This is the first story in the Charleston & Hamburg series.

***

It was humid in Charleston, and unseasonably warm for the last day of the year.

Voices and cigarette smoke wafted from the corner of Church and Market, interrupted by the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels on the paved streets.

The air conditioning did not work in the small second story apartment on Pickney Street and the air was heavy with the smell of equine sweat.

Kirby contemplated suicide as an alternative to facing the near year.

His girlfriend of 10 weeks had dumped him, and earlier in the day, the ice cream shop where he worked, closed for the last time.

He took a drag on the joint – the last one he had – and contemplated the end.

***

Priscilla, the ex-girlfriend of 10 weeks, was sipping champagne with a guy she met yesterday – and wondering how many zeros were associated with the credit limit on his Platinum Visa.

There was no question that she would let him sleep with her as soon as the ball dropped, but his prospective wealth figured heavily into how much enthusiasm she would put into the process.

She figured a Platinum Visa must be worth a 100 grand, and she was willing to put up with a certain amount of kink for those digits.

His family owned a boutique lending institution in a small office on Broad Street, specializing in financing short term import and export and other trade loans, and associated letters of credit. She didn’t know exactly what that entailed, but his title, in gold lettering on a simple but elegant business card read: Vice President, Chief Lending Officer. With a name like William Buford Jackson, Jr., he was probably bringing down at least a cool mil a year, especially in this town.

A lot more than that half-wit Kirby, who thought eight-fifty an hour, and time and a half over 40, was as good as a lottery ticket.

What a douche.

She cringed when she thought about what she’d let him do to her for the promise of a long weekend at Daytona Beach. They called it the Redneck Riviera, and now she knew why.

No, the new year held nothing but promise for Priscilla, and she intended to capitalize on it.

###

This story continues with Kirby’s New Year.

2016 Kirt Van Buren