doubt it. A lawyer can tell you more about that than I can. He probably just wants you to pay him to go away, because lawyer fees can add up fast. When your lawyer contacts his lawyer, don’t be surprised if he makes an offer to settle out of court for, oh, fifty thousand or so."

"I’m not giving him one red cent, no matter how much a lawyer costs," Jenner said between gritted teeth. She glanced at her watch, then at the employees’ door. She was going to be late clocking in if she didn’t get a move on. "I gotta go, I’m going to be late."

"I keep telling you: quit."

"I have to have something to live on until the money comes through."

"So borrow fifteen, twenty thousand from the bank. They’ll gladly give it to you just on your signature alone, no collateral required. Take a vacation, get out of here until everything settles down."

Al had been recommending that from the time Jenner’s name went public, but Jenner was still too close to getting by from paycheck to paycheck to be so cavalier about going into debt for that much money. Twenty thousand was a lot of money to her, one fifth of the amount she’d settled on for discretionary cash. To her, that would be money wasted, blown on basically nothing, and she just couldn’t make herself do it. Not yet, anyway. Things were getting so uncomfortable at work, she wasn’t ruling anything out.

"I’ll think about it." That was the first time she’d given in, even a little, on her stance that she had to work. "I don’t know how much longer I can take this." She felt guilty for admitting even that much of weakness, as if she had already moved to Wussville. She ended the call and trudged toward the plant entrance.

But it wasn’t just all the people asking for money or even Dylan. It was everything. It was the way her coworkers had celebrated with her, at first – before the snide comments started. They resented her for still being there. What was she doing working when she didn’t need the money? She was taking a job from someone who really needed a job – meaning a relative, a friend, whoever they knew who was unemployed. Her explanation about how long it took to get the money was no more than wasted breath, because to them she had options, so therefore she had no excuse. And maybe she didn’t. Maybe she’d just do as Al suggested, borrow some money, and get away, which would give her the added bonus of being somewhere Jerry couldn’t find her, at least for a little while.

Her dad had shown up almost immediately, as she’d known he would. It had started with a phone call, the morning after her name was in the newspapers. "Hey, baby girl!" he’d boomed, all jovial and loving, as if it hadn’t been months – almost a year – since she’d heard from him and had no idea where he was. "Way to go! We gotta go out and celebrate!"

"Where are you?" Jenner asked, not responding to the "celebrate" idea. Too many people wanted to "celebrate" with her, which of course meant she’d pick up the tab. After the first couple of "invitations," that had gotten old fast. Michelle was one thing, because Michelle had picked up the tab for Jenner during bad times, but anyone else? Uh-uh.

"Huh? Oh, nowhere important," Jerry said blithely. "I can be there in a few hours."

"Don’t bother. I have to work. And it could be two months before I get any of the money."

"Two months!" The blitheness changed to shock. "What’s taking so long?"