It’s past three now, and I never did take a lunch. In fact, I’m starving, and my growling stomach just proved it. “If you say so. I don’t mind sticking around if you need me.”

“It’s all good. We’ve got it from here,” Charlie says.

I gather up my belongings, including the lunch I packed and never ate, and make my way to the truck Charlie said he wants me to drive. There’s a single tree lying in the back of it, a giant, extra full one that’s actually pretty damn beautiful, and I admire it for a bit before I hop in the truck and start the engine.

Traffic’s shit as I make my way to downtown Carmel. I blame the upcoming holiday. Everyone’s out and about. Tourists are here in droves, as usual. I live in one of the most beautiful places in the world, according to my mother. She came here when she was young, right around my age, wanting to make a name for herself. Those were her words, and I’m not sure what she meant by that. Did she have plans on meeting and marrying a rich man so she could live in a fancy mansion on 17 Mile Drive, in a giant house right on the ocean?

That’s not what happened. She met an average dude and they got married, had kids and live a good life in Marina. They’re still together and as happy as they can be. I used to live with them too, up until about a year ago, when I got an apartment with a few buddies in Monterey. Most of my money goes to rent, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather live.

Not right now, at least.

When I finally turn onto Ocean Drive, traffic is backed up for miles. No wonder I don’t come around here too often. It’s overrun with tourists, there are a lot of overpriced shops, and it’s just not my scene. Though I do like the Carmel beach down at the bottom of the road. When I was in high school, my friends and I used to like coming over here and lighting bonfires at night. Drink beers we stole from our parents’ liquor stash and make moves on the cute girls who hung out with us.

That feels like a lifetime ago. Before I had responsibilities and rent and car insurance to pay for.

Sometimes, being an adult sucks balls.

When I’m finally able to turn onto the side street where Charlie told me to deliver the tree, I realize I’m thirty minutes late. I was supposed to be here at four.

Damn it. My next impression with this woman is getting blown all over the place.

I park where Charlie directed and climb out of the truck to go knock on the back door of the jewelry shop. No one answers. I knock again.

Again, no answer.

Craning my head one way, then the other, I decide to walk around the building and enter through the front door like a paying customer. Hope to hell a cop doesn’t ticket the truck while I do this. Parking is tight downtown, and they monitor the meters and parking spots rigorously. An expensive ticket would be yet another expense I definitely don’t need, though Charlie would probably take care of it for me.