4. Amy

4

The throaty roar of a motorcycle speeding by has my head snapping up to look out the window, instead of listening to the older man who's order I'm supposed to be taking. When I see that it's just some long haired old man on a Harley, I force my attention back to my customer.

It's been almost a month since Mr. Bacon-Burger started coming into the diner every afternoon to ask me out on a date. Now every throaty engine that passes has me conditioned to the sound of his fancy yellow sport bike.

Get over it, Amy, I tell myself for the millionth time. Guys like that aren't looking for down-on-their-luck single moms with a minivan full of baggage. Which is why I turn him down.

Every. Single. Time.

Snapping my notebook shut, I smile at the old man and promise to have his food out to him shortly. It's almost closing time, and he'll be my last customer for the night, besides the woman who I've been loading up on coffee at the bar. She's closer to my age and has been on her phone the whole time making me wonder what would bring her here to drink bad diner coffee just to sit on her phone.

After I drop my ticket off with the kitchen, I grab the coffee pot and make my way behind the counter.

"Want another refill? Or are you ready for the bill?" I ask her.

The woman's head snaps up and she looks around like she forgot where she was at. She's lovely. With a rich brown complexion and long straight black hair that makes me think she could be indigenous. Her eyes are dark and wide set, her nose is straight and she's got the kind of full lips I've always wished for.

"Woops. I didn't realize how late it was." We both look at her mug that hasn't been touched since the last time I refilled it. "I'll take the bill, please. Sorry for taking up this spot for so long."

I wave my hand, dismissing her worry as I type her order into the register. "Don't worry about it."

When I slide her bill across the bar, she reaches out with a speed that startles me. Long brown fingers wrap around my wrist and when I look up at her, she has a serious expression pinching her beautiful features.

"I've been trying to think of how to bring this up to you, without sounding creepy or out of line," she says. Her grip on me is stronger than I expect when I try to pull my hand away. "I overheard your conversation earlier."

My heart lurches in my chest with sadness as well as embarrassment. I thought I was being quiet when Chad called me. Then Bruce had to put in his two cents about taking personal calls during business time, even though I was technically on a break. I swear, sometimes I wonder if they're both in together to make my already difficult life a truly living hell.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken that call. My ex?—"

The girl shakes her head and waves away my concern. "You don't need to explain or apologize. In fact, I'm hoping that I can help you."

I look around the diner. My only customer is patiently waiting for his food and Bruce is back in his office, probably playing online poker. The woman still has her fingers wrapped around my wrist and I lean in, propping my elbows on the bar. "I'm listening."

She reaches into her back pocket with her free hand and pushes a small white business card across the Formica bar top.

"Once a month there is an auction." When I start to pull away, she holds me in place. "Hear me out first. Let me give you all the information and then you can make your decision."

She has the sincerest look on her face. A face that at first looked like she's never had a struggle in her life, but now… I notice there are shadows in her eyes that someone so young shouldn't have.

The same could be said about you…

I glance around once more and then lean forward on my elbows again. "Okay."

"My name is Yesenia, and I'm part of an underground society that helps women just like you. Women who have no way out of their situations. The auction I told you about, has a starting bid of one million dollars and you'll receive half of the winnings. Tax free and untraceable."

My mouth falls open. That's life changing money. A half million dollars would be more than enough to take Chad back to court and get him out of our lives.

"And what will I be auctioning?" I force myself to ask, even though… I'm pretty sure I know. What else would someone bid so much money on?

Yesenia's eyes are locked with mine. "Your freedom, in exchange for one night. Just a single night, that you won't remember."

I open my mouth to decline, but she continues before I have a chance to speak. Assuring me that I won't he hurt. That those bidding have been vetted. I'll be given a contraceptive shot and an amnesiac and when I wake the next morning my payment will already be in my bank account.

"Imagine, being able to have a means to take care of your daughter the way she deserves. Being able to live your life without the constant worry over what your ex will think. To be able to take him back to court and not have to deal with his bullying ever again." She pushes the card further toward me. "Think about it. The next auction is in two weeks. When you've made your decision, call the number on this card any time before then."

I'm still staring at her when her fingers slowly unwrap from around my wrist, and she sets several large bills on the counter between us. It's far mor than her coffee cost.

"You said I wouldn't remember?" I swallow thickly around the words. "How…how do I remember about the… the money?" I should be asking her how she knows so much about me? About my situation with Chad. I shouldn't really be considering doing this.

"The amnesiac at the end of the night," the bar stool squeaks as she slides off it. "It creates a sort of short-term memory loss, so you'll remember everything leading up to that night, and after, but not during."

Am I really thinking about going through with this?

"Think on it," she tells me once more and then I watch her walk out the door.

I look down at the card sitting there. It's plain and white, but it might as well be a bomb after what she just told me.

Slowly, I pick it up and turn it over. Typed in black is a phone number. Nothing else.

"Orders up!" the cook shouts through the window and I about jump out of my skin.

Shoving the card and cash into my pocket, I hurry to grab my customers food. The rest of the night goes by in a blur of forced smiles and mopping. Then I'm back at home, sitting in the middle of my lumpy bed holding the card in one hand and my phone in the other.

Would this really be worth it? I know exactly what Chad would accuse me of if I suddenly came into a fortune. He'd call me a whore, and for once he'd be right.

I think about what kinds of men would be at an auction like that. My mind conjures up fat businessmen who probably need to medicate before they can get it up. Could I go through with it?

You fucked Chad for years, and he's the worst kind of small-dicked pig.

I flip the card through my fingers. One night for half a million dollars, maybe more.

And no memory.

This is the most insane thing I've ever considered doing.

I turn the card over again and type the phone number into my phone.