The Accidental Wealth

Jackson struggled to adjust his tie, the smooth fabric eluding his grasp like a defiant serpent. He glanced at his reflection, wincing at the crooked knot that resembled a half-strangled pretzel. Mornings were never his strong suit. At twenty-eight years old, he still struggled with the simple task.

"Babe, you haven't said anything about the money I asked for." Veronica's voice floated from the bed, a mix of honey and vinegar.

He froze, tie dangling forgotten. "Money?" The word tumbled out of his mouth like a stray pebble.

"For the cocktail dress? Remember? Mia's birthday party?"

His brain scrambled to catch up. Right. The party. The dress. The money. He'd hoped she'd forgotten about that particular request.

"Ah, yeah. About that..." He turned, meeting Veronica's expectant gaze. She lounged on the bed, still in her pajamas, looking like a cat waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. He was definitely the mouse in this scenario.

"Well?" She arched an eyebrow, a move that could make grown men weep. Jackson, however, had built up a slight immunity over the years.

He cleared his throat. "Look, Ver, I don't have the funds for luxury products right now. Maybe you could, I don't know, get a knockoff?"

Veronica's face went through a series of expressions faster than a slideshow on crack. Surprise, disbelief, anger, and finally, a forced neutrality that was somehow worse than outright rage.

"A knockoff," she repeated, her voice flatter than week-old soda.

He nodded, trying to look anywhere but at her. The ceiling suddenly became fascinating. Was that a cobweb in the corner? He should really clean that.

"You want me to wear a fake to Mia's party."

"It's not that bad," he said, attempting to salvage the situation. "Some of those knockoffs are pretty good these days. You can barely tell the difference."

Veronica's laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. "Oh, honey. Trust me, people can tell."

"Come on, it's just a dress," Jackson said, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Veronica's eyes narrowed. "Just a dress? Just a dress? Do you have any idea how important this party is?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. He vaguely recalled Veronica mentioning Mia's new promotion and important people attending, but the details were fuzzy. He'd been in the middle of a particularly intense level of Candy Crush then.

"It's... very important?" he ventured.

"It's not just important, it's crucial," Veronica said, sitting up straighter. "Mia's new boss will be there. This could be my chance to network, maybe even land a better job myself."

He blinked. "And you need an expensive dress for that?"

"First impressions matter, Jackson. You don't show up to a high-class party looking like you shop at the clearance rack."

He glanced down at his suit, which he'd proudly snagged from a discount store. "What's wrong with clearance racks?"

"Nothing, if you're going to a backyard barbecue. But this is different. This is about making connections, opening doors."

"Can't you open doors in a regular dress?"

The look she gave him could have curdled milk. "You just don't get it, do you?"

He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the careful styling he'd spent ten minutes on. "I get that it's important to you. I just don't get why it has to cost so much."

"Fine," Veronica said, suggesting it was anything but. "I'll figure something out."

He knew that tone. It was the same one she'd used when he'd forgotten their anniversary last year. He'd ended up sleeping on the couch for a week.

"Look, maybe we can find a compromise," he said, trying to salvage the situation. "What if we look for something on sale? Or maybe you could borrow a dress from one of your friends?"

Veronica's lips thinned. "Right, because nothing says 'take me seriously' like wearing someone else's clothes."

"I'm just trying to help," Jackson said, frustration creeping into his voice.

"Alright," Veronica said, her tone eerily calm. "I'll figure it out myself."

He knew he should feel relieved, but something about her easy capitulation set off alarm bells in his head. He'd known Veronica long enough to recognize when she was plotting something.

"You're sure?" he asked cautiously.

"Absolutely. Don't worry about it."

Those words, coming from Veronica, were about as comforting as a shark telling a fish not to worry about its teeth.

He glanced at his watch, realizing he was running late. "Okay, well, I've got to go. We'll talk more later?"

Veronica waved him off. "Sure, sure. Have a good day at work, honey."

As Jackson hurried out the door, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just narrowly avoided a landmine, only to step onto a bigger one. Whatever Veronica was planning, he had a sinking feeling his wallet wouldn't like it.

He stepped into the office building, his mind still buzzing with the morning's argument. The familiar scent of coffee and printer toner greeted him as he approached his desk. He plopped down in his chair, ready to dive into work and forget about Veronica's dress drama.

He reached for his mouse and clicked to wake up the computer. The login screen appeared, and he typed in his username and password with the practiced ease of someone who'd done it a thousand times before.

Error: The username does not exist.

Jackson blinked, wondering if he'd somehow forgotten how to spell his name overnight. He tried again, this time paying extra attention to each keystroke.

Error: Username does not exist.

"What the hell?" he muttered, drawing a curious glance from his co-workers.

"Everything okay there, Jacko?" a co-worker asked, peering over his cubicle wall like a nosy gopher.

"Yeah, just... computer issues," Jackson replied, not wanting to admit he couldn't log into his account.