by Portia Moore
“You’ve been friends for three years and you don’t know what kind of books he likes?” Jade asks, snorting.
“Zach doesn’t like to read,” I say before I can stop myself.
Jade turns to him, angry. “If you don’t like to read, why would you want to read her story?”
“She’s my friend,” Zach says, but he sounds unconvincing. “I’m just trying to be supportive.”
“So if I wrote a story, you’d want to read it? Since I’m your girlfriend?”
“You’re not my girlfriend,” Zach says quietly as if it’s meant for just her to hear, but we all do.
“I mean, I practically am, though,” Jade says, recovering quickly.
Marcus leans towards me and whispers in my ear if I’m ready to go. I nod. I’d rather be anywhere than where we are.
“Well, this was fun guys, but Rain and I are going to head out,” Marcus says, putting the money for our bill down on the table. We both stand.
“It’s still early,” Zach says, looking as if he’s horrified to be left with Jade. Or maybe he’s horrified that I’m leaving with Marcus. But I’m over this date and really don’t care which it is right now.
“Yeah, me and Marcus have plans after this. You and Jade have fun,” I tell him with a big smile. Marcus offers me his arm and I take it. It feels liberating that they look a little miserable while Marcus and I are all smiles.
I can hear Jade hissing at him as I leave.
“Thanks Marcus,” I tell him as we head out.
“It was my pleasure,” he tells me, giving my arm a little squeeze. I wish I could say that all of this changes the way I feel about him, that I could give Marcus a chance, that I could stop waiting on someone who clearly is caught up in things that have nothing to do with me.
But I can’t.
I feel like an idiot.
Zach
I’m pissed by the time we leave the restaurant. I don’t even say anything to Jade as we go out to the car. We’re almost back to her house by the time she says something.
When she does, her voice isn’t angry how I expected, but flat and sad.
“You love her, don’t you?” It’s not what I expected her to ask me, but the question isn’t surprising. I’m surprised everyone I’ve come across can’t read it on my face.
“She’s my friend,” I tell Jade, not looking away from the road. “I told you, she’s like—”
“She’s not your sister. You’re in love with her.”
I pull into the driveway, turn off the headlights, so they don’t wake Jade’s parents up, and turn to face her. “You can’t treat the people I care about like that, Jade, even if you don’t like them! My whole world doesn’t revolve around you. I’m with you. That’s gotta be enough. You can’t be jealous of Rain.”
“I love you, Zach,” she says, her voice quiet.
“You don’t love me, Jade,” I tell her with a laugh, and I hear her let out an annoyed breath.
“I could, though. I could love you and you could love me too if you let the walls up you have around yourself and let someone else in besides Rain!” Before I can say anything, she climbs over the console, straddling me in the driver’s seat. “Will you let me in?” she asks as she kisses my neck.
I remind myself I can’t have Rain. I don’t deserve her.
So that leaves me here, with a hot girl straddling my lap, telling me that she could love me. What’s important, though, is she doesn’t.
When I go to the clubhouse the next day, Jade is beaming when I walk in. At first, I think it’s just because of what we talked about, and did, the night before. But then I see all of the guys clustered together, and I realize something else is going on.
I take a seat in one of the chairs, Jade perching on the arm of it. Roni is tucked under Bryan’s arm, but all of the random girls that are usually around here, all of the hangers-on, none of them are anywhere in sight, and I realize something big has happened.
Bryan looks directly at me as I lean forward. “What’s going on, dude?” I ask him.
“There’s something we want to talk to you about Zach. It’s a big deal, so listen up, brother.”
I blink at him. What is he talking about?
Bryan grins. “We’re leaving this shithole. We’ve all been saving up, and Chris’s car is finally working well enough that it should be able to handle a decent road trip. We know you’ve been working on that beast of yours, too.” He lets out a long breath. “Look, Zach, you live in the same crap we all do. There’s nothing here for any of us. None of us are going to college.” There’s a collective laugh from the whole group at that. “And there’s nothing else here but the same shit that our parents do. Serving tables or working at gas stations or breaking our backs in a factory. We want something better, and we’ve all got the skills to have it. So we’re leaving for somewhere else—hell, maybe California. Josh has an uncle out there, runs a garage that does some shady work on the side. He’d have some jobs for us for sure.”
“And why are you telling me this?” I raise an eyebrow at him. I know the answer already. I can practically hear Jade vibrating next to me with excitement. Roni looks like she’s about to explode from happiness. But I want to hear him say it out loud.
“Because we want you to come, too. That’s why I said you’ve got your Mustang, you can drive some of us out too, along with whoever can pack into Chris’s car. Look man, we can make good money out there.” I glare at them in disbelief. It’s one thing to commit a petty crime here and there as kids but to go to another state and steal fucking cars when most of us are legal adults is another.
“I’m not trying to go to prison just yet,” I tell them, and they all hem and haw.
“No one’s gonna go to prison. Don’t be a fucking pussy. We’re talking about Cali. We’ve got a place to stay and if we all pool our money together, hell, who knows what we can do out there! There’s nothing for us here, just shitty parents and a cold fucking winter coming.”
I think about it for a second—really think about it. They’re not wrong. There’s nothing for me here but the same shit I’m doing now, or worse. Degrading, cheap work, the kind that breaks down your body and your soul and doesn’t pay you shit for it. I know I’m not going to college. There’s no money for it, and my grades have never been scholarship-worthy. Plus, I’ve already dropped out of high school. And what would I do, anyway? School’s not for me; it never will be. So there’s no point. I have two choices—stay here and work myself into the dirt, or go with them and live on the wrong side of the law. The choice should be simple, but the face that appears in my mind is Rain.
I think of her, and it’s like my soul is rioting, a hollow spot where she’ll be missing if I leave. I know it will break her heart if I go. It’ll break mine too. But would it be the best thing for her? Would she hook up with someone better, someone more right for her, like Marcus? He didn’t seem too bad. He just isn’t me. I want to be on the other side of the booth with her, the one leaving with her.
The thought drives a sharp spike of pain through my heart.
“Say yes,” Jade pleads next to me. I look up at her and can see her eyes glowing with excitement. “Zach, just think about it. I can get a job out there too—waitressing, dancing, something that’ll make me good money. Between that and what you’ll make at the garage, we can get our own place. Our own apartment. We could start our own life together.”
And that’s it.
That’s the moment that I realize, looking up into Jade’s hopeful face, that I’m not going to fall in love with her. That no matter how long we’re together, or how long I was with anyone like her or Roni, or the other girls who hang around here, I’d never fall in love with any of them.
Because they’re not who I want.
A life with Jade, doing illegal shit that can land me in serious trouble once I’m legal, isn’t what I want.
I can’t leave Rain. More than my family, more than anything else, I can’t go all the way across
the country and leave her behind. Maybe we still can’t be together. Maybe I’ll never get past that. But I can’t go. And I can’t pretend to live a life that I don’t want.
I stand up, shaking my head.
“I’m sorry guys,” I say, not looking at Jade. “I can’t do it. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I wish it was different. But I have things that matter here.” I look at Jade then, at her wide eyes, her stunned expression. “I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing this…us…either. We’re done. I can’t keep leading you on.”
I see her eyes start to glimmer with tears, but she holds them back. “Is this about Rain?” she asks, her voice low and angry.
“It’s about what I want for my life. And it isn’t this,” I repeat, and turn to go for the door.
“Zach, wait!” she yells.
“Dude, don’t go,” I hear one of the guys say…maybe Joshua. But I don’t stop. I don’t turn back.
I walk right out of the door, get in my car, and peel out of the gravel driveway. And once I’m on the highway, I text Rain.
Tonight. Our usual spot?
I’m glad this happened, that I’ve had to choose a path and now know exactly which one I’m headed down.
Chapter 27
Rain
Present day
The night when I got back from the girls' night out, Vincent showed up a few hours later a little drunk but back in love with me as he’s always been. He told me how much he missed me as he made love to me the entire night. It was enough to ease the seeds of fear that had started to grow from my mom and Dena. It’s been three weeks, and my life is back to the glamourous whirlwind that it always has been, even if Vincent has had to have more and more late-night meetings. I realize it’s just a side effect of dating such a successful, powerful man. I learn to look forward to feeling his warm body slide into bed next to me early in the morning, to the sleepy sensation of snuggling back into his arms, to the times when he will wake me by rolling me onto my stomach or back to make love to me, or even spooning me and sliding between my legs, fucking me while I’m in a sort of languid dream-state, not entirely sure if it’s real or a dream.
Sort of like my life.
Each day I fall more madly in love—and lust—with him.
I’ve just gotten home from my weekly shift at the boutique—I’m rarely going in even twice a week at this point—when I see a checkbook in a Louis Vuitton Holder, as well as a debit and credit card waiting for me on the kitchen island. Vincent is making himself one of his green smoothies when I pick up the checkbook, recognizing that the account number has changed. “Vincent, what’s this?” I ask, feeling my heart starting to pound a little faster.
“I got us a joint account,” he says, without a trace of hesitation. He turns to face me, his large glass tumbler in his hand, smiling broadly. “It’s the next step for us, Poppy.” I can hear my heart beating in my ears.
What is he talking about? I stop to think of how to say what I want without causing an argument, that I know is going to begin when I say what I’m about to.
“I-I’m okay with just having my account,” I say, adding as much warmness to my voice as I can.
“You don’t need it anymore,” he says smoothly. “I added 15k to what you had in the account to start, and moved all of your direct deposits to this one—the ones from your work, and what I deposit for you.”
I blink at him. “You…what? What about the transfer for my mother?”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, Poppy, I transferred that too, although I decreased the amount to $1,000 a month. Don’t you think three thousand is a little excessive?”
“I don’t, and that’s my decision to make.” I cross my arms. “You made these decisions without me, Vincent!”
“It’s still your account, Poppy,” he says sternly, just a hint of irritation in his voice.
“That you’re on, and you can control now. Did you move all of your money and deposits into it, too? Am I on all of your other accounts?”
He blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Well…I can’t include you on my business accounts, of course.”
I feel my throat starting to burn but try to get a grip, to hear his reasoning for this.
“Everything will be easier this way. My accountant can handle it with both our names on it, and I can make decisions about it.”
“About my money?” I hate that I sound as if I’m whining like I’m a sixteen-year-old girl arguing with her dad about an allowance.
“That you wouldn’t have without me,” he counters.
A cold chill goes down my spine. “Do I get to make decisions about your money?” I say weakly.
He snorts. “I’m more experienced with business than you, remember? I deal with this sort of thing all of the time. Look, it’s just to make things easier. Brings us closer together. Don’t you want that, for us to be closer? More serious?”
“Of course I want to be serious. It’s just that…” I try to think of what to say.
I can’t say that my mother warned me that you might try to control things. That I was putting money aside just in case, and now you control that too? That now I can’t move any money without you knowing? That you decreased what I give my family without telling me? That this isn’t equal, that you control me, and I have no control over you? I want to say any and all of these things, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's pointless, and I feel tears springing to my eyes. There’s no reason to fight because Vincent is obviously smarter, and at the end of the day, he holds all the cards. My life will change drastically without him. I don’t want that…and I don’t want to lose him. I love him. Where would I ever find another man like him again?
“Look, Poppy,” Vincent says, his voice taking on the pleading, sweet quality that I know so well from every time that he wheedled me into giving in to him. “Think of it as a birthday gift to me. I want to take care of you, and now I can do that better. Let me do this for us. Do it for me. For my birthday.”
“I’m just not comfortable…”
“Let’s not make this a thing.” His voice sounds irritated as he sets his smoothie down and comes around the counter, putting his hands on my hips. “It hurts that you don’t trust me. I love you. I just want what’s best for you.”
“I’ll think about it,” I relent, just to make myself feel better, for my pride to not combust, because deep down I know that there is nothing to think about. He’s already changed the accounts. Short of me taking everything out and leaving, I have no choice but to go along with it. And I don’t want to leave. I want things to be normal.
“That’s my Poppy. My beautiful sweet flower.” He bends down and kisses me on the lips, and I sigh softly, leaning into him.
“I’ve decided to have my birthday party in the Hamptons this weekend,” Vincent says, brushing my hair behind my ear. “I thought of inviting your friends and your family. Doesn’t that make you happy? If you want that, I mean.”
I stare up at him, my eyes wide. How could he do something so sweet after something so selfish? “Of course I would!” I say, trying to relax in his arms.
“I’ll pay for everything, just leave it all to me. I’ll take care of everything like I always do,” he assures me, smiling down at me. I remember what Dena said about men like him sleeping around, and I lean against his body, laying my cheek on his chest.
Vincent isn’t like that, and he is showing me that. He only wants us to be close. Together.
“I’ll let everyone know about the party,” I promise.
“No expense will be spared to bring them, and they won’t have to spend a penny. I promise you, Poppy, they’ll have a wonderful time, and I’ll spoil them like I spoil you.”
Everything seems right. It’s not that big of a deal. He only wants what's best for me, and I’ll figure things out about getting another account and find a way to still make sure my mom gets what I promised.
It will all be fine.
The house that Vincent rented i
n the Hamptons for his birthday isn’t just a house, it’s a gorgeous mansion. Three floors, more bedrooms than I can count, has a ballroom and an outdoor pool with a massive stucco deck where the majority of the party will be taking place. I’d purchased a tight sapphire blue dress for the occasion, with a plunging U-shaped neckline held in place by rigid boning, with spaghetti straps and a thigh-length hemline. It’s more daring than what I normally would want to wear around my family, but the expression on Vincent’s face when I’d tried it on for him on our shopping trip in Rome was enough to make me push past my sense of discomfort. I’d pair it with my silver Tom Ford strappy heels and the sapphire and diamond pendant that he’d bought me for Christmas, along with the first pair of diamond studs Vincent bought me, and a matching bracelet. I felt outrageously overdressed, but the minute we arrive at the party, striding through the gigantic house out to the heated deck, I see that I’m not.
If anything, my family is. My father is wearing a suit, but next to all of Vincent’s business associates, it is clearly ill-fitting and off the rack. My mother is wearing a long-sleeved black wrap dress that fits her well but looks a little worn, and my sister has on a hot pink bandage dress that I know she probably begged my mother for days to let her wear. Outside of this environment, they would look fantastic. But next to everyone else milling around on the deck, they look cheap. My mother’s small gold earrings with the diamond accents blasé, my sister’s hoops too casual. I feel embarrassed for them and a little bit for myself, and I feel terrible for it.
Dena and Mallory are here too, wearing dresses I’ve given them. They hurry towards me, squealing their hellos and wrapping me in a three-way hug, before releasing me to let me go and greet my family.
“This is quite a shindig,” my father says gruffly, hugging me before glancing towards a bikini-clad waitress who is carrying a tray of lemon-drop shots.
My mother nudges him sharply. “Mike, remember what we talked about.”