Page 4 of Deserving Cora
Thosewords didn’t hurt. None of them were a new insult from Eleanor. She’d been spouting the same crap for years. Besides, Corawasweird, plain enough to probably be considered ugly by a lot of people, and she’d been pathetic more often than she wanted to admit over the years.
“Why are you here, Eleanor?” she asked. “It’s not like you give a shit about anyone other than yourself. Homeless veterans, our military heroes addicted to drugs and alcohol, needing psychiatric help? That’s not your jam. I can’t imagine you wanting to givemoneyto those people.”
Eleanor tittered. “You’re right…for once. I don’t give a shit about them. They’re all a bunch of fucking losers, using their so-called PTSD as a crutch to get free money and services from the government. If they’d just get jobs like the rest of us, they wouldn’t need a handout.”
“As if you have a job,” Cora couldn’t help but mutter.
“Bitch, I’m an influencer. I have more followers than you could even imagine. Do you know how much money I make every day? With every video I post, I could buy whatever hellhole you live in,” Eleanor said with a sneer.
Thing1 and Thing2 next to her nodded in unison.
“That’s not a job,” Cora informed her.
“The hell it’s not!” Eleanor protested. “I work damn hard to be beautiful. Witty. Fun. Three things youaren’tand will never be.”
“You’re right. I’d rather be a good person. Charitable. A loyal friend. Someone people can rely on. You aren’t any ofthosethings.”
“As if I care,” Eleanor said with a flick of her head.
Cora was tired. And done trading barbs with Eleanor. The woman wouldn’t change. Ever. And Cora needed to figure out what her next steps would be. See if she could get an inexpensive plane ticket to New Mexico, find a cheap hotel near The Refuge, and figure out how to get on the property and come up with some way to get ten minutes to talk to one of the owners.
“Right,” Cora said with a shrug. “Whatever. At least your ten thousand bucks will be helpful, even if your heart is as black as your soul.”
“So naïve,” Scarlett said with a giggle.
“Stupid,” Valentina agreed.
Cora frowned. “About what?”
“I’m not giving anyone money.”
“But you have to. You won the bid,” Cora said adamantly.
“So? No one can force me to pay. I just wanted to outbidyou. No harm, no foul. Besides, if you think I’d be seen anywhere near that freak with the tattoos, you’re crazy. No way would I sully my reputation by being seen out and about with someone who looks like a gang member. Nope. I’ll just push out a few tears and act confused when I can’t find my checkbook. Then I’ll ignore their efforts to collect the money. It’s not as if they’ll even use it for anything they said they would. It’ll go right into some CEO’s pocket.”
Cora saw red. What a fuckingbitch. She wanted to march over to the table where the money was being collected and give them her six thousand to try to cover for what Eleanor refused to pay…but she needed every cent of her money to get to New Mexico.
“You’re going straight to hell,” Cora blurted. “And that man on the stage is worth ahundredtimes more than you. He risked his life for his country. Put himself in harm’s way. Suffered to try to help others. What haveyouever done for anyone other than yourself? Not a damn thing. You judge everyone by their looks, when you’re the ugliest person who’s ever lived. His tattoos, beard, and long hair don’t make him a gang member or a violent person, just as yourlackof tattoos doesn’t make you an upstanding citizen. Personally? I think his tattoos are sexy as hell. They tell me he’s a man who doesn’t give a shit about what other people think. People likeyou, who look down on him because of a little ink on his skin. You’d sullyhisreputation if he was ever seen with you.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dumb bitch, Cora. You have no idea how things work in my world. Go back to the gutter where you belong.”
Cora’s fists clenched. It had been a long time since she’d gotten into a physical altercation with anyone, and she was itching to punch this bitch in the face. But it wouldn’t change anything. In many ways, Eleanor was right. She didn’t belong here. In her cheap dress and shoes, with an actual soul.
There was so much she wanted to say but nothing would make a difference. Eleanor and her silly friends were who they were. Mean, entitled bitches who truly thought the world revolved around them. They wouldn’t change, especially not because of anything she had to say.
With Lara’s words about rising above those who seek to bring her down to their level ringing in her ears, Cora turned to leave.
Only to stop in her tracks when she saw two men standing about ten feet away.
She recognized them immediately. It was Bryson, the man she’d unsuccessfully bid on, and Callen Kaufman, who, according The Refuge website, went by the nickname Owl.
She stared at them in confusion. What were they doing? And how long had they been standing there?
Then she blushed, remembering that she was in her ratty jeans and sweatshirt.
Eleanor turned to see what she was staring at, and Cora actually felt the shift in the woman. Her mask was back on and she smiled at the men, jutting a hip seductively.
“Oh! Hi, gentlemen. I’m so excited about our date,” she simpered.
