by Tara Brown
“Ouch.” Monty winced.
“Ouch isn’t the right word. She flayed me right there on the subway platform in front of a bunch of strangers. Said I had no integrity.”
“I did warn you.”
“I thought you were warning me against hitting on her because she was practically your sister, not because she was savage as fuck.”
“No. Savage. As. Fuck.” He scoffed. “She can take care of herself. She’s from Brooklyn. I scare guys into thinking I’ll mess with them for hitting on her and wanting some side action, but a lot of the time I’m trying to spare a guy some heartache and humiliation. She’s fast and harsh and witty and smart. It’s deadly.”
“Yeah, I have all the bruises to show for it. She handed me my ass at the party. Chewed my head off in the elevator. Crushed me in the foyer. And then obliterated the last bits on the subway platform.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, she did much worse to France. Homeboy still can’t get a date in New York. Not with a nice girl, that is. He’s seeing models and pretending he’s happy, but I know for a fact his dad is pissed that he’s not with someone proper.”
“Oh, I don’t assume she’s done with me.” I laughed bitterly, almost crying at the end. “I am certain more is coming down the line. She probably saved the real public humiliation for later.”
“Probably. But I bet you won’t ever hit on another girl while you’re still dating anyone else. Like Amy, for example.”
“Amy who?” I gave him a look. “All kidding aside, I asked her out to a late lunch today, hoping to end this civilly. I suspect her family has the same expectations mine does. So there’s no reason we can’t find a mutually beneficial way to break things off without either set of parents making it weird. It’s not like we’ll escape seeing each other. Our dads are dating. But we could try to make this a clean break. I’m thinking if she and I are on the same page, like she wants to call this charade off as well, maybe our dads won’t blame either of us.”
“Bro, you might need something harder than a beer.”
“Why, you got some coke lying around from high school?”
“No.” Monty chuckled. “I missed you. We haven’t hung out in ages.”
“I know, I miss you too. Marcia hating Stephen, even married Stephen, has sort of killed the bromance time.”
“It has. We let girls come between us. Anyway, what are you going to do about the whole Lacey thing? Cause if we’re gonna hang out, you’re going to have to patch things up with her.”
“Pretty sure I won’t be invited back to any parties at Marcia’s house for a long time.”
“Marcia loves me, so at the very least, she’ll have to like you by association, and she didn’t even notice Lacey was gone last night until way later, when everyone was going to the club. Marcia assumed she was drunk and got Darren to drive her home. Lacey had a weird week.”
“Yeah, and I made it so much better by being a dirtbag.”
“You’re not a dirtbag. You made a bad choice getting up in her grill. You should have dealt with Amy before you ever went for Lacey. She’s not one of us. She expects more than girls from the Upper East Side. She doesn’t get the mutual affairs and joint-business-venture side of things either.”
“I don’t understand the mutual affairs and joint-business-venture side of things. And you can’t tell me you and Marcia are cool with them.”
“Hell no. She’s my girl for real. No one touches her.” Monty didn’t kid around when it came to Marcia. His parents were exempt from affairs too. The worst thing they ever did was buy a new penthouse instead of keeping their old family mansion when Old Monty died.
“I’m going to lie low for a while after I break things off with Amy today. If it doesn’t go well, I’ll be having a very long conversation, or short depending on his mood, with my dad about where I stand with our family.” I sighed, knowing how it was going to go.
“You come here, bro. You come here. You know how Mom and Dad feel about your dad. My mom hates him. She’ll rename you as one of her sons. She loves you. So if shit with your dad goes bad and Captain Jack can’t see that this is fucked up, even if it’s a billion dollars of fucked up, then you still have family with us.”
“Thanks, man.”
“And no lying low. Jesus. You’re home for the summer. You have done nothing wrong. Your family shit is unrealistic and insane.”
“I know.” I was grateful for Monty. He saw through the bullshit.
But I would need to lie low.
Last night after the incident, I went home and sent the Test Dummy my gift cards for payment to get the ball rolling and get me tested by them. So I had to assume at some point, I was going to be tested. I would fail, naturally, and if Amy and I couldn’t come to a nice understanding, then she would get that video from me. I would test the waters at lunch and see if she needed that extra excuse to break up or if there was a chance that maybe we were on the same page. Maybe this could be handled mutually and strategically.
“But we’re still on for the poker game tonight, right? No matter what? I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Yeah. Fine. It’ll be fun to have some guy time.” Another lie. I was never going to have fun again. Not until I could get past this Amy thing. “I won’t be long with Amy. Maybe an hour.”
“Okay. I’ll pick you up at seven from your place?”
“Sure. Unless I show up with what’s left of my stuff.” I shrugged.
“Yeah.” He narrowed his steely gaze. “I know you want to stay home and lick your wounds, but the best way to get over this is to prove to Lacey that your intentions were never creepy or underhanded. She’s not a fan of underhanded.”
“I gathered.” I got up and finished off my beer. “I better go and face this music. Wish me luck.”
“Amy isn’t the one you need luck with.” He laughed again and waved me off.
I walked to the car that was waiting for me and climbed into the backseat, jumping when I saw Stephen. “Holy fuck! What are you doing in here?” How did he know where I was?
“Coming to check on my baby bro. When Jenson said he was going to pick you up and take you to the Modern, I knew something was up. Is this the plan to finally get rid of Amy?”
“Yeah. I’m going to do it now. We’re meeting in, like, half an hour. I’m gonna forget everything Mom and Dad and Grandpa said and just end it. Fuck ’em.” I laughed bitterly. “My plan is firstly to try to get her to amicably end it, both of us friends and our dads still friends and business partners. If that doesn’t work, I have another plan in the works. It will get me kicked out of the family, but I can’t do this anymore. A week has been misery.”
“That’s the spirit.” He slapped my leg. “Be a dick, and get what you want. Dad is all talk. Fuck, Grandpa Jack never would have dated someone he didn’t want to. And Dad wouldn’t have either. Mom might have been coerced into hanging with Dad, but he wanted her. Even with all his bullshit, I think he loves her. And in a creepy Stockholm Syndrome sort of way, I think she loves him too.”
“Now you’re pushing it.”
“No, for reals. She doesn’t leave, even though she could. She could have her own life if she wanted it. Instead she sticks it out. She goes on all those fishing trips and lives in the shadow of his life, but she never complains or tries to change things for herself.”
“I don’t know, man.”
“Anyway, don’t pussy out. Be a man. If you get disowned and kicked out, you’re free.” His voice cracked a tiny bit.
“Yeah, I’ve heard I need to man up more.”
“Fuck yes, you do. It’s sad seeing this shit going on. And then once you’re broken up, you can tap Lacey Winters’s ass and give me all the dirty details.”
“You’re disgusting.” I shook my head. He was never going to grow up. Not even when Cynthia forced kids on him. And if I ever had something to tell, I would never spill a single thing about what went on between me and Lacey Winters. In the first place, I was
a gentleman and didn’t go for bragging, and in the second place, the way Lacey had treated me so far seemed to indicate that I wouldn’t have anything to brag about, possibly ever. After she had treated me like her personal doormat, I didn’t really want anything from her at the moment anyway, except maybe my dignity handed back to me in one piece.
Chapter Twenty-One
DEAL WITH THE DEVIL
Lacey
“Hennie, I need your help.” I spoke quietly into the phone. “Can you get on the subway in, like, ten minutes, and I’ll meet you there?” I’d made an executive decision about the order in which the Test Dummy guys had to be outed based on their schedules, but I didn’t want Martin to know. He would not have gone for my methods.
“Um, sure. Why?” She sounded hesitant.
“Just trust me, I need help. Look pretty. If I don’t make your train, get off at Fifty-Seventh Street. I’ll meet you there.” I stuffed the bag I was taking with me with everything I would need and prepared for the worst half hour of my life. This one was like a Band-Aid, and it just needed ripping off. I couldn’t think; I needed to act.
Otherwise I was going to chicken out.
“Okay. Is this life or death?”
“Yes.” I closed my eyes and tried not to feel sick about what I was going to do.
“Like, real life or death.” She laughed.
“I swear, it is.”
“Fine. See ya there.” She hung up, and I tried not to feel terrible for roping her into this, but I didn’t have a single other idea.
When the bag was packed, I headed down the stairs, meeting Grandma at the bottom.
“You’re going out again?” she asked.
“Yeah, just to see Hennie for a couple of hours, and then I’ll be back. When are Mom and Dad coming back home?”
“Your dad won’t be back until next week, but your mom is on days off starting tomorrow. I think she’s actually taking one of them off this time.” She sounded drained.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. Just make sure you’re going to be back later. I’m going out with some friends for a movie, and I don’t want to leave Martin alone.” She was talking about him like he was five. This was going to go over really well. He loved being coddled. A lot. No wonder I hadn’t seen him all morning; he was hiding in his room.
“Yeah, I’ll be back.” But then I would be out the door again. And now I didn’t know how I would manage to leave him behind, go catch the dipshit DJ with his pants down, and then be back in time for Grandma not to realize I’d left a second time.
That was going to be a later problem. I had too many other issues right now. But if all went well, I’d have an extra two thousand dollars at the end of today and proof that Jordan was exactly the piece of shit I assumed he was. The asshole nuts didn’t fall far from the asshole trees on the Upper East Side.
“See ya in a bit.” I kissed her cheek and left the house.
“Bye, dear,” she called after me, waving out the door. She really was the most intense of all the grandmas. Martin having cancer wasn’t making her helicopter tendencies better. At all.
When I got on the train, Hennie was there as planned. I jumped on the same car as her, huffing from running to make it and sweating from wearing a hoodie—my version of incognito.
“What are you wearing? It’s got to be eighty degrees outside.” She grimaced at my clothes. If Hennie was judging, it was a bad choice.
“I have a job for you and I need to be hidden, thus the hoodie.” I sat next to her and sighed, preparing myself mentally for the spiel I was going to have to rock, or she would say no. Rightfully so. “I have a weird proposition.”
“Your propositions are always sort of weird. You have this dramatic life I can’t really comprehend most days.” She didn’t say it hurtfully, and I tried not to take it that way.
“Duly noted. Anyway, I got asked by Amy Weitzman to test Jordan Somersby,” I whispered.
“Jordan Somersby. The Jordan? My fantasy man?” She didn’t sound excited, even if the sentence should have been one you said excitedly.
“Yes, the very one. I guess they’re sort of dating. She wants him tested to see if he’ll cheat. I think they both desperately want to get out of the relationship, and she needs ammo to end this or their parents won’t let them. We’re doing her a favor, essentially. And I guess him. I saw him last night, and he did not sound excited about being forced to date her.” I laid it on extra thick.
“Wait.” Hennie started to realize where this was going. “You want me to test him, don’t you?”
“Yeah. It has to be you. He knows me. Like, I saw him last night. And no one else knows about the Test Dummy. They can’t. So I am completely out of options.”
“I don’t know.” She started to squirm.
“It’s so easy. Amy says that he’s meeting her for lunch today at the Modern. He’ll arrive early and drink in the bar first, as he always does. You honestly just have to flirt and see if he flirts back, then ask if he wants to get a drink later, and he says yes, and you say, ‘Okay, meet me back here in two hours.’ He’ll agree because of your mad skills, you’ll be wearing this pin that records it all, and you’ll leave. Never to see him again.”
“It doesn’t sound easy. And why would Jordan Somersby want to meet me? He can have anyone he wants. Not to mention he might recognize me from school.”
“Not when I’m done with you.” I opened the bag to let her see everything in it.
“Oh my God. I can’t.” She squirmed even more. “I can’t.”
“Remember when you said you’d be there if there was anything you could do to help me in my desperate time of need?” It might have been manipulative; I would mentally check myself later.
“Lacey.” She gave me a pleading scowl. “Please don’t guilt me. I can’t say no to your ‘my little brother has cancer’ face.”
“I’m begging, please. Do this five-minute favor for me, and I will owe you forever.” I pouted just a little. “One time.”
“Fine!” she gasped, and slumped on the subway bench, looking like she was losing out in this bargain even though I was doing all the hard work. All she had to do was ask him out. Easy. He was gorgeous and would be sitting alone. How hard would that be?
Taking my win, even if she was probably angry with me, I began recreating her.
Wanting to ingratiate myself to the upper echelons of society meant I needed a skill.
Makeup was the one my friends required the most.
Desperate to fit in, I’d become a master, following drag queen YouTube tutorials. No one blended like a drag queen.
I started with the makeup, trying to work with the jerking and swaying of the subway cars while adding a ton to what she already had going and contrasting and highlighting a lot to change her appearance. By the time I was done, she resembled Mandy Moore. I dragged out a silky brown set of extensions and started brushing and clipping them into place, giving her lush, long hair.
“When we get to the restaurant, you run to the washroom and change into the outfit I brought.” I hung on to the pole and held up a garment bag with a cute summer dress. I’d seen the way Jordan had eyed mine the night before. He clearly liked summer dresses.
We got some strange looks from people, but it was New York, so whatever.
“This is insane.” She grabbed the mirror from my makeup bag and gasped. “Oh my God. What did you do to me?” She touched her face lightly. “Dude.” She lifted her gaze to mine. “You are really good at this.”
“You like it?” I asked, a little scared from her reaction.
“It’s amazing. I look like a celebrity. I look like you.” She gave me a scowl. “And you look homeless?”
“Glad you’re happy. Let’s hurry.” We got off and hauled ass to the Museum of Modern Art, then slipped into the bathroom. She took the garment bag and went in. She came back after a few minutes and passed me the bag back, clearly full of her clothes.
She held her ar
ms out, and I smiled. “Cinderella,” I said.
“I mean, I don’t know.” She sighed, losing her confidence. “What if he’s not alone, or he doesn’t want a drink, or he doesn’t like me?”
“No what-ifs.” I lifted the pin and put it on her dress in the seam so it was a little camouflaged. “This is how you work the camera,” I whispered as I twisted it to the right once. Then I turned it back to the left. “See. Easy.”
“Whatever.” She looked like she might get sick but turned on her heel and stalked off. Her gait didn’t match her outfit until she got to the bar. Then she stood up tall and slim and sauntered in, earning looks from multiple guys.
The one in the corner with the perfect hair and smile, the target we were there for, didn’t notice her. Not until she came and sat next to him at the bar. Fortunately he didn’t have anyone on either side. He smiled as she sat down while fingering the pin.
He smiled at her in a way that made my stomach ache. I prayed to all that was holy he would turn her down. He would prove he wasn’t the person I thought he was. It dawned on me then that I was testing him not only for Amy, but for myself. In a perfect world, Jordan would turn down Hennie, dump Amy like a man, and then ask me out. Proper like. I’d make him sweat a little—make him work for it. And then, we’d have amazing sex, like I had been planning to in the bathroom on the boat before I was forced back to my senses. Seeing Jordan across the room, my senses were primed toward wild and passionate.
Whoa.
I was jumping in a little fast, considering he was a trust-fund dude.
But his speech the night before, that his family would disown him, had broken my heart. I’d been rude and horrid to him, and it bothered me. In the light of day now, it made me feel worse. Yes, he was dating a girl for money; it was gross. But at least he was conflicted about it.
My whole body was tense as Hennie started talking and swooning, the way she was prone to do with cute guys. She never acted this way with Martin, but I’d seen it at the office a few times. Hot guys made Hennie uncomfy.
