Cheated Hearts

"Please let me get this loan. I know I can do it. I absolutely can!"

The woman reminded me of my mom. She had brown eyes that were leaking with heartbreak and anticipation. I looked away. She wanted a business loan, but we weren't sure if she would pull through. I watched the APPROVED stamp in my hands, felt the heaviness of it twirl in my fingers. I put it down and looked straight at the lady, leaned over my desk and whispered in a pleading voice, "I don't know if you are able to pay this off. With your salary and the instability of a new business, it's risky."

Her name was Eva Ports and she leaned in again, "Son. You can bet everything you have I can take this loan. Everything."

I leaned back in my chair and appraised her again. She even smelled like roses like my mom. I straightened my tie as I looked at the forms on the desk in front of me.

"Okay. But your ass as well as my ass is on the line here, Mrs. Ports."

"Your ass will be fine!" she said a little too loudly with so much happiness that tears had formed in her sage eyes.

People stared at us; Gary gave me a quizzical look as my customer had just reassured me that my ass would be fine in her hands.

I signed the forms and shook my head as I stamped a great red APPROVED on her paper. As I handed back the papers with an unsure grin, she leaped into my arms in joy and gave me a great kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, young man! God bless you!"

My eyes widened as she skipped away; the entire bank now watched curiously. I just went back to my computer and played Solitaire till everyone turned away.

______________________________________________________________________________

I walked from the subway back to my apartment building. I was thinking about Eva Ports and whether or not her bakery would work out when I felt someone pull me from the street. Small pale arms, but strong.

I cursed and barely got a glimpse of my building, but soon was pulled to the side of another building and slammed against the bricks.

I looked up and there she was. I barely recognized her red hair. She had a few freckles sprinkled across her nose and her skin seemed to glow in the moonlight from above.

Her bright brown eyes looked at me for a moment, digesting my suit and tie. I suddenly felt like a dweeb.

"You're new aren't you?" she asked inquisitively.

Say something witty.

"Yes." You go, witty Keaton.

"I was wondering who you were. You kind of dress like my dad. I like it. I'm Harper Summers," she said merrily, giving me a grin.

"I'm Keaton Miller," I said back, kind of embarrassed of how boring I probably seemed already.

She stared at me eagerly, "I need you," she whispered.

Okay, this girl was crazy.

"Could you maybe release me? I don't appreciate being ambushed on my way into the building."

She let go.

"Okay thanks," I muttered and made to get away from her.

"But I need you... It'll take a minute, two tops!" she cried almost impatiently, like she had never been disobeyed before, like I was a puppy or something and that only pissed me off.

"Well, looks like you have gotten along just fine without me, my dear. You don't need me."

"No! You see, I have this bet with my roommates. And now..." She looked at me with wide eyes, "You're involved."

I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, you can roll your eyes. I would too, but this is life or death here," she muttered.

Her big chocolate eyes seemed to glisten with integrity. I found myself sighing, "What is it you want me to do?"

"Okay, so..."

______________________________________________________________________________

"I'm not doing this. Fuck no."

Harper dragged me along the flight of steps. Her tiny body whizzed ahead most of the time, like it could barely contain her spirit.

"You'll be fine. Trust!" she laughed back.

"I don't trust strangers. That's, like, personal safety number one."

She stopped smiling and put her hands on her hips.

"Do I look like I can hurt you?" she asked.

I looked down at her. She was wearing a pink eyelet dress and wore a long pearl necklace that held a pendant of an owl. She also smelled like flowers... and she was probably five feet tall. I could take her down.

"No, you don't. You actually look pretty puny," I teased.

"Shut up, Keaton."

We made it up to the sixth floor, past my apartment, (I looked at my door longingly as we passed it) and then found her apartment. The front door was covered in photos and magazine cutouts. I saw a Polaroid of Harper twisted around a guy, giving him a kiss on the cheek, another of her cut out to look like she was standing next to John Lennon.

"Okay, when I enter, you know what to say," she whispered. I nodded and she burst into the door.

"Guys! I'm home!" she cried.

I waited a couple seconds after like she had said and came in too.

"Harper, darling!" I called through like Ricky Ricardo.

"Yes, Keaton!" she cried.

Her roommates, a boy and another girl seemed astounded by my presence. I found myself feeling like I should kick myself. Harper was in the living room waiting for me.

"You are the most wonderful-" I read my lines off the palm of my hand –" gorgeous bitch on the planet. I want you, " I struggled with her smudged handwriting, "...to have my babies," I finished monotonously; I couldn't believe I had said that.

There was a long moment of expectant silence and then her girl roommate, who had short blond hair and a lip ring screamed, "I can't believe you did it!"

Harper proceeded to feign shining her nails on the collar of her dress.

The guy, who I recognized as the guy who had run after her on the first day of my job, looked shocked too.

"Holy shit, dude. You probably need a drink now, right?" he muttered.

Harper laughed as I nodded my head fervently. He pulled me in, this time I saw he was wearing a peculiar scarf around his neck, it seemed knitted and had a pattern that looked like goldfish.

"I'm Rory," he said, smiling and leading me into the kitchen. I had been so humiliated by their little bet (which was that Harper could never get the new guy in the building who dresses like Clark Gable to praise Harper as the 'most gorgeous bitch on the planet') that I hadn't really noticed the apartment.

It was like a sheik's tent with red and plum lighting, instruments of all types and strange sculptures were scattered everywhere. I also noticed a dusty Christmas tree in the corner of the kitchen. It was September.

"I'm sorry about the bet, man," Rory said apologetically, "We really thought you'd say no."

"Uh, thanks," I muttered, feeling more and more like an idiot because I had said yes.

"But once Harpie starts, she can't really stop," Rory explained.

I looked back at the living room and absently reached for the beer Rory handed me as I stared at Harper. She was seated on the couch with her girl roommate; they seemed to be gossiping or something. I took a gulp of my beer and put down my briefcase in order to loosen my navy silk tie. I then picked up the case again and walked through the living room.

"Uh, this was fun and all, but I'd better be going," I said.

Harper stood up and said, "You don't have to go! You haven't even met Reagan yet!" she pointed to her friend on the couch.

Reagan stood up and shook my hand.

"I think it's really sweet what you did for Harper. She's now twenty bucks richer," she said and gave Harper a look.

"Well, she did say it was life or death," I muttered, glaring at the small redhead beside her who now seemed very keen on staring at a poster of Bob Dylan on the wall.

"Well maybe she can walk you back to your apartment," Reagan said, pushing Harper a little with her elbow.

"No, that's fine." I'd had enough of her.

Reagan and Rory both pushed us out the door, screeching things like, "No! We insist!"

Harper seemed a little miffed as they slammed the door in our faces, "Way to be subtle, Reagan! Kicking out your little sister! If you didn't want me there, you could have just said so!" she called. Then she turned to me.

"I'm sorry about Reagan and Rory. They're a couple. I don't think they like that I moved in with them. Well, I mean I think they like me, but they need time to do coupley things I guess."

She was rambling and I took a deeper swig of my beer as I realized she would probably be coming with me.

"Uh, sorry. Sometimes I have a hard time being quiet. And then other times I have a hard time being loud. I dunno."

I gave her a nod and tried to smile, but this girl was neurotic in a way I could not handle.

"Um, so. I'll see you later," Harper said and waved, she dug out a small novel from a pocket in the front of her dress and sank down to the floor, leaning against the door that had just been slammed in our faces. She began to dig through the pages and I quickly saw the tattered title page; it read :Pride and Prejudice.

She looked up at me and gave me a look.

"Uh, good night!" she said nervously.

"You can come with me if you want, you know. I mean, you don't have to wait out here."

She looked hesitant.

"Come on. I have takeout menus and wine. Let's go," I said, already impatient.

"Okay, fine," she muttered.

She stood up and wiped at her dress. As we walked down the single flight of stairs that it took to get to my room, she suddenly stopped, "Uh, you know, Keaton? I'm really thankful you helped me out today but if you're expecting anything sexual in retur-"

"Keep fucking walking, Harper." I cut her off with a stern look.

"Okay, will do." She practically sprinted down.

______________________________________________________________________________

Harper munched quietly on her cold sesame noodles while I took in my beef and broccoli. We were quiet for a while and she sipped some of the white wine from her cup (I didn't have wineglasses therefore we were using the glasses with designs of famous art pieces on them; Harper had the Mona Lisa and I had Starry Night).

"Um," Harper started in a small voice, "So, uh, why did you move here?"

I finished chewing, took a sip of wine and then took off my tie completely and responded with, "I came looking for a job as an economic consultant."

Harper seemed impressed, "That sounds... smart. Did you get a job as an" –she pretended to have a British accent– "Economic consultant?"

I tried to hide my smile from her as I said, "No."

Her laughter wore off, "Oh, I'm sorry," she replied earnestly.

"No, it's okay," I said and reached for my dreaded nametag from the breast pocket of my suit and handed it to her. She took it and inspected it, "You're looking at the new Etson bank employee."

I raised my eyebrows and took another sip of wine, she smiled at my nametag.

"That's neat," she said, grinning brightly.

"No it's not," I said edgily, "It sucks."

"It does not suck!" she said vehemently and frowned at my glum face, "It's –it's awesome!"

"Um, thanks Harper," I said, "I went to four years of college to work as a bank teller. I'm a nobody."

It may have been the amount of alcohol I had consumed or it may have been the way the dim lights of the apartment caught in Harper's hair, but I was saying the words that had reverberated in my mind since the day I had stepped into my shoes at Etson.

"Keaton, we're in the shit. No one can find a decent job. It'll get better and you will be so happy and so glad you went to school. Who gives a fuck if you're a bank teller? You can move up! You know, I had an uncle who was a banker, he made, like, eighty grand a year. I mean, he had been there for twenty years and all but-"

"But I want something... greater," I said quietly.

There was a ringing silence between us.

"Maybe you can be happy... you know, rather than being great," Harper breathed.

Now it was my turn to be astounded. I took another drink.

"Maybe."

She nodded, looking proud of herself and then stood up and stretched.

"Well, I think I should be going. Reagan and Rory will probably let me in now," she stated with a yawn.

"Okay," I yawned back and stood up with her.

"I like your books by the way," Harper said, glancing around the apartment, "Now I know where to come when I need a read."

I laughed, "Sure. Personal library on the fifth floor."

Harper reached for the door knob and looked back at me, "Thanks Keaton."

I nodded.

That night I dreamt of red hair and Moneysaver Accounts.