by Ashton Johns
Daisy Ingles
“Kade,” I gasped, absolutely floored by his idea. “I can’t…”
“My damn skirt,” Meredith bitched, snatching a napkin from the holder on the table. “Do you know how much this cost? You, Daisy Ingles, are so fucking stupid you can’t even handle a damn cup of coffee and you think I’m going to trust you with my brainchild? Deluded.”
I looked down at the big wet, brown stain she was dabbing at, and tried to feel guilty, but couldn’t muster up even an ounce of it. She deserved it, complaining about how much the too tight thing cost when poor Kade could barely afford a cup of coffee or a cream cheese bagel every day.
“Listen, lady,” Kade said gruffly. “I’m sorry your skirt got some coffee on it, but I need to know your answer before I sign this contract.”
Meredith stopped what she was doing and looked up at Kade, her top lip curling into a sneer. “You can’t be serious?”
“As a heart attack. Now, what’s your damn answer?” Kade sat back in his chair and waited expectantly.
“Kade…” I started, but Meredith held up her hand to silence me.
“Why? Why do you want her on the show?”
Kade contemplated her question for a few seconds and then leaned forward, his arms resting on the Formica table.
“Short and truthful answer: I don’t trust you and I know Daisy will make sure I’m not fucked over.”
My chest constricted as I considered his words. He trusted me. This man who had no one but his beloved dog trusted me to take care of him. He wanted me to be the person who looked after his best interests, and while the responsibility was huge, it filled me with pride.
“She has no power,” Meredith stated, throwing the sodden napkin onto the table. “She could be on the show and I could still fuck you over.”
Kade nodded slowly. “I like your honesty, Ms. Hennessey, but rest assured, you fuck me over and the media will find out about it.”
“So you don’t need her on the show. Just sign the damn contract, Mr. Sutton.”
“Nope,” he said, pushing the papers towards her. “Not until it’s altered to include all my stipulations. I’m doing this to help you win an award, which I’m guessing will save your ass, and believe me, spending weeks locked up with a bunch of walking, talking Barbie dolls is not my idea of fun. To combat that living hell, I want Daisy around. I want to be able to talk to my friend when the vacuum heads start jabbering about bikini lines and mani-peds, or whatever the fuck they’re called. Oh, and don’t forget the hair and room for my dog to run around in,” he said, tapping a finger on the contract.
Meredith opened her mouth to argue, but Kade held up the same finger.
“Before you say anything, I suggest you consider your options. If I don’t do this, who the hell will? Because, without wanting to come across as some egotistical idiot, the last time I looked, most of the people I share sleeping space with under the railway bridge are old and toothless. Added to which, they’ve pissed themselves so much it’s ingrained into their skin. You’d never get rid of the smell; the Barbie girls would hate it.”
“I don’t know about this, Kade,” I protested, glancing at Meredith.
“I know you need me to do this, Daisy,” he said softly. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to stick it out without you. You understand?”
I nodded slowly, understanding every word. If he didn’t finish the show, I didn’t get my bonus and Mom and Pop didn’t get their trip or Mom’s medicine paid for.
Wanting to plead with him to let me off the hook, I looked into his startling blue eyes and saw a shimmer of insecurity and fear. He wasn’t insisting on this to be cruel. He’d shown nothing but sympathy for my situation. He was doing it because he needed me. If he could give up his privacy for me then this was the least that I could do to be a good person, a good friend.
“Okay,” I said on an exhale. “I’ll do it.”
“Hey, boss lady here, people!” Meredith pointed a finger at her chest. “I make the decisions.”
“So,” Kade said. “Make them.”
Meredith’s nostrils flared as she grabbed the contract. “I’ll get the changes made and Daisy will get it back to you.”
She then stood up from her chair so forcefully that she almost pushed it over.
“When you’ve finished making puppy eyes at your boyfriend here, get back to work,” she snapped.
“I’m not,” I cried, totally embarrassed. I hadn’t been, had I?
“Can’t you just stop giving her shit for one second,” Kade ground out. “We’re both doing you a favor here, lady.”
Meredith’s eyes narrowed on him and I could almost smell the venom she was emanating.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” she hissed, pointing a finger at Kade. “She will not, and I repeat not, be the one you choose at the end. Do I make myself clear? Because if I don’t say so now and I’ll make it real clear for you.”
She curled her lip in distaste and the anger and hatred in her eyes filled me with dread. Kade didn’t know her like I did and had no idea how vindictive she could be. I did though and I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to ruin him, especially if it made for better viewing.
Kade however, pulled back his shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.
Homeless, penniless but brave and proud.
“She’ll need to be there until the end,” he said matter-of-factly. “I want her there in the last week at least, so you’ll have to have three girls in the final, not two.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Meredith asked, shaking her head. “You do not make the rules. This is my show, and I decide what the format will be.”
“Up to you, Ms. Hennessey,” Kade said in a light tone. “She’s in until the end or I’ll walk with her.”
“You little fucker!” Meredith poked a finger inches from Kade’s face. “Do not mess with me, because I promise you it will only cause you heartache.”
Kade raised his eyebrows until they disappeared into his beanie hat. “Okay, if you say so. Maybe I’d best walk away now before you cause me any harm.”
My eyes widened at the balls of the guy. He was being offered a home, clothes, food and money, yet he would not be bought by the harpy shrew in the four-inch red heels. He was bright and bold, and I had to wonder, again, how the hell he’d ended up on the streets.
“My office in an hour. I’ll have the amended contract then,” Meredith snapped at me then turned on her heels and fled.
As Kirby’s door slammed shut, Kade chuckled while I stared at him open-mouthed.
“Well, that was fun,” he said, picking up his mug of coffee.
“Seriously, Kade. I think you just made yourself an enemy. She hates being bested by anyone.”
“Let alone a homeless guy,” he replied flatly.
“I didn’t say that,” I protested.
“I know.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, but she’s pissed me off, thinking just because I have no home, I mustn’t have brains either. You know I had a GPA of 3.8 my last semester at college.”
My eyes must have flashed amazement because Kade laughed.
“I know, go figure. The hobo actually has brains.”
“Kade,” I chided. “If I was amazed, it was not because you have a GPA. It was because a GPA of 3.8 is damn near perfect.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, wagging his finger at me, any feelings of hurt gone from his demeanor. “A 4.0 would be perfect and a 3.9 would be damn near perfect.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at him, but still wondered how he’d gone from college to the streets.
“How did you end up homeless?” I asked, vocalizing my thoughts.
“Ah now, that is a story for those long nights in the mansion.” He gave me a huge smile and stood up. “I’ll see you later when she’s amended the contract.”
“Okay,” I replied.
With that, he collected Brody from his spot by the radiator and left, leaving me worryi
ng about the fact that I was kind of looking forward to those long nights.
Ten
Kade Sutton
As I left the café, I had to wonder what the fuck I’d got myself in to. How the hell could this end on a positive? Okay, I’d be fed and clothed for a while, but I was under no illusion that once the show and all the furor around it died down, the network and, more specifically, Meredith, would cut me loose. I could end up back on the streets, and how would that feel after experiencing the wealth of something close to a normal life for a while?
Thinking about the wealth and the sheer crassness of it all, I worried that my mom would be disgusted with me. She’d hate that I agreed to living in luxury, for however short a time, while friends and people I knew were still living in poverty with only pieces of cardboard and ripped, dirty blankets to their names. Maybe, though, she’d understand that I was doing it for Daisy. Okay, a little bit of it was for me. I was getting tired of the constant battle to find food and a warm place to sleep, and the ongoing fight against joining the drinkers, just because the alcohol might help get me through the day, was becoming tiresome.
I hated to think that I’d let Mom down, but I needed to do this for me, as much as I needed to do it for Daisy. It may be the worst decision of my life; it may change me for the worse, but I had to do it, otherwise I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d survive my current life, even if it was the one I deserved to have.
As I trailed back to my usual spot with Brody at my side, rain started to wet the sidewalk. It was only light, but it was enough to have those caught without jackets or umbrellas dashing into stores and coffee shops, while others pushed up their umbrellas and jostled with each other as they rushed along.
I pulled my coat collar up and urged Brody to go faster, heading for our spot under the overhang of Daisy’s office building. She needed to be able to find me with the new and revised contract, so it was the best place to be. Yeah, okay, so Daisy herself might have had something to do with the reason I headed there every day, too.
The thought of her made me smile just as it always did, but her face when I told her about my GPA had been a picture. She’d looked as shocked as if I’d just got my dick out and flopped it on the table. Then, when she asked how I’d ended up on the streets, part of me wanted to tell her, let it all out, set myself free. Maybe talking about it would ease the pain, lessen the guilt, but how would saying the words do that when it was so deep within me it was part of me, part of my soul?
Paighton forgave me. She said it was an accident, it wasn’t my fault, but Cory was dead because of me. Her only son died because I drank too much tequila one night.
I’d been back in touch with both Paighton and Cory for about a year. I didn’t use it much, but social media did have its benefits, and reconnecting with the guy I’d considered my brother had been one of them. Cory had been so excited when I messaged him, particularly as we were at neighboring colleges out of state; it seemed like fate.
The first break from college after getting in touch, Cory insisted I go with him to see his mom and have a meal with them. Walking into their apartment had been like coming home. Paighton’s familiar perfume hit me as soon as she pulled me into her arms. The memories of her caring for me when Mom was ill came flooding back. Some were good and some not so much, but they were memories of a time when I’d felt loved. Since leaving the kids home at eighteen, I’d had no one. I had college buddies, and a few girls were pretty happy to keep me company from time to time, but none of them were part of my history; they weren’t family.
After that night, he and I spent a lot of time together either at his shared house or mine. We partied a lot, we hooked up with lots of girls and we tooted the occasional line, but nothing too serious. One night, I went to a frat house party and lost, badly, at beer pong, only there’d been a slight alteration and it was actually tequila pong. Only two hours in and I was wasted, and I mean really wasted. I was puking up so badly that I burst a blood vessel in my eye. Some of my hockey team put me to bed and left me to sleep it off while the party carried on downstairs. When I woke the next morning, I reeked of tequila and vomit and could barely stand. I considered just staying at the frat house and sleeping the day away, but I had to get an English paper in the next day, and I hadn’t even started it.
My own house, which I shared with three other guys, was about a half hour walk away, and I could only just walk to the bathroom without thinking I might pass out, so I needed a ride. Everyone I knew had been at the party with me, so the few numbers I tried either went to voicemail or I was told to ‘fuck off’. The only other person who could help was Cory.
When he answered his cell, I could tell by his voice that he’d been partying himself, so I tried to brush him off and say it didn’t matter. Cory was one of the good guys, though, and said he’d come get me. He said he’d be there in an hour after he’d washed up and grabbed breakfast.
Two hours later, there was no sign of him, so I dialed his number again. He didn’t answer but I got a text that said he was ten minutes away. An hour after that, there was still no Cory, and I knew something was wrong. I called the guys he shared with but when none of them answered, I knew I had to call Paighton. It took me two hours to pluck up the courage, and when I did a guy answered. He said he was a police officer who’d been sent to her house and I couldn’t speak to Mrs. Mulrooney. I yelled and screamed down that phone until, eventually, Paighton came on the line. Cory had been using his phone to text and had crashed his car into a truck when he missed a stop light. He’d been texting me. He’d been okay, or so they thought, when the cops had breathalyzed him. He was three times over the limit and was just about to be pushed into the police cruiser when he collapsed. He was twenty-one years of age and died from a massive brain bleed from banging his head on the side window of his car when he smashed into the truck.
When Daisy asked me whether I’d ever wondered where I’d be if I’d changed the route of my life in some way, I said I had never wondered about it, that I was on a path I was meant to be on. Mom had always told me that we’d always end up on whatever path we were meant to be on. I truly believed her, and never thought about where I could be. I believed that this was my destiny because of my selfishness in calling Cory. I did, however, think about him. If I hadn’t drunk so much that night, where would he be now? He was meant to join the NFL as a linebacker. He didn’t care who for just so long as he played professional football. He was not meant to be six feet down in the ground.
After that, I bombed out of pretty much everything. College, my part-time job teaching English to immigrant kids and hockey all went down the toilet. I got kicked out of college for missing too many classes and turning up late to those I did attend. That meant I lost my home and seeing as the community college I taught at had fired my ass for missing my sessions there, too, I had no money to rent anywhere. A few nights sofa surfing with an old college buddy turned into a month, until in the end, his girlfriend kicked me out. I couldn’t find another job so couldn’t help pay for anything, and for his girlfriend, Tiffany, the final straw came when I finished off her favorite breakfast cereal and left them without milk. That was when I packed up the few things I had and hitched a lift out of there. It was a stupid idea, there were no college buddies to give me a sofa to sleep on but at least I was away from the memories of losing Cory.
One night in a hostel turned to two, two turned to three and then on the fourth night I didn’t get in, and then I really was homeless. It was the second week of sleeping rough that I found Brody. He’d been abandoned next to a dumpster that belonged to a café. The night before I’d seen them throw out the leftovers after closing, so went over there hoping to catch something to eat. Instead I found a dog who became my best friend. I’d shared the dried-up ham on rye sandwiches with him and we hadn’t been apart since.
So, that was the story I had to tell Daisy. That was how I ended up homeless at the age of twenty-two. My best buddy died because of me and I was so fucked up
by it, I ended up on the streets. It was not Disney, it was not pretty, but it was my life, the path that I was meant to be on.
As we neared our spot, Brody gave a little grunt, as if to say, ‘we’re home’, and I felt a sense of peace as I saw my blanket roll and pile of cardboard still there. I didn’t take it everywhere with me like most people on the street. I always thought if I were meant to keep it, it’d still be there when I got back. I’d been lucky so far, and in three years, this was only my second bundle.
“Home sweet home, Brody.” I sighed, giving him a pat on the head. “Make the most of it, buddy, ‘cause soon you’ll be living in the lap of luxury.”
Brody grunted again and I wondered whether he was telling me I’d made a huge mistake. If this was my path and I was meant to be on it—my penance for Cory—should I really fuck with that, just for the smile of a pretty girl? Then that pretty smile flashed through my brain and I knew this was what I had to do.
Eleven
Daisy Ingles
I had about an hour and a half of peace while Meredith went to change out of her ruined skirt. I could feel the cold breeze of her mood when she walked back past my desk, though and knew I was in for some serious shit. To say that things were bordering on arctic would have been an understatement.
I kept myself busy wandering through some of the emails that had built up over the last few hours and nearly jumped out of my skin when she slammed a bunch of paperwork on my desk.
“Here,” she pointed, “is the damn revised contract for that fucking hustler in hand-me-downs outside. This,” she said, sneering and separating one pile from the other, “is your paperwork. I think you get that I’m extremely unhappy about this. No one fucks with my plans. Ever.”
“Meredith, it—”
“Save it. Whether you cooked it up together or not, you’ve just cost me a lot of money. The rise in his fee and now yours means I’m going to need more drama on the show.”
