Pretending to be Rich

by Parker, Weston

  She knew there was no love lost between my father and me. She was telling me without saying the words that whatever the illness was, it was extremely serious. The urgency in her voice told me I needed to be on a plane within the hour or as soon as human possible.

  With shaking hands, I pulled up the internet, trying to use my beefy fingers to type in the words for an airline search. I couldn’t quite get it done and tossed my phone on the table and grabbed my laptop. I typed out the word, waiting for the results to load when there was a knock on the door. Without thinking, I shouted for whoever it was to come in.

  “You should always check to see who’s at the door,” I heard Maceo say.

  I turned around to verify the voice matched the body, and I nodded. “I usually do.”

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded and then shook my head. “No. I need to get to Italy. My father is sick, and my mother sounds scared.”

  He came to stand beside me at the table. “Are you looking for a flight?” he asked.

  “Yes. I need to get there. Now. Something is wrong.” I was barely paying attention to him.

  “Take my jet,” he said.

  I looked up at him. “No, I can’t do that.”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m making the call. It’ll take an hour to get ready.”

  “Stop, Maceo. I can’t ask you to do that.”

  He shook his head, putting the phone to his ear. “It’s already done.”

  I wanted to reject his offer, but I hadn’t found a flight that left soon enough to suit me. Not to mention the cost for a last-minute flight on a weekend was exorbitant. I listened to him talk in Greek to someone, I assumed an assistant. His orders were succinct and left no room for arguing.

  He ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. “One hour,” he said with a nod.

  “Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.” I felt very much in his debt.

  He shook his head. “You don’t repay me. You’re a friend, and I’m helping you out. Besides, the plane sits in a hangar all day every day. It needs to be taken out for a flight now and again.”

  “Thank you. Truly. I will pay you back for all of your generosity one day. I need to pack.” I didn’t want to be rude, but I was in a bit of a hurry.

  “Go ahead. I’ll have my car take you to the airfield.”

  “Maceo, you don’t have to do that,” I said, walking into my bedroom.

  He followed me, leaning against the doorframe while I yanked my suitcase out from under my bed and started haphazardly tossing clothes inside. “Did she tell you what was wrong with your father?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No. Nothing. She only demanded I get there right away. She’s never done that. It has to be serious. I don’t know if there was an accident or what has happened. I saw him a couple weeks ago, and he was fine. He was the same angry man I’ve known all my life.”

  “Maybe it is just your mother being dramatic,” he said. “They want to see you, and this is the best way to get you there.”

  I smirked. “I don’t think so. When they want me to do something, it is commanded. It’s an order. Just like wearing that damn suit to that benefit. Despite being a grown-ass man, I cannot shake the manners that were drilled into me from the moment I drew my first breath in this world. My parents, for all their faults, are still my parents, and defying them is not an option. At least not outright defying a direct order.” I grinned. “I defy them in plenty of other ways though—like being poor.”

  “You’re a good son,” Maceo said.

  I smirked. “I do try, but I don’t think they would agree with you.”

  “They will one day.”

  In that moment, the realization that one day might be a day too late flitted through my mind. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of my father truly being sick. That would be a weakness, and the man was not weak. He refused to be weak.

  “Okay, I think I have everything,” I said, glancing around my room.

  “Passport?” he asked.

  “No. Shit, thanks.” I went to my desk and pulled it from a drawer.

  “Is there anything you need done while you’re gone? I’m happy to help.”

  I shook my head. “You’ve done plenty, more than enough. I cannot tell you how much this means to me.”

  “You know I don’t mind helping out. You’re a good guy.” He clapped me on the shoulder.

  “Thanks.”

  I grabbed my laptop from the table and shoved it into a backpack, along with my wallet and keys. I turned off the lights, took another look around, and decided I didn’t need anything else.

  “Let’s get you over there,” Maceo said, walking to the door.

  I was grateful for his help. In that moment, I had truly needed a friend capable of granting miracles. I hated feeling like I was using him, but just then, I needed what he offered, and I would worry about feeling guilty later. The sense of urgency pulling me back to Italy dominated my thoughts.

  I got into the waiting car and tried to relax. I couldn’t show up at home freaked out and wild eyed. I needed to keep my cool and be there for my mom until I figured out what the hell was going on. I swore if it was an elaborate ploy to get me home, I would never speak to either one of them again.

  The car stopped, and I immediately jumped out. Maceo climbed out as well and walked me to the jet sitting on the small runway and waiting for us. He quickly introduced me to his pilot.

  “Give me a call when you’re ready to come home, and I’ll have the jet ready and waiting,” Maceo said.

  I smiled. “Thanks, but I can fly commercial home.”

  “Why fly commercial when you have this? The pilot will be staying in Italy. Don’t worry about anything. Focus on your family.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “Don’t you have places to go?”

  He smirked. “No, and if I do, I’ll just hire another jet.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “I won’t forget this.”

  He waved, dismissing my statement, and walked back to his waiting car. I watched out the window, wondering what was happening in Italy. I wished like hell my mom would have been a little more specific.

  “Sir, we’ll be taking off in a couple minutes,” a flight attendant said. “Will you buckle your seatbelt please?”

  I looked at her with confusion, wondering where in the hell she had come from. I wasn’t expecting her. “Uh, yes. Can I use my phone?”

  “Not at this time,” she answered politely.

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  I realized I had left in such a rush, I hadn’t texted Eliana. I knew we weren’t an official couple, but I felt like I owed her a heads-up that I was going to be out of the country. I would text her when I landed. I leaned my head back against the seat and tried to focus on anything else other than the phone call from my mother.

  She’d sounded so serious and so scared. I couldn’t ever remember her sounding like that before. She’d always been stalwart. She’d always been the calm one when my father was yelling. A lot of my friends’ mothers, Greeks and Italians, would be loud and the real boss in the family, but not my mom. She’d always just kind of been a quiet force. My father and I both respected her and did as she asked, but she rarely raised her voice.

  There was a feeling of dread clinging to me. Deep down in the pit of my stomach, I knew something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

  As the plane began to ascend into the sky, all I kept thinking was I wanted the pilot to go faster.

  Chapter 28

  Eliana

  I walked into the small café, my eyes scanning the area until I spotted Lola. She didn’t look happy. I had gotten the feeling she was in a bad mood when she called and asked me to meet her for lunch.

  I agreed to meet her at one of the places we frequented when funds were tight. They offered inexpensive food. It wasn’t necessarily the best food, but it was cheap, and I didn’t have t
o make it.

  I sat down at the table and immediately noticed her scowl. “What’s got you in such a foul mood?” I asked.

  She groaned, shaking her head. “Bad night.”

  “What happened?” I ordered an ice water, wanting to save the money I had for a greasy burger.

  “I went out with this guy I met a few days ago. He was nice when we met, seemed charming, and I thought he could actually be someone I could have a relationship with.”

  I nodded, already having a good idea where the conversation was headed. “And I’m guessing he wasn’t any of those things?”

  “Nope. He was a complete asshole.”

  “What did he do?”

  She let out a long sigh. “First, he insulted my cheap outfit. Said I looked like a hooker.”

  “Who is this guy?”

  “He’s some French dude I met at a club. He was much nicer the first time. He bought me a few drinks, and we danced. When he asked me out, he told me to dress to impress. I did. At least, I thought I did. Apparently, when he said impress, he meant expensive.”

  I cringed. “I’m sorry. Did you still go out with him?”

  “Yes. We went to a nice restaurant. He ordered my dinner. After I specifically told him I didn’t like lobster, he ordered me lobster and told me to eat it because a girl like me wouldn’t get the chance to eat a lobster dinner for free very often.” She pursed her lips together.

  “What a dick!” I exclaimed.

  “Oh, it gets worse,” she said. “I asked to see the dessert menu, and he told me I didn’t need dessert. He suggested I skip dessert for the immediate future.”

  My mouth fell open. “Oh my god,” I gasped.

  She held up a hand. “It gets worse.”

  “How? Why would you actually spend another minute with him? I would have walked out!”

  She sighed. “I know. I should have, but I kept thinking he would get better. He didn’t. He got so much worse. The moment we got back into the car, he got very handsy. He pushed up my skirt and tried to take me right there in the back seat! The driver could see everything. I told him to stop, and he wouldn’t listen. He said he just bought me an expensive dinner and now I had to earn it.”

  I shook my head with complete disgust. “What a pig.”

  “An absolute pig. You’re so lucky to have found a guy like Cade.” She sighed.

  “Don’t say that,” I said with a grimace.

  “Why not? He’s a good guy.”

  “He is, but he’s too good for me,” I told her.

  “Stop. He is not. He’s perfect for you. I saw how happy you were on Sunday. Who knew gelato was an aphrodisiac?” She laughed.

  I could feel my cheeks blushing. I had told her about the incident at the gelato shop after she hounded me, claiming I had a glow. “I haven’t talked to him since that day.”

  “What? Why not?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just realized he’s a really good guy. Like really good. He deserves so much more. I feel guilty about dragging him into my very complicated life.”

  “You don’t have a complicated life,” she said. “You have a dull life. You do nothing. You go nowhere. You don’t do anything dangerous. What’s so complicated about it?”

  I scowled at her. “I’m not boring.”

  “Yes, you are absolutely boring.”

  “Fine, I might not do anything, but my mother breezing in and out of my life is not something I want to explain to him.”

  She shrugged. “I doubt he would care. He would probably tell you the same thing I’ve told you a hundred times—quit giving her money. She’s like a stray animal. If you keep feeding her, she’s going to keep coming back.”

  “She’s my mother,” I retorted. “Not a dog.”

  “Is she, though? Is she really your mother? You’ve been taking care of her for as long as I have known you, and from what you have told me about your childhood, she’s not exactly ever been great at mothering. Sometimes, a toxic relationship is exactly that. When something is toxic, you eliminate it from your life. You don’t need to keep supporting her. You owe her nothing.”

  I sighed. “I know, but I always feel so damn guilty.”

  “Don’t. Stop feeling guilty. Her choices are her own. Don’t let her be the thing that keeps you from being happy.”

  I shook my head. “It isn’t that easy. I’m just not cut out for relationships. I don’t know how to be a good girlfriend. I don’t want to hurt him. He deserves someone that is so much more than I can be. I haven’t even talked to him in two days. That cannot be good girlfriend behavior.”

  “I think if it was a problem for him, he would say something. He is way into you. He is the perfect man, and you are going to throw him away because you’re worried about being perfect. First of all, you can’t be perfect at everything. I know you certainly try, but you have to leave something for us mere mortals to beat you at. Secondly, he would likely understand your apprehensions if you told him. He showed his own vulnerability by admitting who he was. That took balls. He’s certainly not going to criticize you for being anxious about a real relationship. Don’t let this get away from you. I would be very sad for you if you lost him.”

  “You can’t lose what you don’t have,” I said.

  “Bullshit. You know you have him. He’s into you.”

  I shook my head, digging in. “I can’t. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “I hate that you are so damn stubborn,” she said.

  “Sorry, but I am who I am, and you love me for it.”

  She slapped her hand on the table. “Exactly! I love you. You and I have a relationship. You were a prickly thing when we first met, but I managed to crack that tough exterior shell you have. Cade already has. Now, let him in, and let him figure out how to be in a relationship with you. I think he’s proven he is a good guy. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  I cringed. “The worst? He gets hurt. I like him—I’m not denying that—but I don’t want to hurt him. I will end up hurting him. I’m no good for him.”

  “Yes, you are. You have a little work to do on yourself. Talk to your mom. Set some boundaries. Maybe you need to tell her how you feel. Have you ever told her what her constant abandonment did to you?”

  “No! God no. I don’t want her to feel bad.”

  “Fuck her,” she snapped so quickly, it shocked me enough to make me lean back.

  “Lola,” I scolded.

  “No, I’m serious,” she said, her voice stern. “You are so worried about everyone else, you don’t think about you and how you feel. You’re worried about hurting Cade but willing to hurt yourself by not letting a relationship happen. Your mom is sucking you dry, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings and are hemorrhaging money and denying yourself things you should have and deserve to have.”

  I frowned. “What good comes from me telling my mother she is a shitty human being?”

  “The good is you get to release that baggage. Imagine how good it will feel to just get that off your chest. You cannot tell me you haven’t thought about telling her off before.” She raised an eyebrow.

  She wasn’t wrong. “I have, but then I remember I’m not a bitch.”

  She scowled. “You’re not a bitch. You need to be more of a bitch and tell her she really screwed you up.”

  “Hey, I’m not screwed up,” I protested.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “You’re screwed up,” I retorted, sounding like a child.

  She shrugged. “You’re right, which is why we’re great together.”

  I laughed. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

  “Yes, but I’m not done with this. I want you with him. I’m going to keep bugging you until you give in.” She laughed.

  “Please, don’t,” I begged.

  “Have you heard what is going on tonight?” she asked, easily changing the subject.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea for sure, but I did hear something about a benefit for a charity bene
fiting kids. I don’t know if it was tonight.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No money for us.”

  “Stop, I like serving at those events. The people are nicer.”

  “And poorer,” she said.

  I laughed. “You are so shallow.”

  “I know,” she said with a shrug.

  We finished our lunch and parted ways, promising to see each other in a few hours. As I walked home, I thought about what she had said. Part of me knew she was right. I had often envisioned the conversation with my mother.

  I would ask her why she’d left me alone all the time. I would ask her so many questions about why things were the way they were. I wanted to know why she treated me like an afterthought, and not even a pleasant afterthought.

  I knew the situation with my mother would not be resolved overnight. I didn’t think a talk with her would change how I felt about relationships, but maybe it would give me a tiny bit of peace. If I could put it behind me, maybe I could move forward with Cade.

  I didn’t know if I was cut out to be a girlfriend or a wife, but if I could make him happy, even for the short term, that would make me happy.

  Thinking about him made me want to talk to him. I pulled my phone out and called him. It went straight to voicemail.

  That was a little odd, but I assumed he was probably at work and didn’t want to be disturbed. I thought about sending him a quick text just to say hello but didn’t want to bother him. I would text him later, or he would text me.

  I felt a little guilty I hadn’t replied to his earlier texts. Fortunately, I knew the man was busy and wasn’t hanging on the phone waiting for me to text. I liked that we were both independent. We weren’t one of those couples that had to spend every waking minute together.

  “Oh shit,” I mumbled, coming to a dead stop on my walk.

  I had just thought of myself and Cade as a couple. Where in the hell had that come from?

  I blamed Lola. She got me thinking about it. I hadn’t let myself even go down that road. It was weird to think of me and him like that.