Page 2 of The Reverse Cinderella

What he thought he was going to do on the top of the elevator car, Piaget would never know. Nor if he was responsible for what happened next or if it was just more poor maintenance. Since Gary was broke, there was no money to investigate.

The company says that Gary must have been at fault and did something to the gears, or switches or whatever it is that holds the car stationary. As such he made his life insurance void (not that he didn’t cash most of it out already and promptly spent it). The car became unstuck, but without electricity to guide it, there was a malfunction and it plunged down the shaft, taking Gary with it. A one in a trillion chance. Gary was always lucky like that.

After his death Piaget found out that while Gary had made lots of money, he’d more than spent it. They were in the red past their eyeballs. She couldn’t technically even afford his funeral. It was a nightmare. All their grieving, sympathetic friends dried up faster than the funds. Piaget declared bankruptcy. Bankruptcy financially, emotionally, physically, just bankrupt. She nearly moved back with her parents but the tight look on her mother’s face indicated that was not the best idea. It was enough that she had blackened the family name by being so gauche as to not have money. It would be worse to have to tell her social circle that one of her children had to move back home. Instead her mother and father offered her financial support which Piaget turned down. She still had some pride left.

Now she worked at a café and attended school while raking up debt. Piaget was pursuing old dreams, crossing her fingers and hoping for the best.

“Hey Red, you coming to the mixer tonight at Barney’s?” Adam asked. He was always calling her red because of her auburn hair.

“Probably not, Adam,” Piaget replied to a rather approximate replica of Hurley from Lost. Except for the green hair, he was a ringer. Of course, most of these kids probably didn’t even know the series. Hardly anyone under twenty-five seemed to watch television anymore. Maybe if the series made it to Netflix they’d call it retro or something. The thought made her feel old.

“Come on, it’ll be great. We’re splitting for the new veggie nacho tray…” he waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Since when are vegetables sexy?” She smiled despite herself. He was entertaining and always trying to get her to hang out with his friends.

“Hey, there’s cheese and corn chips. I’m in and you are too, I won’t take no for an answer!” He tossed over his shoulder as he continued down the hall.

“We’ll see,” Piaget called back.

Michi, Michelle or whatever her name was snorted. “Fat chance, fat boy.”

Piaget smiled in a non-friendly way. “Hey, Mom, you mentioned counselling? Why don’t we drop in on student services next? I think the office is even open right now. We can discuss what is and what is not appropriate for conduct at college.”

After the tour she headed for the café that she was now forced to work at. Okay, Piaget thought, she was lucky to get a job there, especially since she had never worked a day in her life until she was hired. It paid for things like groceries when she wasn’t nabbing food from the café at a discounted price. Piaget nodded at Dix, the ever-present coworker who was waiting for her big break in the art world. She put on an apron to get ready for her shift. “How are things today?”

“Three misguided souls tried to hit on me. Two people didn’t know what they ordered and pretended I had made a mistake, which we both know never happens.” Dix sighed, blowing her black and blue hair out of her face. “It was boring. I’m in the middle of a masterpiece and I have to come to work to pay the rent.”

“It’s hard when reality interferes with living,” Piaget agreed. “I hear there’s a party going on a Barneys tonight.”

“The bar?” Dix asked.

“Do you know another Barneys?” Piaget raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t think you would be into going to a bar,” Dix said as she dumped the remains of old coffee and started a new pot. Her movements were efficient on her small body. She was one of the few people that Piaget knew who was shorter than her five foot four frame.

“Normally I’m not,” Piaget replied. She made a face. “I should probably study anyways since by some miracle I have a short shift.”

“Don’t remind me,” Dix groaned. “I still have to work three hours after you leave to make up for that stupid launch I tried to do with Gorgio. Good thing I didn’t put too much money into it.”

“I thought it was going to make your career?” Piaget asked as she started sorting packets into their appropriate containers.

“Total scam and I fell for it. Gorgio didn’t have any big clients looking for new artists. He just wanted money from us amateurs. He didn’t even rent the building where the exhibit was supposed to take place, just took the money and ran. I’m glad I only paid enough for one space rather than the three I thought about. I paid out for a cab and when I got to the address, there was no gallery.”

“Dix, I’m so sorry,” she sympathized.

Dix waved away her words. “Lesson learned. I just hate that I was that stupid.”

“Next time you’ll check it out before committing,” Piaget refilled the cups. “If you need someone to go with you, I can.”

“I think I’ll stick to Art in the Park and the street.”

“You’ll never get discovered that way. Plus, you won’t make as much money. And how safe can it be, selling art on a sidewalk?”

“Maybe I’ll get arrested by a cute cop,” Dix flashed her a dimpled grin. “Stop worrying about me mom.”

Piaget rolled her eyes. “You are too cool to be my daughter.”

“Got that right.” Dix helped a customer and then returned to their conversation. “If you do go to Barneys, I want a full accounting of what happened.”