The out-of-context question short circuits Ricky’s meltdown. “That it hasn’t been watered enough?”
“Exactly. Would you call that plant needy and tell it to deal? Or would you grab a watering can and get to work?”
“I’d water it.”
“That’s what I’m doing here.” I shrug as I let my point sink in.
Ricky smiles softly and stares at his feet. “Can I play one more time?” he asks quietly. “Will you listen?”
Every minute I spend here is one less I have to get my story straight with Mina, but there’s no way I can leave Ricky. Not until I’m sure he won’t psych himself out of playing tonight. If he doesn’t get on that stage, his confidence may never recover. Keeping the promises we make to ourselves is the most important step in mental health. It doesn’t hurt to have someone at our side, cheering us on when we falter. I need to ensure both happen for this kid today.
“I’m here as long as you need me.”
Ricky’s eyes light up. “Really? Will you stay and watch the show? It starts real soon, and I play first.”
I do some quick math. I should be able to watch Ricky, pick up Mina, and still have time to get to the party, but I’ll be cutting it close. “I’ll have to leave as soon as you’re done playing…”
“That’s okay. I just would feel so much better to know you’re here.”
A text from Mina comes in and she’s understandably uncomfortable. I answer her question to the best of my ability, then silence my phone and give my full attention to Ricky before his nerves get on top of him again.
TEN
Mina
Nothing about today has turned out the way I expected. I thought I’d have a quick meeting with Nathan at my office to talk about my ideas for his build. Now I’m pretending to be his date at his birthday party. I thought I’d hear from him hours ago so we could get our stories straight. Now it’s time to get ready and I haven’t heard squat.
I have no idea what to expect tonight. No clue how many people will be at this party. Nathan’s family is well known for their philanthropy, which means they might be good people but they’re also swimming in money, which means they probably aren’t. How is someone like me supposed to fit in, given my boring life and budget friendly wardrobe he so kindly pointed out? I wait as long as I can, then finally open my messaging app, which says Nathan has silenced his notifications, with an option to force my message through if it's urgent. This seems urgent to me, so I select that option and angrily type in a text.
We still on for tonight? We’re running out of time to have any kind of conversation about “our relationship.” I don’t know where you are. I don’t know where the party is. I don’t even know what to wear. And you call me the hot mess…
Seconds later, a curt reply.
The Prince of Darkness
busy
party at my parents’ house
I’ll call you as soon as I can about the other stuff
But we’re still on?
yes
A little more info would be a lot of help
I wait for a response. And wait…
And wait…
Hello?
Nothing.
Is this thing on?
After several minutes pass, it’s clear our communication has come to an end.
Nathan didn’t come close to giving me enough information, and if I didn’t need this money, I’d tell him where he could shove this ridiculous favor of his. But I do need the money because I really don’t want to juggle a second job as a waitress along with my new clients, so I turn to the internet for inspiration, doing a search first on Nathan’s parents, then his extended family. My search expands and I find pic after pic of Nathan and another obviously wealthy man who is never without gorgeous women dangling off both arms. Their dresses probably cost more than what Mom made in a year when I was little. Make up expertly done. Not a hair out of place. If that’s what he’s used to…
I need someone down to earth. Normal. Someone who drives a Honda and lives paycheck to paycheck and wears cheap clothes. Someone boring. Someone safe.
You know what? Screw boring. To hell with being safe!
I can do dazzling and spectacular just as well as the rest of ‘em. Nathan and his family won’t know what hit them. After some deliberation, I put on my red dress. The one that goes perfectly with my fair skin and raven hair, the one I wear when I intend to leave an impression. And I’m looking forward to watching The Prince of Darkness choke on that impression, though I’m sure I’ll still be underdressed compared to the rest of his family. Wealthy people can’t help but add a dash of pretension to everything.
After an hour fussing with my hair and makeup, I pace from my bedroom to the kitchen, my heels clicking on the outdated tile, my gaze tracing chipped and stained grout out of habit. Growing up in a series of ever more economical apartments, owning a home seemed like the epitome of success. The fact that I’m a full-blown adult with a career in interior design paying rent instead of a mortgage sits on my shoulder and whispers “FAILURE” on repeat.
I have dreams of buying an older place and renovating it room by room, turning something forgotten into something beautiful.
And I will.
But Mom’s growing pile of medical bills and the insane balloon in the cost of housing means that dream is on hold—at least until Nathan pays me.
Assuming his silence isn’t a sign he bailed and forgot to tell me the deal’s off.
I grab my phone from the counter and shoot him a text.
Helloooooo….
We’re officially out of time here. What do you want me to do?
With anyone else, I’d be worried he was in some sort of trouble. But not The Prince of Darkness. Chances are good he changed his mind and decided I wasn’t worth a phone call.
I pace a path between the front door and the kitchen a few more times before Nathan finally responds.
The Prince of Darkness
That took longer than expected but I’m done now. Meet me at this address.
No apology. No plan. Just an address that, according to my GPS, is going to take me to a bar instead of his parents’ house. Sure. Yeah. This is gonna work out just fine.
I have never met someone so infuriating. So selfish. So completely and utterly chaotic. Every interaction we have leaves me wondering what the hell just happened. As if that’s not troubling enough, my underserved libido suddenly seems to have a thing for handsome, growly men. What if my hormones take control while we’re pretending to like each other? What if he tries to kiss me? What if I let him?
What if I like it?
I take a deep breath and dig my phone out of my purse to call the whole thing off, but the memory of Mom making tea stops me in my tracks. Nathan may be the most difficult and disappointing person I’ve ever met, but I can’t jeopardize our working relationship. Not when he’s dangling much needed money my way.
