by Seven Steps
My heart broke. Shards of it fell to the floor in crashing crescendos.
I’ve never felt so angry and miserable in my entire life.
Girls were making fun of her because of her weight?
She thought guys weren’t asking her out because of her weight?
Didn’t she know that her curves made my mouth water? Didn’t anyone ever tell her how perfect she was?
My splintered heart jack hammered in my chest. Her green eyes were so vulnerable. Her lips so pink. It took all I had not to pull her to me and kiss the insecurities away from her, then demand that she point out every girl who’d ever been mean to her so that I could show them how much of a mistake they’d made by making her feel like any less than a goddess.
But I couldn’t do any of that because I was just her friend.
Her not rich friend.
Frustration like I’ve never known pulsed through me.
I felt trapped. Backed into a corner.
There had to be something that I could do to be worthy of this beautiful woman in front of me.
But I couldn’t do anything because I didn’t have any money.
All I could do was sit here and squeeze her hand and hope that she understood what was in my heart.
The bell rang, ending the moment we’d had together.
She pulled her hand away before I could squeeze it just one more time.
“I guess I’ll see you,” she said, collecting her books and standing.
“Yeah. I’ll see you.”
Giving me one, final, curious look, she turned and walked away.
Leaving me behind to stew.
I wanted Cassia Johnstone. More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life.
But I couldn’t have her because I had no money.
I had no…
The proverbial light went off in my head.
A plan formed, and I immediately knew that it was the worst plan in the history of plans.
I also knew that I was going to follow through with that plan.
Only two things could happen.
I’d go down in a blaze of glory, or I’d fall in love.
Either way, it was going to be glorious.
10
Someone once said, Ask for forgiveness rather than permission.
Whomever said it was a selfish jerk who only cared about himself.
Right now, I was that guy.
I’d just skipped school and taken twenty thousand dollars from my sister’s book bag and now I was heading to B. Rene, a boutique that specialized in men’s clothing.
If clothes made the man, then I was about to become the manliest man of them all.
I took the train to Wooster Street and walked up the five steps that lead to a gold door built between two columns. When I opened the door, I was treated to the undeniable scent of very new, and very expensive clothes. It was way fancier than my usual Walmart attire.
A single, thin, clean shaven man in a fitted black t-shirt, tight jeans, and boots stood near a buff mannequin, straightening a leather jacket.
He eyed me, then turned his attention back to his jacket.
“No solicitors,” he called.
I frowned. I may not have looked like much, but he could have at least asked if I was shopping for something.
I thought about taking my twenty thousand elsewhere, but this was the brand the popular kids wore and I needed to be seen as their equal.
Plus, I didn't like being dismissed.
“I’m, uh, here for some clothes.”
The man’s gaze slid back to me. He took in my dark hoody, jeans, and boots, then scrunched his nose as if I smelled bad.
Which I didn't.
“This is a high-end boutique,” he said. “Not Walmart.”
I took offense to that. I liked Walmart.
“Okay then. I just came into twenty thousand dollars, but I guess I’ll spend it elsewhere.”
Before I could turn to leave, the man had sprinted across the room and was at my back.
“Wait!”
I paused, happy that I was getting the reaction that I was going for.
“Yes?”
One thin hand curled around my shoulder. “Show me.”
“Fair enough.” I took a step forward, swung off my book bag and unzipped it just enough for the man to see my bundles of money.
He was silent for a moment.
“Where did you get that?” I could hear the suspicion in his voice. Good thing I was ready for it.
“My uncle died,” I said. “He didn’t believe in banks, so he had all this money in cash. The funeral was on Sunday, and now I’m here.”
“And you didn’t deposit it into a bank?”
I grinned. “I don’t believe in banks either. It’s the old mattress vault for me.”
The man leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms. I could tell he was still suspicious.
“I have to tell you, I need a bunch of new stuff. Shirts. Jeans. Fancy jackets. And if you can’t help me, I’ll just have to take my money and go.”
I practically saw the dollar signs ringing in his eyes. I guess his need for commission won out over his morals. His voice turned from irritated to enthusiastically helpful.
“Well, sir-”
Sir? I liked the sound of that.
“- You’ve already come all this way. And you are definitely in need. Let’s start with some shirts. You look to be about a medium.”
“Large, my good man. I like it roomy.”
He smiled, bobbed his head and waved me deeper into the store. “Right this way. I’m sure we can more than accommodate your needs.”
I zipped my book bag back up. “As am I.”
I’ve never been a shopper, but the idea of getting an entirely new wardrobe sounded kind of fun. The stuff in this store looked expensive without looking outlandish, which was exactly the look I was going for.
It took the man I’d come to know as Zachary nearly three hours, but he’d given me enough clothes to last a solid two weeks in school without wearing anything twice. Plus, he’d shown me how to mix and match the outfits so I could squeeze another two weeks out of them. He’d even given me underwear that were both supportive and light weight, undershirts, socks, shoes, cologne and aftershave.
By the time I walked out of there, I’d spent fourteen thousand dollars.
I was careful to keep the receipts.
“Alex, it has been an absolute pleasure dressing you today,” Zachary said. He was a cool guy once one got past the superiority complex. “Should I call you a cab to take you to the salon?”
“Salon?”
“Sure. I was trying to be subtle. Did it work?” His eyes slid to my brown hair, then back to me.
“Oh. My hair.”
“And your eyebrows. A good shave wouldn’t hurt you either. And a manicure.”
I touched my hair, which suddenly felt very wrong. I hadn’t considered getting a haircut today, but I guess I should listen to Zachary. After all, he knew fashion better than I ever could. And I needed to be seen as part of the in crowd tonight.
“Yeah. Sure. Which salon is it?”
He waved my comment away. “Don’t worry. It’s close, and I have a personal friend there who will take good care of you.” He dialed a number on his phone and listened to it ring.
“Marco? It’s Zach. I have a customer coming your way. And I should warn you. He’s going to be a doozy.”
Three hours, a haircut, some dye, an eyebrow wax, a shave later, and a mani-pedi later I was out the door, feeling less like myself than I’d ever felt in my life.
My clothes cost nearly as much as it’d taken to pay off Ms. Tuck’s condo.
My face felt smooth, my brows sculpted, my hair trimmed short and gently gelled to give it some height.
I looked in the window of the cab as I made my way back to my apartment.
I looked good.
Really good.
“Hot date tonight?” He asked.
> I glanced at him, then continued to check myself out.
“Hopefully.”
“Going someplace special? I got a guy who can get you a great deal on some Broadway tickets.”
Broadway tickets? What an idea. I could take Cassia to a Broadway show and dinner afterwards. It was a little ordinary, but I had a feeling she would appreciate it.
“Get your guy on the phone. Tell him to book us for Thursday night. The best seats in the house.”
I was going to ask Cassia out on a date. But I had a few things to do before I truly became the prince she deserved.
I took out my phone and started making some calls.
Ms. Tuck was definitely going to freak out when she found out I’d missed two days of school.
But being grounded was worth it.
Anything for Cassia was worth it.
I snuck another hundred thousand bucks from Lindsey’s closet and started on my mission.
After making a ton of phone calls, I waited outside school for Andrew Johnson, leader of The F.E.W to make his exit.
I spotted him just as his car was picking him up.
“Andrew. Wait.”
Andrew’s blond head turned to me with a start. I guess he wasn’t used to people shouting his name in the streets.
I jogged over to him and stopped a minute to catch my breath. He squinted at me in the sunlight.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
“Yeah. It’s me. Alex Wells.”
“Oh right. Alex. You’re in my lunch period, right?”
And economics, gym and Spanish. But that didn’t matter now, so I pressed on.
“Yes.”
His brows furrowed. “Can I help you with something?”
“Yes. I hear that you’re good with money.”
“Yes?” I saw impatience building in his eyes and decided to cut right to the chase.
“My aunt just died, and she left me with a crap ton of money. I mean, I barely know what to do with it.” I paused allowing the idea to sink into his head and take root. “I figured that I could get some good investment tips from you. I'd pay you, of course. Whatever you want.”
He began to laugh, then thought better of it. “You want to give me money to help you invest?”
“Sure. Why not? I mean, you're Andrew Johnson, right? Who’s better at managing money than you?”
Andrew looked me over and mulled on my proposed plan.
“Well, you’ve cleaned up. That’s saying something. Maybe I can have you come by tonight. I can help you with a few transactions and maybe you can sit in on our meeting.”
“A F.E.W. Meeting? Wow. That would be fantastic. A real honor.”
“I should warn you that my commission is forty percent.”
“Perfect. I’m sure that’s more than a fair price.”
He grinned. “Yes. Right.” He pulled open the car door. “Be by my place at seven. Don’t be late.”
“Thanks for the help Andrew. I really appreciate it. Oh, one more thing.”
I placed my hand on the frame of the door just as he stuck one foot inside.
“Is John Johnstone going to be speaking tonight?”
Andrew looked confused.
Good. I didn’t want him making any premature connections.
“Yes, he typically has his mentoring session with us tonight. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. See you tonight.”
I let go of the door frame and, with one more confused look, Andrew climbed into his car and quickly sped away.
I gave myself a light pat on the back. Things were starting to work out according to plan.
I’d convinced Andrew to let me into a F.E.W meeting.
Now I’d just have to convince John Johnstone that I was just as good as Grant.
I pulled out my phone and made a few more calls.
11
The F.E.W meeting was in full swing.
I arrived early enough for Andrew to talk me through investing in companies that I’d never heard of. Now, I sat in Andrew’s massive living room, surrounded by the Future Entrepreneurs of the World, or the F.E.W. The living room looked exactly how I expected Andrew’s house to look.
Dark, comfortable leather couches. Dark wood floors with heavy, oriental rugs. A fireplace.
It was definitely the swankiest place I’d ever been in.
I pulled at my suit jacket nervously. I was sure to dress like I’d seen the other guys dress. White shirt, no tie, black suit, shiny black shoes, no visible phone.
With my hair slicked back and my freshly shaven face, I was indistinguishable from the rest of the F.E.W members, which was exactly what I wanted.
My attention split between Cassia, sitting in a comfortable chair across from me, and her father standing near the fireplace, giving a speech about building a company brand.
Cassia had been giving me confused looks since she spotted me here. It’d taken everything I had to stay away from her. And I had to stay away from her for two very important reasons.
One, I wanted to put off lying to her for as long as possible.
And two, I wanted to make a bang-up impression in front of her father, and if she was standing next to me, I’d probably get distracted and screw it up.
And so, I did the one thing I didn’t want to do.
I stayed away.
But not for long.
When John Johnstone finished his spiel, I was the first one to run up to him.
“Mr. Johnstone. It’s a pleasure.”
John Johnstone shared his bright green eyes and blonde hair with his daughter, but his build was bigger, almost like a bodybuilder, and his skin had a reddish tint to it, like he’d been burned in a tanning bed. There was a hardness to his features. Like someone who'd seen too much of the world.
Yup. This guy was no one on trifle with. I’d better turn up the charm on him, and fast.
“Alexander Wells, sir. It was an honor hearing you speak tonight. I’ve been following your career for a long time and I just wanted to say that you are an inspiration.”
That won me my first smile. I’d learned somewhere that giving resect is the fastest way to get someone to respect you. And I needed his respect like I needed oxygen right now.
“Thank you, son. Nice to see someone so young taking an interest in business.”
“I do sir.” I looked him square in the eye, fully preparing my pre-rehearsed story. “I’ve always had an interest in helping businesses grow and financial advising, but having come from humble beginnings, I thought I’d never be able to use the knowledge. Now, I’m doing a little better for myself, and your speech really sparked a fire within me to keep moving forward.”
His eyebrows raised. I had him interested. Now to reel him in. “Yeah? Tell me about it.”
“Well, sir, my parents died when I was very young. I live with my aunt now. She’s kind and sweet and an excellent cook, but she’s not very business savvy. So, I helped her invest in a few larger companies, you know, to get her feet wet.” My face took on a nonchalant expression and I shrugged, as if I did this every day. “Two years later, she just brought her first Porsche last week. She’s like a little speed racer now.”
Mr. Johnstone put his meaty hand on my shoulder, his smile wide and inviting.
Exactly what I was hoping for.
“Son, its stories like this that make this all worthwhile.”
“Thank you, sir. I hope that when I graduate college maybe we can find the time to work together. I’d love to learn anything you have to teach me.”
“Son, it would be my pleasure. Have you met my daughter?”
Jackpot.
John waved over Cassia, who practically sprinted to us. I could see the curiosity bursting in her eyes. She wanted to know why I was here and, more importantly, why I was talking to her father.
“Cassia, this is Alexander Wells. Fine young man.”
John put his hand at his daughters back and beamed at her.
Cassia’s eyes were
glued to me. Waiting.
“Yes, we have a few classes together,” I said.
We shook hands, and I didn’t miss the amusement in her eyes. It was nice to feel her hand in mine.
“Nice to see you again, Cassia.”
“You too, Alex.”
She turned to her father. “Alex tutors me sometimes. He has one of the highest GPA’s in the school.”
I grinned like a Cheshire cat.
“Thank you, Cassia.” She kept her eyes on me, waiting to see where I was going with all of this. Well, Cassia, strap in. We’re about to ride this thing into the sunset.
“Smart,” John said. “I like that.”
I turned my attention back to back to him. “Thank you, sir. And, I hope you don’t mind but I did some research on you. I understand that you enjoy the theater.”
John laughed shortly. “As a matter of fact, I do. My mother did several productions throughout her life. She was a beautiful actress. Simply breathtaking.”
“I’m a theater man myself.”
John looked impressed. “Any favorites?”
I laughed exactly how he’d laughed a moment ago. “Favorites? That’s like asking a man to choose his children. I love them all. In fact, I have two tickets to Hello Dolly playing this Thursday night. I’d brought them here in hopes that you would do me the honor of taking them and enjoying the show on my behalf. You’ve inspired me so much these past few years. I just want to give a little back.”
Emotion played across John’s face. “Hello Dolly was my mother’s favorite play. She starred as Dolly for three years straight back in Houston, Texas.”
I’d gathered this from the thorough Google search I’d done on John Johnstone earlier that day.
“Fantastic play, sir. I’ve seen it four times already.” I pulled two tickets from my pocket and handed them to him. “Here. They’re yours. All I ask is that you tell me how you liked it. Maybe even over lunch, if you have the time.”
John slowly took the tickets, looking at them, then at me. I couldn’t read him, and I swallowed back my fear.
“Unfortunately, I am otherwise engaged on Friday.” He slapped the tickets against his palm, once, then twice. His mouth pinched, and I wondered when was the last time someone had given this insanely wealthy man anything?