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Chapter 2: Maxing Out Your Card

Author: Orange
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Bella, irritated, slammed the mouse down. Ugh, this client was a nightmare—the wine promotion poster had been revised five times and still wasn't satisfactory! The client, a rather attractive woman, always showed up overdressed and smelling like she'd bathed in perfume, enough to make anyone sneeze. After several interactions, Bella’s four-word summary for her was—beauty without brains, totally clueless about design. But, the customer is always right, even if their taste is all wrong.

Dealing with clueless clients wasn’t new for Bella, but Calvin’s sudden bout of madness had left her too frazzled to handle them. Sighing resignedly, she grabbed the mouse again. Her marriage was teetering on the edge, but she couldn’t afford to lose her job. At that moment, the sound of a swivel chair sliding nearby was followed by a face peeking over the partition. Glancing at her screen, she was somewhat surprised, “You've only changed the background color of the poster all morning? That woman is coming for inspection this afternoon, and you're giving up? Impressive defeatism!”

Bella rolled her eyes, “I’m close to death here, can you say something nice?”

“I’ve always said, go with what’s tacky! The background should be red, bright red! Use the kind with the national flag flying, the national emblem shining, and the Great Wall majestic. Place the wine on top, add a couple of grape bunches with dew on them on the side, slap on a slogan, and done!”

Bella pictured it, noncommittal. After a thought and a push with her feet, sliding her chair back, she whispered, “Fiona, I need to ask you something.”

Fiona wasn’t a Huang nor a manager of any sort; she got her nickname from fooling around on QQ, hence Fiona. Her intrigued by Bella’s secretive manner hoped for some juicy gossip—her favorite. Bella glanced around; although no one seemed to be paying attention, she still felt uneasy and pointed at the computer, “Let's talk on QQ.”

Fiona, disdainful but curious, retreated, yet her voice floated over, “Wanting to distribute yellow (adult content) under the broad daylight, make it clear, I’m not chatting if it’s not yellow.” Before she finished, QQ pinged with a message. Opening the chat, Fiona nearly bit her tongue. The message read—What do you think counts as sexual incompatibility?

That’s yellow enough! She quickly typed back—Are you experiencing incompatibility?

Bella: No!

Fiona: Don’t lie. If it was compatible, you wouldn’t ask. Come on, I have a sexual compatibility quiz here; I'll ask, you answer.

Bella: …

Fiona: How many times a week?

Bella: …

A minute later, Fiona: What, so frequent you can't keep count? Remember to control yourself, wild girl.

Bella frowned deeply, thinking. How often? She had to recall the last time they were intimate—was it two or three months ago? Hesitating, she typed: Not frequent, but quality is alright, I guess…

Fiona: By the way you say it, sounds ominous. Men are always eager unless there’s an issue. Your husband... Hmm? Catching it early for treatment is key; don’t shy away from seeking help. Remember, nights are as long as life itself; it’s hard to pass the time without doing something.

Bella: Long my foot! He works overtime at least three days a week, not getting home until 10!

Fiona: Are you sure it's just overtime?

Bella had never doubted this before. Calvin's career was on the rise; of course, he was busy. But since he proposed divorce, she began to question—was all his effort for a mountain of gold or a mountain of silver? It seemed it wasn’t a sudden whim for divorce; she had been naïve not to think deeper. Now, she braced for the worst, typing rapidly: Okay, truth be told, I suspect he has someone else.

Fiona, taken aback, only asked in jest, not expecting real suspicion. Jumping up, she peeked over the partition, “You’re not joking, right?”

Without looking up from her furious typing, Bella heard the QQ ping again—Last week, he proposed divorce citing sexual incompatibility.

Fiona, eyes wide and mind in disarray, muttered, “Bella, your husband is bold…”

Bella didn’t want a divorce, even if Fiona’s quiz indicated incompatibility. It wasn’t that she was particularly fond of Calvin—he was dull, and aside from his looks, there wasn’t much she liked about him. Ah, no! His dullness and busyness meant he was almost invisible, which Bella found liberating. Think about it, a handsome husband providing strong financial support and lacking presence—how could she let go?

In summary, she didn’t love Calvin, but couldn’t bear to lose him either. Who would support her for life if they divorced? She couldn’t let go of such a golden sponsor, even if hanging on felt like a tug-of-war. With the way he was stabbing her, she feared she might just agree to divorce in a fit of anger.

Then she remembered the credit card Calvin had given her, which she had barely used, adhering to her principle of spending her own money when she had it. Today, she decided to break that rule—saving him money would only benefit the other woman, right? Humph! She intended to max out his card, leaving him broke, unable to woo anyone else.

Fiona was lucky to participate in this spendthrift campaign, watching as Bella dragged her straight into the city’s most upscale mall, her heart racing. They were just small-timers with modest salaries; what could they afford here? She hadn’t met Bella’s husband or known what he did for a living, but she doubted he was rich enough for this kind of splurge.

The mall’s air conditioning gave Fiona a chill. She grabbed Bella, “Don’t go overboard; you’re spending joint assets here.”

Bella looked around, deciding where to start, “Let’s max out this card and go home; I can’t let that vixen have the last laugh.”

Fiona, seeing Bella’s sliver of sanity, didn’t argue. Looking around cluelessly, she asked, “Where do we start?” She only visited the mall during sales, and could count on one hand the number of times she had bought anything. Everything here was priced high enough to bankrupt her.

Bella thought for a moment, “Clothes!” She usually shopped sales too, but thinking about how she had scrimped and saved, only to benefit the other woman, fueled her rage. She was determined to reclaim what she had lost over the years.

She shopped without blinking, the phone pinging non-stop with transaction notifications. Fiona, heart pounding, estimated at least fifty thousand spent. Would her husband have a heart attack? Laden with bags, Bella’s vengeance seemed appeased.

“Let’s call it a day,” Fiona suggested. “Wrecking the finances is a marathon, not a sprint. Let’s grab a bite and head home.” They couldn’t carry any more.

Bella agreed but

with a thought, “The card’s not maxed out yet. Let’s check out the jewelry.”

Jewelry? Fiona was stunned. A woman scorned knows no bounds, it seemed today wouldn’t end until they were bankrupt.

The saleslady at the jewelry counter greeted them warmly, showering Bella with compliments before making recommendations. These clerks could gauge a customer’s spending ability by their appearance and tailored their suggestions accordingly. Bella glanced around and pointed at a ruby necklace, “I want to try this.”

The saleslady hesitated; the necklace wasn’t cheap. Fiona glimpsed the price tag—ninety-eight thousand? Alarmed, she whispered, “Bella, are you sure? Don’t make your husband sell his organs.”

Bella’s eyes nearly glowed red at the rubies, “Selling his body should suffice, not yet to the point of selling organs.” Calvin’s looks wouldn’t leave him wanting for sugar mamas.

The necklace, naturally exquisite at ninety-eight thousand, saw Bella reaching for the card, thinking this would do it. Indeed, the saleslady informed her with a subtle smile that the credit card was over the limit. Fiona tugged at her sleeve, advising, “Let it go, we can come back another time. Let’s go.”

Bella was determined, ready to choose something cheaper rather than let Calvin off easy. Just as she was about to speak, her phone rang—Calvin calling. She sneered, impatient now? Swiping to answer, she wondered if he was fuming. Instead, Calvin’s tone was as neutral as a weather forecast, “Wait, I’ll increase your limit. Is two hundred thousand enough?”

“…” Bella was stunned by his response, seething with anger. What was he thinking? That this would make her agree to a divorce? No way! The phone’s volume was loud enough for Fiona to hear everything, leaving her grinding her teeth too. What a model ex-husband, so generous even when planning a divorce, not money-burning, what is?

Calvin waited for Bella’s response, “How much do you need?”

Bella took a deep breath, “Don’t think this will appease me! I won’t let you and your little vixen have your way!” She hung up without waiting for his reaction. The room fell silent, the saleslady and Fiona exchanging looks, wordless. After a pause, the phone rang again, still Calvin.

“Hello…” Bella’s tone was exasperated, her revenge plan foiled by his indifference, even eager to finance her spree. Ridiculous!

Unfazed by her irritation, Calvin’s voice remained steady, “The limit’s now three hundred thousand.” Bella heard the rustle of him gathering his things, then him offering, “I’m off work. Need me to pick you up?”

Bella frowned, “Calvin, why the pretense at this point? If it weren’t for the divorce, I might’ve thought you loved me deeply. What’s the reality?”

Calvin, grabbing his coat, headed out, “I just hope we can part on good terms. Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I’m with a friend, no need to come!” Bella scoffed, no kneeling for a proposal, but now seemingly eager to kneel for a divorce! He requests, she’ll make him regret it!

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