Free Clutches and Curses by Dorothy Howell Page A

dream? No, I didn’t remember anything. Must have been—
    Voices rumbled in the hallway.
    Okay, no big deal, I decided, and lay down again. Just a couple of guests coming in late.
    I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

C HAPTER 7
    I hit the breakfast buffet bright and early the next morning, armed with a hearty appetite and an awesome Marc Jacobs purse. Maya noticed it right away. Yesterday, I could tell we’d be friends. This just proved it.
    I didn’t see Maya as my absolute-forever-no-matter-what best friend—that distinction still belonged to Marcie—and she didn’t seem like the kind of friend you’d call when you were upset and just wanted somebody to agree with you regardless . But she’d definitely be one of those friends you knew would have your back if a bitch-fight broke out at a party or something.
    â€œIt’s fabulous,” she said, and rushed over as I helped myself to a muffin. She gave my handbag the moment of silence it deserved, then said, “As soon as I have my degree and get my bakery business up and running, I’m going to get me one of those—maybe two. No, make that a dozen.”
    â€œWhy stop at a dozen?” I asked.
    I wasn’t joking.
    Maya got a faraway look in her eyes and her lip curled up. I could see her determination growing.
    â€œYeah,” she muttered. “Hell, yeah.”
    I might have to bump her up to absolute-forever-no-matter-what best friend status.
    A dozen or so motel guests were checking out the buffet, filling paper plates, and eating at the tables. Some of them were probably Holt’s employees, in town to work at the new store. I didn’t recognize any of them.
    I grabbed an orange juice and stepped out of the way so Maya and I could continue talking while she kept an eye on the food.
    â€œYou’re really planning to start a bakery after you graduate?” I asked around a mouthful of muffin.
    â€œAnd a catering business so I can expand what I’ve already started,” Maya explained as she wiped down the counter. She rolled her eyes. “If I could get Bradley, the jackass who manages this place, to recommend me to the other Culver Inn motels in town, I could do a lot more business now.”
    â€œYour food is great,” I said, finishing off the muffin. “Why won’t Bradley put the word out for you?”
    â€œBecause he’s a self-centered, thoughtless, self-absorbed idiot,” Maya said.
    From what I’d heard about Bradley, I couldn’t disagree.
    â€œHis family, the Penningtons, own the whole chain. They’re wealthy like you wouldn’t believe,” Maya said. “Anyway, I’m going to have to figure a way to get money for my fall classes somehow.”
    At the mention of money, I mentally shrank back a little. I’d rather not be reminded of my own dismal financial situation. But I pulled myself together for Maya’s sake. That’s what friends do.
    â€œHave you gotten any scholarships?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “Unfortunately for me, I didn’t screw up my life at a young age by getting married or having a baby, nor have I been in rehab or jail. Scholarships for people like me aren’t easy to come by.”
    I knew the feeling. I’d been that route myself.
    â€œCan your family help out?” I asked. I knew my parents would help me—if I asked, which I had no intention of doing.
    â€œMom’s divorced. My dad left us.” Maya said. “I’ve got two younger brothers still living at home, so Mom’s got her hands full just taking care of them. I can’t ask her for anything. It wouldn’t be right.”
    â€œSo you’re doing the student loan thing,” I concluded. “I am, too.”
    I knew she had to be taking that route, same as me. No way could I afford college—and living expenses—any other way. I sure couldn’t get by on the pittance Holt’s