Behind her stretched a skyline washed in sunrise, framed by lush green mountain forests.
The caption underneath read: "Weekend ride. What a glorious land we live in."
That was my bike.
My mouth twisted. I forwarded the video to my manservant, pressed two thousand dollars into his hand, and told him to find out where this place was.
He took the cash and left, practically beaming.
He'd barely stepped out when my phone buzzed. A voice message from my best friend, Georgina Simmons.
"Hey? Yolanda, did you see what Candice posted on her feed?"
"I saw it."
"That's your bike, isn't it?"
"It is."
I'd only been riding the Trek Butterfly to work for under a month, so almost no one at the company knew about it, let alone what it actually cost.
The only two people who knew were Candice and Georgina.
"Then you need to get it back fast. That bike of yours costs a fortune. What if she wrecks it riding around like that? Did you forget her nickname?"
I let out a small laugh.
Of course I remembered.
Candice was hopelessly careless.
Send her to make copies, and she'd somehow break the machine and spray toner everywhere.
Send her to fetch water, and she'd faceplant on flat ground, shattering every cup in the office.
Eventually the boss just swapped them all out for plastic ones.
Sit her at a desk, and her computer would constantly crash.
On top of all that, she loved helping herself to other people's things, and she especially loved never giving them back.
The whole office had learned to guard their belongings like she was a thief.
After she became infamous enough, everyone started calling her "Sticky-Fingers Candice."
I smiled. "No need. Doesn't she love taking other people's stuff and never returning it?"
"This time I'll let her take all she wants. Let her have her fun."
"Later on, she'll have plenty of time to cry."
The manservant found the mountain they were climbing soon enough. It was called Fourbright Mountain, not too steep, perfect for cycling and road trips.
The butler drove me to the rest stop at the foot of Fourbright Mountain. According to the manservant's intel, that was where their ride had started.
Sure enough, as we got close, I could see more than a dozen people lingering at the rest area from a distance, their bikes parked crookedly along the road.
A woman in yoga pants stood chatting cheerfully with a few men in mismatched cycling jerseys.
That was Candice.
"Candice, your bike's got a real sleek look. When'd you get the new ride?" A heavyset man ran his hand over the Trek Butterfly, marveling.
"Yeah, anyone can tell that thing wasn't cheap. Gotta be, what, seven or eight grand?" A tall, lanky man added, his eyes shining with envy.
Candice's face was all smiles. She waved a hand.
"Oh, come on, it was only two or three thousand. There's no such thing as a bike that expensive."
"I wouldn't be so sure. I remember reading about some foreign brand that sold for over thirty million dollars." Big Mike said.
"Candice, let me take it for a spin, would you? I want to feel what a ride like this is like!"
Candice froze for a beat, hesitation flickering across her face.
"I mean, sure, I guess. But this bike's pretty pricey, so if you want to ride it..."
"You buy me a Red Bull after?"
"Deal!" Big Mike didn't hesitate.
Candice handed him the bike. He swung a leg over, and before he'd gone two pedals, he hit a stray rock and went down hard, bike and all, sprawled across the road.
The bike skidded outward, scraping along the pavement, peeling away a good chunk of its beautiful paintwork.
"I—I didn't mean to!" The heavyset man scrambled to his feet, his face flushed with embarrassment. "This thing's too light, I just wasn't ready, that's why I tipped over!"
