𝐁𝐮𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 - On Hiatus

10. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

In my 21 years of living, I had never met anyone who banked at Goldmen Soles. It was like it existed in a completely different world from mine; I'd never even heard of them before. Their nearest location was nearly forty minutes away in Century City. When I walked inside the building I could feel all eyes shooting at me, even if for a split second. I stood out like a sore thumb.

"Um, excuse me," a woman in a casual skirt and pressed button-up called out to me, confusion in her voice. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, I'd like to check the balance in my account."

Her nose crinkled slightly and her eyebrows knit. I could tell she had a suspicion about me; like I'd said something off-putting. She looked over me and then gestured me towards a lounge area. "Please have a seat, someone will be with you in a moment."

Looking around the empty lobby and the various employees available, I furrowed my eyebrows. "Uh, okay?"

She doubled down, nodding at the couches. I brushed it off and went to sit down. Suddenly I felt like I was invisible. A handful of people came and went, being assisted and treated like a priority. They were all dressed in business attire and exuded class. Then here I was, in a wrinkled shirt and old jeans.

A part of me felt so uncomfortable, I wanted to stand up and leave out. On the other hand, I knew that's what that snarky bitch wanted. So, after what felt like an hour I decided to go and approach the counter.

"Excuse me," I called out to a small man busying himself on a computer.

He peeked up at me for a split second, then turned his attention back to his computer. "Yes?"

"I'm here to check on the status of my account," I said, irritated.

"Are you..." he trailed off looking me over. "Applying for a position here?"

"No, I have an account here."

"Oh," he said amused. "Why did I hear one of our receptionists tell someone you're here for a job application."

I twisted my face up looking back for her. She was off in a corner laughing and talking with another customer. "I have no idea. I told her I wanted to check my balance."

"Do you have your account number?" He asked, with his face still skewed.

"Not on hand," I sighed.

"Not a problem, go ahead and have a seat and I can look you up. I'll need your debit card, your ID, and the last four of your social," he said in a cool disinterested manner, almost like he expected me not to produce the items.

Taking out my wallet I fished out my ID and the debit card Eleanor gave to me. As soon as he laid eyes on it he perked up, surprised. He turned his entire body to me, seeming a lot more open to assisting me.

I handed him both cards and he held them one beneath the other, seeming to scan every letter and number on each of them. After panning back and forth from my ID to me, he sat them both on the table.

"Mr.Voss, my sincerest apologies. I do not have access to your account, but I can swiftly escort you to my manager's office," he explained.

"Is there a problem?"

"Not at all," he said standing and sliding my cards back to me. "It's just that I do not have the clearance for an account of this magnitude."

Of this magnitude? How much money did she give to me?

Suddenly he began to treat me as if his job depended on respecting me. He circled the counter to meet me and gestured towards the back. "Right this way."