My Broke Boyfriend Was a Millionaire

To help my boyfriend pay off his loans, I spent two years shampooing hair at a salon.

Christine, who requested me every single day, couldn't understand it:

Lora, why don't you find someone like my boyfriend? He's incredibly generous with money gives me at least five million a month as pocket change.

Though he has a bit of a twisted streak. He likes to play poor outside and mess around with naive girls. I heard some idiot was working herself to death supporting him, ended up in the hospital multiple times."

I turned to reach for the shampoo.

"My boyfriend may not be rich, but he's loyal. He really loves me."

Just then, a luxury car pulled up outside the salon.

A man dressed head to toe in designer brands pushed the door open with a frown.

"Christine, why are you getting your hair done at a dump like this again? The people here are unsanitary don't let them give you some kind of disease."

"Did you get the two million I transferred to your card?"

My body went rigid. I didn't dare turn around.

The man's voice was identical to my boyfriend's the one with two hundred thousand dollars in loans hanging over his head.

The cheerful click of heels sounded behind me. Christine fluttered over like a butterfly.

"Got it! Why so much today? You just bought me a necklace yesterday."

Carter's voice was warm. "I couldn't be with you last night. Consider it an apology one necklace isn't nearly enough."

I stood frozen, my back to both of them.

Last night, my arm had been in searing pain. I'd begged Carter for a long time before he finally agreed to take me to the hospital.

Christine noticed I hadn't moved and tilted her head.

"Lora? Why aren't you doing anything? My hair isn't finished yet."

I took a deep breath. My voice came out a little unsteady.

"Sorry... just a little dizzy. Low blood sugar. I'll be fine in a second."

Carter's tone turned cold.

"What's the point of an employee like this?"

"I'll tell the manager to fire her."

Christine laughed it off. "Oh, babe, don't be so hard on her. She's got a leech of a boyfriend draining her dry. She's pathetic enough as it is."

The shampoo bottle slipped from my hands and hit the floor.

Foam splattered everywhere.

The man behind me went suddenly quiet.

A pair of expensive leather shoes appeared at the edge of my vision. They stopped for two seconds.

Carter said, "Go wait in the car. I need to talk to the owner."

Christine pouted. "Why? I haven't finished my hair yet."

"Be good. I'll have the driver pick up those pastries you love."

That was enough to get her moving. "Fine, but be quick," she said, and walked out.

The sound of her heels faded.

The shop door closed.

Carter stood behind me, his voice low. "Lora."

I crouched on the floor and didn't move.

"Why are you here?"

I slowly stood up and turned around.

Carter was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. On his wrist was that limited-edition watch I'd only ever seen in magazines.

He looked completely out of place in this run-down little salon.

His eyes were cold. "Didn't you tell me you worked in an office building?"

"So every day when you came home from work, you were coming back from a place like this?"

He stepped back, as if I actually had some kind of contagious disease.

I opened my mouth. The explanation I wanted to give lodged in my throat.

Right. I had lied to him.

But why?

Because of his two hundred thousand in loans the monthly payment hanging over our heads like a blade.

Because every time he noticed the calluses on my hands, he'd say with such tenderness, "Lora, once I make it, you won't have to work this hard."

I didn't want him to know I was washing people's hair.

I didn't want him to feel like he was dragging me down.

Suddenly I found it all very funny.

For two years, I'd spent over twelve hours a day on my feet. My fingers were waterlogged and peeling. I'd developed cervical problems, tendinitis, low blood sugar I'd been hospitalized more times than I could count.

And he could casually wire two million dollars to another woman without a second thought.

The shop door cracked open. Christine stuck her head in.

"Honey, are you done? The pastries are here they're going to melt if you don't hurry."

Carter glanced at me and lowered his voice. "Don't say a word about today."

The door closed.

I stood alone in the empty salon, staring at the puddle of shampoo foam on the floor.

For a long time.

My phone buzzed.

A message from my manager:

"Lora, you're fired. A customer just complained about your service. Your entire paycheck will be withheld to cover the damages."

"Don't blame me. These people have money and connections. Pack up your things and go now."

I stared at the screen. I couldn't find a single word to say.

Outside the window, the black luxury car slowly pulled away.

The window was half down. I could see Christine leaning on his shoulder, and him bending down to press a kiss to her forehead.

That kiss looked exactly like the ones he used to give me.

By the time I walked out of the salon, it was dark.

The bank sent a payment reminder. Next week: two thousand dollars.

My paycheck would have barely covered it. But now, I had less than five hundred in my account.

I went home.

Carter was standing at my door, holding a bag of fresh mangosteen the kind I'd never let myself buy.

"Lora, you shouldn't be angry with me. I did it for your own good."

I stepped around him and kept my head down.

He sighed.

"I know I've let you down. These two years have been hard on you. But if you just trust me, I'll find you a decent job. Somewhere clean and respectable. You won't have to wash anyone's hair ever again."

Memories flickered past like a slideshow.

My back aching after twelve hours on my feet every day. A strain that never healed.

The day I collapsed and couldn't get up off the floor, the only thing running through my mind was: I can't afford to be hurt. If something happens to me, Carter is finished.

"Lora, I love you. Why else would I leave Christine to come find you? Isn't that enough?"

"You need to understand my situation. I wasn't trying to deceive you. If you had my status and my position in this world, you would've kept it hidden too. Think about it if I'd told you from the start that I was the CEO of the Carter Group, would you have treated me the same way? You would've been after my money and my name."

He said all of this with complete sincerity.

As if he had spent two years lying to me, and somehow that was my fault.

He held out a business card.

A company address.

"Come find me here tomorrow."

My tears were pooling at the edges of my eyes. I bit down hard on my lip and held them in.

The next day, I went anyway.

I knew how wrong it was. I knew what kind of person he was. But I'd borrowed two hundred thousand dollars to pay off his debts.

If he walked away, I had no way to repay it.

The loan sharks had made it clear: if I couldn't pay, they'd take something else instead.

I didn't let myself think about what that meant.

The Carter Group.

The most impressive office tower in the city center.

Twelfth floor. Human Resources.

A middle-aged woman in glasses looked me up and down. "Lora?"

She pushed her frames up and her voice came out with an unmistakable edge of contempt. "Mr. Carter already briefed us. We're placing you in a janitorial position. Here's your badge. Report at seven tomorrow morning. You'll be responsible for floors eighteen through twenty."

Janitorial.

I thought I'd heard her wrong.

"He said... janitorial?"

"What, too good for it?" The woman gave a short, cold laugh. "No degree, no skills. You should be grateful we're giving you anything at all. Mr. Carter specifically requested this for you. Otherwise, do you think we'd just take anyone off the street?"

I gripped the badge so hard my nails pressed into the plastic.

First day on the job.

I showed up in a cleaning uniform, pushing a supply cart down the hallway, mopping the floor.

When I passed the elevators, the doors opened.

Christine stepped out on Carter's arm designer everything, ten-centimeter heels.

She spotted me and blinked. "Lora? What are you doing here?"

She turned to Carter. "You got her a job?"

Carter's face was unreadable. "You kept saying you felt bad for her. Janitorial is all she qualifies for."

That afternoon, I was assigned to clean Carter's office.

I followed behind with my cart.

His office was on the top floor floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the entire city.

When I pushed the door open, what I saw nearly made me sick.

Christine was lounging on the couch with her legs crossed.

"Sorry to bother you, Lora. Be a dear and clean up for us."

Carter sat behind his desk and didn't even look up.

I got down on my knees and started wiping the floor with a cloth.

The things I was wiping up clung to the rag. My eyes burned.

I was his girlfriend.

How could he make me clean up after him and another woman?

Christine suddenly spoke. "Carter, maybe give her a better position? Janitorial feels a little..."

"She can't do anything." Carter's voice was flat. "She's barely fit to sweep floors. Giving her this job was already more than enough."

His words hit like something sharp driven straight into my chest.

I kept my head down, finished the last section of floor, and walked out with my cart.

The moment the door closed behind me, my tears finally broke loose.

It was almost the end of my shift. I was still cleaning the hallway windows.

Christine appeared behind me. "Lora, did you see my gold bracelet anywhere?"

I turned around. Her wrist was bare.

"No. I haven't seen it."

"That's strange, it was just here." She frowned. "Carter gave me that bracelet. It's really important to me."

She started searching the hallway checked the trash bin, looked through the break room. Nothing.

Then she looked at me.

"Lora, let me see your bag."

I stiffened. "What?"

"I think you stole my bracelet."

"I didn't!" I felt a rush of panic. "I've been washing windows the whole time. I never went anywhere near you."

"Then show me your bag. If you didn't take it, I'll apologize."

I had nothing to hide.

I opened my bag and held it out.

She rummaged through it. From the innermost pocket, she pulled out a gold bracelet.

"That's" My eyes went wide. "That's impossible. I never touched that."

Christine held the bracelet and her eyes went red. "Lora, how could you steal from me? Carter gave me this. It means everything to me."

"I didn't! I really didn't!" My mind was racing, and then a detail came back to me. "You picked up my bag earlier at the elevator. You said my hands were full with the cart and you'd carry it for me. You must have put it in there then and forgotten."

Christine tilted her head with wide, innocent eyes. "When did I ever carry your bag?"

"At lunch"

"Lora." She cut me off. Her tone changed. It went cold. "I never touched your bag. Are you sure you're not confused?"

A chill moved through my whole body.

Carter walked out of his office and saw Christine's red-rimmed eyes. His expression darkened.

"What happened?"

"My bracelet..."

Christine held it up. "Found in Lora's bag."

Carter looked at me. His eyes were like ice.

"It wasn't me. I didn't steal anything. She" I pointed at Christine. My voice was shaking.

"That's enough." Carter took out his phone. "I'm calling the police."

Christine grabbed his arm.

"Don't call the police, Carter. She's so young. A record would ruin her."

He frowned.

Christine thought it over and said:

"Then... make her kneel outside the building. It's busy out there. Until the end of the workday should be enough."

The blood rushed straight to my head.

"What did you just say?"

Christine blinked at me with that same guileless look. "I just want you to learn your lesson. So you don't steal again."

"I didn't steal anything!"

I was almost shouting now. The tears finally came. "Carter, I'm your girlfriend. How can you do this to me?"

The entire hallway went still.

Christine's eyes went wide. She looked at me, then at Carter.

"Girlfriend?" Her voice jumped up an octave. "Carter, she's saying she's your girlfriend?"

The expression on Carter's face shifted several times.

"She's lying."

"Lora, there is nothing between us. You stole. You're fired."

He took out his phone and dialed.

"It's me. I need you to put the word out across the industry. Lora nobody hires her. Nobody."

Then he looked at me.

"Go kneel outside until nine tonight. Otherwise, the consequences will be a lot worse than this."

Christine put on a heartbroken expression.

"Lora, I thought of you as a friend. How could you do this to me? You've really, truly let me down."

It was raining when I knelt outside the building.

People walked past. Some looked with pity. Some with amusement. Some stopped to take pictures for their Instagram.

My knees pressed against the cold marble. My wet pants clung to my skin, cold enough to sting.

But the pain in my knees was nothing compared to what was happening inside my chest.

Carter came through the glass doors with a black umbrella. Christine walked beside him.

He saw me kneeling there. One look and then he turned away fast, like holding his gaze on me even a second longer would somehow dirty his eyes.

The rain got heavier.

Nine o'clock finally came.

I pushed myself up against the wall. My knees had gone numb. My calves were swollen and bruised.

I made my way home one step at a time.

Three kilometers. It took me an hour and a half.

I collapsed onto the floor, soaked through.

Carter's calls came one after another.

I never picked up. He kept calling.

Third call. Fourth. Fifth.

What could he possibly have to say to me?

I didn't want to hear it. I was afraid to hear it.

I switched my phone to silent and tossed it aside.

About fifteen minutes later, it buzzed.

A text.

From Carter: Two hundred thousand. I'll have someone deliver it tomorrow. We're done.

We're done.

I stared at those two words on the screen. I wanted to cry but couldn't.

What gave him the right to call us done?

But I had no energy left to fight it.

I really had nothing left.

The next morning, someone knocked on my door.

I thought it was the money Carter had promised.

I opened it. It was Christine.

She was wearing a cream-colored trench coat, a sleek leather case in her hand, smiling at me brightly.

"Morning, Lora."

I watched her carefully. "What do you want?"

She let herself in without being asked, looked around my small, worn-out apartment, and made a little sound of disdain.

"A place like this. How sad."

"What do you want?"

She turned around, set the case on the table, and opened it.

Inside were stacks of cash.

"Two hundred thousand, from Carter. He asked me to bring it."

She smiled. "Except I told him you already received it."

I froze.

"And then I told him you took the money straight to a casino and lost every cent."

Her smile widened. "Carter absolutely despises gamblers. Right now, he thinks you're disgusting. Isn't that hilarious?"

Everything fell into place.

"You"

"I've known about you for a long time," she said, cutting me off, casually examining her freshly done nails. "I knew from the beginning that Carter was playing broke and dating you. Did you think you were keeping a secret? I knew everything."

"I just didn't want him staying connected to you. So I took care of it. Pretty clever plan, right?"

My whole body was trembling. I grabbed my phone and called Carter.

He answered.

"Lora."

His voice was as cold and hard as stone in a freezer.

"I never thought you were a gambler. Gamblers are the one thing I can't stand. Good thing I hid who I was otherwise a woman like you would've drained everything I had."

"Carter, I never gambled!"

"Don't bother explaining."

He cut me off.

"You took the money. You lost it yourself. There's nothing left between us."

"Don't call me again."

Click.

I called back. It didn't go through.

He'd blocked me.

Christine clapped her hands together lightly and called toward the door.

"Come in."

Several men filed into the room.

My stomach dropped.

The loan sharks.

The one in front looked me over with a slow, ugly smile.

"Since you can't pay the money, you'll just have to pay another way. Don't worry. We'll be gentle."

I backed into the corner. I was shaking.

They moved toward me.

I fought. I screamed.

Then my phone rang.

Christine bent down and picked it up off the floor.

"Oh, it's Carter calling. But you're a little busy right now. What a shame."

She hit accept and set the phone on the table. Speakerphone.

One of the men grabbed me deliberately hard.

I couldn't stop the cry that tore out of me.

The man in front laughed. "Don't be scared, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you."

On the other end of the line, Carter's breath caught.

"Lora, you really are something. I actually feel sorry I ever knew you. Any man will do, huh?"

The call ended.

He would never speak to me again. I knew it.

"See? Now he really is disgusted by you."

My tears had run dry.

The men in the floral shirts and their friends went about their business.

I don't know how long it lasted.

An hour. Two hours. Maybe an entire day.

All I know is that eventually they were gone.

The room was destroyed.

My body was covered in wounds.

Blood everywhere.

I lay on the cold floor and stared at the crack in the ceiling.

It ran from the corner of the wall all the way to the light fixture, like a dried-up riverbed.

I thought about two years ago, the day I first moved into this apartment.

Carter had come to help me move in. He looked at that crack in the ceiling and said, "What a dump. Once I start making real money, I'll buy you a proper place."

I slowly got up and walked to the window.

It was open. The wind came in cool and easy.

I looked down.

Eighteenth floor.

That would be enough.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

The wind roared past my ears.

And then there was nothing.

"Carter. Now we really are done."