by Tara Brown
“Jesus.” I cringed. “So I was a dick to him then, wasn’t I?” That didn’t make me feel good.
“Well, kinda. But honestly, Monty and Stephen both think he needs to be a man and break things off with her and tell his dad no. It’s pathetic. The old days of merger marriages and all that nonsense are done. Getting disinherited isn’t as bad as being with someone you don’t even like.”
“His dad threatened to disinherit him?” Who were these people?
“His dad thinks he’s the most powerful man in the world because his family is.”
“Gross. So Jordan called and asked who I was?” That made me feel all kinds of funny. Especially since he was dating a girl to make money for his family. He was worse than France.
“Yeah, the weirdo called you Cinderella.”
“Cinderella.” I laughed, realizing I was blushing and hating it. “I see. Well, that’s random.”
“Not so much; you kinda are when you think about it. You’re hot and poor and always at a party filled with royalty. All you need to do is lose a shoe and you’re her. I tell you this all the time: you’re a knockout. And his family is known for being able to spot prime real estate.”
“Oh my God, stop. You know my feelings on boys with trust funds. You have the only worthy one.”
“That’s pretty true.” She changed the subject. “What are you doing now?”
“Going home to work all night. What about you?”
“Not much. Why don’t we hang out? We could do dinner.” She sounded bored. She needed a job.
“I’m finishing a project for your dad, getting a big presentation ready. So I can’t. But if I work hard enough tonight and tomorrow, I can probably hang tomorrow night.”
“Okay.” She didn’t sound as excited about tomorrow.
“We can go dancing,” I offered weakly, getting a warning look from Hennie. “It’ll be fun.”
“Okay.” She perked up. “Come here after work, and I’ll get a little soiree going as sort of a preclub gathering. Yay!” She went from zero to sixty, and I started massaging the spot I assumed my liver was located. Her version of a soiree was going to be intense. Too intense for me.
“I’ll text you later.”
“Bye!” she said in her singsong way, and hung up.
“Oh my God. I have to party again tomorrow.” I sighed and stepped onto the elevator.
“No one feels sorry for you. Jordan Somersby hit on you,” Hennie retorted.
“Oh my God, stop. Marcia just explained it, and he’s not doing much better in my books, so let’s just drop it. You coming for dinner again? Grandma made chicken potpies. I think she already made you one.” It was dangerous bringing Hennie home, risking Martin flirting with her. But we all liked having her there, and I had given my consent.
“Hell yes.” Hennie didn’t lighten up from her worrying mood, though. But I knew once we got home and my sick brother was being all attentive and flirty, she’d be plucky again and Martin would have that silly grin on his face. If I had to sacrifice my own comfort and happiness to put it there, so be it. I was getting used to making all kinds of sacrifices for his sake lately.
Chapter Sixteen
TROUBLE IN LOVE?
Jordan
“I just got invited to Marcia’s house tomorrow night.” I gave my brother a look as I entered the kitchen and grabbed a homemade cookie from the cooling rack. “Marcia La Croix.”
“Marcia La Croix called you?” Stephen asked over his huge bowl of cereal. It was half the box in one of Lucia’s serving bowls for pasta. “Why didn’t Monty call you? Befriending a guy’s girl is weird and creepy. That’s a dangerous mistake, trust me.”
“Yeah, it’s not like that. But I might have made a huge mistake regardless.” I bit my lip and contemplated not telling him what I’d done. “This afternoon I called to ask about that friend of hers.”
“The smoking-hot one from last night?”
“Yeah. Lacey.”
“You said her name was Cinderella.”
“No.” I needed him to focus on how this was a bad idea, not her name.
But he didn’t agree. “Awesome.” He held his knuckles out for me to pound.
“You don’t think it’s a terrible idea to hunt her down while I’m still dealing with the Amy thing?” I tapped our knuckles, not feeling the spirit of it all. Not yet. If I were rid of Amy, I’d be doing cartwheels. Poorly.
“No, I think you need to bang that chick and then give me all the details. If you weren’t my brother, I’d ask you to film the whole thing. I might still.” He laughed at his own disgusting comment.
“Porn not doing it for you anymore?”
“Porn-free for a year, man. Cynthia doesn’t approve.”
“She has revoked your porn access.” I snickered and stole his spoon, taking a huge bite of his cereal. “Not that I blame her,” I said with a mouthful. “Poor Jane wouldn’t even do your laundry when we were teenagers.” Our maid hated Stephen. She still did, in fact.
“Jane hated me, but that had nothing to do with me whacking off in socks. She had a personal vendetta against men. Especially handsome, charming ones.”
“The socks didn’t help your shitty personality.” I ate some more of his cereal. “And learning to do laundry was good for you.” I chewed fast before I choked laughing.
“Laugh it up, chuckles. I got smart about the whole thing and started leaving the socks in your room. So you washed them, not me.” He took back his cereal and his spoon, grinning wide.
“Asshole!” I backed off, shaking my head in disgust. “You’re not even human, admit it. Soulless asshole.”
He laughed harder, chewing and nearly choking. “I’ve been waiting on that one for a while.”
“You’re disgusting.” I shuddered.
“Anyway.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “We gotta go. Our massages are in, like, half an hour. On the ride over, you can tell me what you plan to do about the Amy problem.”
“I don’t want to talk about the Amy problem.” I grabbed my wallet and phone and stalked to the door. “I’m sick of it, and it hasn’t even been a week yet.”
Apparently he wasn’t, though.
The moment we got into the car he asked, “But what’s your plan?”
“Well, last night changed a few things for me.” I gave him a look. “I believed Dad when he said Amy had a crush on me, but now I’m starting to suspect her parents have given her the same bullshit spiel that she has to date me. And last night I followed Grandpa Jack’s advice.” I chuckled with embarrassment but continued. “I told her that the dress she was wearing looked bad on her and she needed to choose a different color.”
“No!” He slapped me on the arm. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Feels good, right? Sticking it to her?”
“No. It didn’t. It felt terrible. It was hurtful and rude and a lie; she looked fine.”
“Did she slap you?”
“That’s the point I’m making. She sucked it up. Rage in the eyes, totally wanted to kick me in the balls, but didn’t. She fucking took it on the chin.”
“Oh, damn. Her dad has given her the speech, and our dad has given you the same. And now you’re both just playing along to appease the bank accounts.”
“Right.”
“So you can treat this girl as badly as you want, and her family threats will make her stay with you?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Yeah, but that’s not my type of sport.” I didn’t say anything about the plans I’d been contemplating. Publicly humiliating myself so her family would refuse our relationship or something along those lines. I was going to throw myself to the wolves and risk being cut off. But I didn’t want Grandpa to disown me. I loved my grandpa. But I couldn’t go along with this. At this point I was even thinking about faking my own death.
“I love this, Jordie. I’m not gonna lie. Your life is amazingly entertaining. When you decided to major in finances and toe the company line instead of doing som
ething that actually suited you, like writing or cartoon work or newspapers, I thought for sure we would never have another interesting moment from you. But here we are. Dad’s pimping you out, and Grandpa’s teaching you how to get dumped by a girl who will never dump you.” He hadn’t laughed this much around me in a long time. “This is amazing. It’s going to be so boring when summer’s over and you go back to Boston. I don’t know how I’ll get along.” He cackled like a fucking witch or evil queen.
I wasn’t laughing.
At all.
As the car pulled up to the spa, I climbed out, ready for a massage and the Roman steam baths. I hadn’t been here in six months, and now that classes were over for the summer, I was ready to relax.
“Oh, buddy. It’s going to be a rough summer.” Stephen wrapped an arm around my shoulders and beamed. He was enjoying my hell a little too much.
Inside he started charming the girl at the front desk while I roamed and checked out the foyer. Bright colors caught my eye as I came to the side hallway, seeing Post-it notes covering a wall. It was just like the ones they had at school and in the subway. People were invited to tack up random posts, mostly cheesy inspirational crap they stole from googling cheesy inspirational crap.
But one caught my eye as I scanned.
Trouble in love? Trouble with trust? Or just desperate to catch that man of yours in a sticky situation and have him publicly humiliated? We can help. Email [email protected] for more info or check out our Instagram, thetestdummies.
I pulled my phone out and snapped a quick photo, wondering what kind of world we lived in and yet also spotting an amazing opportunity.
Maybe, if this worked, I wouldn’t have to fake my own death after all. And if I handled it right, even Grandpa might give me a pat on the back for unlocking the fourth dimension in how to get dumped. I made a silent promise to myself to someday use my creative genius for the benefit of mankind.
Chapter Seventeen
MARCELLO
Lacey
Kami’s email came back with everything I needed to trap her moron of a boyfriend.
I checked over his schedule, choosing his DJ guest appearance at a club called Bossa Nova Civic Club on Myrtle Avenue. He would be there tomorrow, Saturday night, and it was only about half an hour from my place. I could go and be home in time to watch an episode of something on Netflix.
I just had to work up the nerve to go alone and boldly hit on a guy while suggesting we go somewhere quiet, so he could take the bait. The moment he said, “Yeah, let’s get a hotel or go back to my place,” it’d be done. That was what I’d told myself anyway.
“Hey, kiddo. You going to Marcia’s party tonight?” Mr. La Croix popped his head in my office.
“Yeah, I’m just finishing this up.” I pointed to the bug bar presentation on my computer screen.
“How’s that going?”
“Great.” For the first time, I wasn’t lying. I’d discovered something vital to the sales pitch, something that would win over celebrity endorsements. It wouldn’t convince the likes of Marcia, but people like Monty would be all over it. If I was being honest, it had even won me over on the benefits of the protein. Not that I’d ever eat that shit again.
“So you’ll be ready for Monday?”
“Totally.” I wrinkled my nose by accident, making him laugh.
“Good to see you’re still feeling the burn.” He laughed harder.
“I’m not gonna lie; I have no desire to eat this, but the benefits are surprisingly enticing.”
“I know.” He beamed. “I’ve been eating a bar a day, and I’m loving it. I feel amazing and I think the anti-aging benefits are starting to kick in.”
“Gross.” I laughed too.
“Only gross if you think about it while you eat. Or if some jerk tells you it’s bugs while you’re midchew.” He winked. “See you later at the house, then.” He waved and walked away, greeting some other guy in the hall.
Hennie came scurrying into the office after he left. “Did you get it figured out?” She closed the door. She was far more stressed about the whole thing than I was. Which was a lot.
“Yeah. He’s DJing at a club in Brooklyn.”
“Near your place?”
“No, but it’s a good place to go. Busy and lots of flashing lights, and once he’s done his set, he’ll be drinking. I’ll slip in then, get him a drink, and try to get the footage of him asking me back to a hotel.”
“I don’t know how you’re coping with this. I’m a ball of nerves, and you haven’t even gone in yet.” She rubbed her hands on her pants like they were sweating.
“I’m a ball of nerves, too, but at the same time I kinda wanna catch him so Kami will be free.”
“You’re like a superhero. You need a Test Dummy costume.” She was way too excited about this.
“Right, I’ll have one made.” I moaned. “A wig, which I hate, loads of makeup, which I don’t love, and super-showy clothes, which I hate the most. With uncomfy shoes and half my ass hanging out.”
“I can’t imagine you dressed like that.”
“That’s the whole point.”
“I guess so, huh. Are you still going to Marcia’s tonight?” She leaned on the desk.
“I am. I don’t want to, but I have to put in friend time or she gets needy. I mean, I want to hang with her—I just don’t want to do the party thing again. I’m tired. I worked hard on that cricket project these last two days, and I’ve already gone out Monday and Wednesday this week. I don’t know how they all do it. I guess not having real jobs helps.”
“How’d the crickets work out?”
“Good. I found my angle. What are you doing tonight?”
“Not much.” Her cheeks flushed.
“What?”
“Nothing, seriously. It’s just a movie with a friend.”
“A friend?” I narrowed my gaze. “Which one? Why are you being cagey—oh my God, my brother asked you out last night!” I squealed, not excited. “I fed you chicken potpie, and you cavorted with the enemy and said yes!” It slipped out.
“Grandma gave me pie, and he’s not the enemy. He’s adorable. I couldn’t say no. He has cancer. How do you say no to someone with cancer?” She covered her eyes. “And I really like him as a friend. Which I’m trying not to process, because he’s, like, eleven and I’ve almost graduated college.”
“Dude!” I jumped up. “He’s in high school!” I had given my consent; I needed to stop, but I couldn’t.
“I know!” she shouted back, her face completely red. “But it’s just a movie. And he said he wanted company. I couldn’t say no. Gun to my head, I would have said yes even if he weren’t sick.” She gasped and covered her mouth, like her oversharing was scaring her too.
“Oh my God!” I felt a little sick and yet a little happy that she might like him back. But mostly sick. “You’re almost four years older than him.”
“Which wouldn’t matter if he were in his first year of college, but your parents held him back because he’s a November baby. And he’s crazy smart and mature for his age. Which is something creepy people say, and I know that; I hear myself. If you want to hate me for it, I’ll go hang out this one time and then never again.”
“No.” I shivered and tried not to throw up again as I recalled our bargain. “I can’t cock block my brother.”
“It’s not like that. We’re friends.”
“No. It’s more than that. And it’s fine. He’s a senior, and you’re twenty-one, and it’s not even four years. It’s not creepy for a guy to be your age and dating a girl his age, so why is the reverse creepy? It’s just weird because we’re friends and he’s my brother. But I get it. He’s awesome, and he does have cancer.” I winced. “Which is why I will ask you to go easy on him. He doesn’t do anything partway. If he likes you, he really likes you. So, try to take it slow.”
“I will. I swear.” She seemed adamant enough.
“And you have to keep this to yourself so I do
n’t die from TMI. Seeing my brother dating is like punishment for my soul. He’s still my little bro.”
“It’s not a date.”
“It’s completely a date. To him this is a date.”
“Fine, but I won’t go unless I have your blessing.” She sounded so tense.
I held my breath for ten seconds, really wanting to say no, but not able to bring myself to do that since I’d already given my blessing to Martin.
“Yeah. You do. That doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to give you loads of shit for it.” I caved. For Martin.
She leaped up and hugged me. Her fingers trembled as they dug in. “I was so worried what you’d say. You’re my friend, and hos before bros and all.”
“Right.” I had to admit that if anyone would treat my brother with respect and kindness, it’d be Hennie. And if anyone deserved a bit of a distraction from his cancer treatments, it was Martin. I had to accept that this was going to happen, being an older sister to a cute little brother and having cute older friends. Of course one day it would happen.
I just never imagined it would be Hennie.
I let go and gave her a firm smile, the kind I faked but that looked real. I’d practiced them. “Honestly, I hope he has some fun. And I hope you do too.”
“Thanks, Lacey. I owe ya one for not freaking the hell out. I think I might have if I were in your shoes.”
“Let’s just leave it there. I super don’t want to hear any details. At all. In fact, when we talk about the fun you’re having, can you lie and call him someone else?”
“Italian exchange student named Marcello?” She answered way too fast, like she’d been plotting this forever.
“Love it.” I laughed and grabbed my purse. “Give him a kick in the butt for me,” I said as we walked to the elevator.
