by Emma Doherty
He watches me for a second, and I know he’s tempted…so, so tempted.
“Your dad is Richard Baker, right?”
I frown at the direction the conversation has taken. “Yeah, so?”
“He’s one of the top entertainment lawyers in the music industry.”
Amongst other things. “Your point?”
“I want an introduction to him.”
“Excuse me?”
“I. want. an. introduction. to. him.” He states it slowly, pronouncing each word individually like I’m stupid.
“Why?” I snap.
He shrugs. “I’m trying to decide if I want to go to law school, and I have some questions I’d like to ask a successful lawyer.”
“Law school?”
“Yes.”
I screw up my face; for some reason, I can’t picture him as a lawyer. “You don’t want to be a scientist or something?”
He rolls his eyes. “I want to be rich, and judging by the car you roll around in, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say he’s doing pretty well.”
I snort. “Money doesn’t make you happy.”
“Yeah, coming from someone who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.”
I scowl. “My dad works out of town a lot. He’s not even here right now, so I can’t introduce you.” I fail to mention that he’s coming in this weekend.
“The next time he’s in town is fine.”
That is not going to happen. Flat-out never going to happen. I avoid my friends meeting my dad at all costs. “Sorry, that could be weeks away. He has a big contract he’s working on in New York.”
“I can wait.”
“Yes, well, my grades can’t.”
“That’s the deal, princess.”
I physically bristle at the use of the word princess.
“You set me up with Sasha and introduce me to your dad when he’s back, maybe put in a good word for me for an internship or something, and we can start studying tomorrow. I’ll make sure you get the grades to graduate.”
I glare at him, pissed that he’s managed to push me into this corner but also kind of impressed that he’s managed to turn this around into him getting two things out of me.
“How do I know you can do that?”
“Because I’m that goddamn smart, Abigail.”
Think of graduation, think of graduation, think of graduation.
“Okay,” I snap. I can definitely follow through with the Sasha thing, and I’ll figure out the meeting with my dad later. I can maybe set up a meeting with one of his partners or something instead, or maybe even my brother-in-law. “Deal.”
He grins triumphantly. “See you here an hour before school tomorrow.”
My eyes widen. “Before school?”
“Yup. I told you, I have to work after school most days, so the morning works better for me.”
That is so, so early. “You can’t change it?”
He rolls his eyes. “No, princess. Some of us have responsibilities, and mine certainly don’t revolve around you.”
With that, he climbs into his car, reverses out of the spot, and drives away without another word.
I guess I’m getting here an hour earlier tomorrow.
He won’t even appreciate how early that means I have to get up to do my hair and makeup.
11
I place the takeout coffee I picked up for Brett on the way to school this morning down in front of him in the library.
He looks up in surprise. I don’t think he was expecting me to be here yet. I’m ten minutes early, and to be honest, I thought I’d beat him here, but it looks like he’s engrossed in doing some homework of his own.
He looks at the coffee in front of him while I continue to sip on mine. “What’s this?”
“Salted cream cold brew with sugar-free caramel.”
He looks uneasy. “I didn’t ask you to get this.”
“No, but I was getting myself one so I picked up an extra.” I pause. “What? You don’t drink coffee?”
He clears his throat. “No, I do.”
I slide into the seat next to him and pull out my notepad and pen, and he starts shifting in his seat. The next thing I know, five dollars is placed down in front of me. “For the coffee.”
Now I’m confused. “I don’t want your money.”
“Okay, so take it out of the tutoring money.”
I screw up my face. What is he talking about?
“Would you relax? It’s just a coffee. If I knew it was going to stress you out, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“I’m not stressed out—I just don’t expect you to pay for me.”
Pay for him? I don’t expect to pay for him.
Judging by the car you roll around in…
Maybe money is a bigger deal to him than it is to me? I don’t care about money, barely even think twice about it, and that’s probably the issue. I come from a privileged position where I know I can get as much money as I need as soon as I need it.
I want to be rich…
It takes me a couple of seconds, but I have a feeling money is a pretty big deal for Brett, and he probably doesn’t like feeling like he owes people.
I clear my throat. “It’s a peace offering, for me forgetting about our session last week.”
He seems to relax just slightly.
“I really am sorry about that.”
He nods, shifting slightly. “Let’s just forget it. Okay, so let’s start with math,” he begins. “Let me see the last thing you did in class.”
Um, hang on.
“What?” he asks when I make no move whatsoever to hand over my notes.
“Are you going to drink that?”
He looks at the coffee. “Now?”
“Yes. Have you had a salted cream cold brew with sugar-free caramel before?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Not that I recall.”
“Try it. It’ll change your life.”
He rolls his eyes but dutifully takes a sip.
I watch him, but he doesn’t give anything away.
Slowly, he takes another sip.
I grin wide. “You’re welcome.”
He shakes his head, but the smallest of smiles crosses his face. “Can I see your notes now?”
I push my notebook over to him.
“I spoke to Mr. Henry about your grades.”
I’m surprised. “You did?”
“Yes, obviously. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it right, need to determine exactly what level you’re at and what the issue is.”
“And what did he say?”
“That at the start of the year, you were doing fine.”
“See? I told you I was smart.”
“He didn’t go that far.”
I scowl at him, but he has a glint in his eyes that tells me he’s joking around—at my expense.
“He also said you’ve totally fallen off over the last few months and probably haven’t taken in much, and he said you’ve bombed the last couple of tests.”
Well, yes…I guess that’s a fair assessment.
“He said it’s going to take a lot of work to pull your grades back up.”
My heart drops. I knew that, but it’s no fun hearing the words.
I reach down and grab my handbag and my wallet, pulling out the money I picked up on the way here, and I lay down one hundred and fifty dollars in front of me.
“What’s this for? We agreed on thirty.”
“Just paying in advance,” I tell him sweetly, “for the next five sessions.”
He eyes me for a second. “Is it that bad that you’re locking me down now before I look at your notebook?”
We might have just recently met, but apparently he can already read me like a book. He turns away, flipping open my notebook and immediately wincing at whatever mess I’ve made of the equation in front of him.
Yep, I’m definitely paying in advance before he decides I’m a lost cause and opts out altogether.
“How many o
f them did I get right?”
He bites his lip, not answering me as his eyes scan the paper in front of him. We’ve been studying for forty minutes, and he gave me some equations to do by myself before we finish up for the start of school.
“Wait…I didn’t get any right? Not a single one?” He looks up at me, and I can’t help letting out a groan. I really am stupid. “This is hopeless.”
“You keep skipping a step. You’re starting off right.”
I rub my eyes in irritation at myself. He told me this when he went through the equations with me at the start of our session. I swear I was listening, but I’ve still managed to screw it up.
I take a deep breath, and he holds out the paper to me.
“You need to break it up into sections. Think of it like that. You’re not going to drive your car before you’ve even turned it on.”
It makes perfect sense when he puts it like that, but I can’t seem to apply that to my written work. “I swear I was listening.”
“I know. It just takes time and practice. Let’s go again. This time you’re going to need to explain to me why you’re moving on to the next step before you do, and show how you’ve come to your final answer.”
My brain feels like it’s going to explode. “Can we just have a break?”
He must see I’m close to giving up because he nods, and the relief I feel at just having a couple of minutes’ break from math is ridiculous.
I reach for my phone as he reaches for his own notebook and textbook and starts flipping through the pages, settling on something that looks like a foreign language to me. He picks up his pen and quickly completes the equations; presumably it’s his own homework.
I try not to get envious that he’s so quick and so good when I’m finding something not even half as advanced as that so damn difficult. He really is very smart.
I reach for my phone, opening my social media and scrolling through the images on my screen, stopping for a second when I see a picture of Livy and Chase that he’s posted. They both look so happy, so perfect together, and I hate that, even now, it makes me want to cry seeing them like that.
Unrequited love is definitely a bitch.
I feel eyes on me and turn to see Brett looking at me, and I quickly clear my throat and continue scrolling. I don’t need him to think I’m over here pining after Chase. He already thinks I’m pathetic enough.
A text appears from Dan, asking if we’re still on for our date tonight.
Why not? It’s nice that he’s into it, even if I’m not entirely convinced that’s all because of me.
I type out a reply telling him I’m still in before pushing my phone away and stretching.
“Ready to go again?”
No. “Where are you going to college?”
He lets out a sigh, like he knows I’m trying to distract him. “Harvard.”
Damn!
“Where are you going?” he asks.
I scoff at that. “I’m finding it hard to pass high school. I don’t think I’m going to college.”
“Did you take the SAT?”
I nod. I actually did pretty well, and I applied to Florida State and got an offer, but I very much doubt that offer will still be there if I can’t graduate.
“So, were you planning on going to college?”
I shrug. The more I think about it, the more I think it’s not for me, especially recently, but what would I do instead? “Maybe, I don’t know. I guess.”
“Wow. Glad to see you’ve got it all figured out.”
I scowl. “Well we can’t all go to Harvard.”
“You can if you put your mind to something.”
“Harvard’s hardly the easiest place to go.”
He shrugs. “I decided when I was a freshmen that I wanted to go to Harvard, and everything I’ve done since then has gotten me to here.”
I gape at him. “You’ve been working toward college since freshman year?”
“Yes. You have to decide what you want then do what it takes to get there.”
Well I guess that makes sense.
“Have you never tried to get something and worked at it?”
I scoff. Popularity—that’s the only thing I cared about when I was a freshman, and I guess I did work at it. “I think we have different goals.”
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
Maybe? We want completely different things.
When I have nothing to say to that, he nods toward my textbook. “Come on, let’s go through it one last time.”
I glance at the clock on the library wall. “We have class in ten minutes. Let’s just be done.”
“No, you paid for an hour.”
I roll my eyes. Money again? “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you off.”
“And you have ten weeks to try to graduate.”
When he puts it like that… “Don’t remind me!”
“You’re doing this now.” He pushes my textbook back in front of me. “You think I can’t tell that you asking me about college was a ploy to kill time?” Yeah, he can see straight through me. “I want you to study this tonight, and I’m going to test you tomorrow.”
Well…isn’t that just fan-freaking-tastic.
12
“Dad’s home,” Ellie tells me quietly the second I step into the kitchen on Thursday after school, and the smile from the surprise of seeing her and Eric Jr. at the house is immediately wiped off my face.
I look around like I’m expecting him to pop up, but he’s not anywhere to be seen.
“He’s playing golf, and Mom’s at the spa. We’re supposed to meet them for dinner at seven. I have a sitter for the baby, and Eric’s coming.”
I nod, grateful that I’ve got a little bit of time to prepare myself for him being here. I wasn’t expecting him to get back until tomorrow. “Why’s he here early?”
She shrugs. “Who knows? He seems okay though. He was in a nice mood.”
That doesn’t make me feel any better. His moods are so unpredictable; they can change in a second. Just because he’s in a good mood now doesn’t mean he will be later.
“Eric’s coming to dinner?”
She nods, her eyes communicating with me what we both know. If her husband is there, Dad will be fine. He’ll be interesting and charming and charismatic. It’s only when it’s just the four of us that he can turn nasty. Actually, scrap that—there’s no can turn nasty; he is nasty.
“Okay, good.”
“Mom told me to tell you not to eat anything when you get home.”
She’s so unnecessary.
“Why would she ask me to tell you that?”
“Because I’ve put on weight.”
My sister looks appalled. “You haven’t gained weight.”
“I have, a few pounds. I just need to be careful over the next couple of weeks and I should be back to normal.”
She scowls. “You do not need to lose any weight—you’re perfect the way you are. I don’t get why she would tell you that.”
Probably because she’s never had to tell Ellie that. Ellie has the body of a supermodel and doesn’t have to do a single thing to maintain it. I’m just Mom’s shitty backup daughter who she’s always having to critique—not that Ellie’s ever made me feel like that. Ellie always has my back.
“I’m being serious, Abs. You’re beautiful. Do not let Mom get into your head.”
Like she did with her. I’ve watched Ellie pick at her meals for as long as I can remember. She was always conscious about how much she was eating. “Thanks, Abs.”
“Did you get your hair done?”
I nod. I finally found time to get my roots done yesterday, and I’m now back to looking as close to a natural blonde as I can.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about this, and I think you should go dark.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
“But I’ve always been blonde.”
“No you haven’t. When you were younger, it was much, much darker. Then you
got highlights at the start of high school to brighten it up, and then you went that bright blonde you are now.”
“You don’t think it looks good?”
“I never said that. You’re always going to look good, I just don’t think you should keep bleaching it if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to though.”
“Well that’s fine then, but it does look good dark too.”
“But Mom said…she’s always…”
She rolls her eyes. “Mom doesn’t know anything.”
“But she said—”
“Let me guess, she said guys prefer blondes and you look better like that? Said you’ll attract more rich guys that way?” She shakes her head, genuine disgust on her face. “She’s so screwed up. Mom lives in this messed-up world where she doesn’t actually know anything. You just need to think about what’s best for you and do what makes you happy.”
I stare at her for a second, she stares back, and I get the feeling she’s not just talking about my hair color anymore. She’s talking about everything.
I shouldn’t let Mom dictate my life like Ellie let her dictate hers. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her about the bartender, but something tells me she won’t share that information with me.
“I’m just telling you that you’re going to be amazing whatever your hair color is.” She lets out a long sigh. “I know you hate having to get your hair done all the time, and I know I haven’t always been the best example for you. I didn’t stick up for myself against Mom, and maybe my life would be different if I had.”
She’s never, ever said this to me before. “Ellie—”
“I’m happy,” she interrupts me. “I love Eric and he loves me, but I got lucky. I don’t want you to end up unhappy by just trying to make her happy.”
She’s right; ultimately, she did get lucky, and she met someone who actually makes her happy and also meets my mom’s standards. My mom didn’t. She’s been stuck in this hell of a marriage that she and my dad are both too stubborn to walk away from just because he has money in the bank. As I think about it, as I think about the fact that she doesn’t care that her own daughters dread their father’s return because of his behavior and the environment she’s built, I know it’s not what I want. I’m not prepared to run the risk that I might end up in a marriage like my parents by following my mom’s advice.