by Amber Heart
"I guess you must be right," the man replied.
When Opal opened the door, she looked like there had recently been tears in her eyes. They were a little red and her eye liner had smudged and been partially wiped away. "Hi," she said quietly. "Oh, what?!" When she noticed the two plump bags of ice cream, her mood improved almost instantly, at least on the outside.
"I figured this way I couldn't get the wrong flavor." Boyd stepped inside and Opal grabbed both bags, then emptied them onto the table. "Hello to you too."
"Yes, I'm happy to see you. I just, wow, look at this! Oh, I love cookies and cream, and this is my favorite brand. Yes! Wow, and you got the mint swirl with raspberry. Is that caramel? Holy shit, this is best night of my life." She grabbed two spoons and sat down at the table, eyes wide and full of the deliciousness to come. "Here, grab a spoon. I don't want to look like a pig."
"You could never look like a pig, Opal. You're too beautiful." He sat down and picked up a spoon, not really feeling like anything sweet, at least not food. "So, what's going on? I can tell you're upset." He wanted to hold her, kiss her, do something that a boyfriend might do. But their relationship hadn't been upgraded to partners yet. It was all very new and strange. Boyd felt himself wanting something to drink. Instead, he decided to dig into the brightly colored ice cream Opal had started to eat.
After swallowing a large mouthful, Opal stopped to take a breath. "This is amazing. Thank you. I got fired tonight, not that long ago." She continued to eat.
"What? That's bad, right? I know you hated that job, but you needed it." The whole comforting thing was beyond his expertise. Boyd wasn't sure if he should put his arms around her or something, maybe just give her space instead. Everything seemed to be so complicated suddenly and he wanted to get out of there. "Do you want some money?" That was the wrong thing to say, as evidenced by the way she put her spoon down in the tub and looked at him like he'd just farted at a funeral.
"You can't just pay to fix this up. Aren't you even going to ask what happened?" So, Boyd asked and she told him everything in detail. He felt rightfully pissed off by the time she got through with the story.
"That guy is even worse than a—well, he's worse than me."
"You're not such a bad guy, especially when there are people like Gus walking around wasting everyone else's oxygen. It's really not a problem for me though. I'm glad I did that and stood up for myself. That place was changing me in a way that I didn't like."
"Are you referring to what we did at the carnival? To be honest, I wasn't expecting anything like that from you."
"I've been under a lot of pressure lately, let's just say. But I did enjoy that, too much even." She licked her lips and started to eat the ice cream again, slowly this time, using her tongue to savor it instead of digging in like she had been moments earlier. "You don't have to try so hard to be the nice guy, Boyd. I get it, you haven't done this whole thing before. Do you want me to be honest with you?" she asked.
That was when Boyd thought Opal was going to come clean, tell him that she was only after him for his millions, or maybe to try and work some other scheme at his expense. But she didn't. Instead, saying, "I don't want to be with you for a nice guy. You treat me just fine, better than most of my previous boyfriends actually. On top of that, you've got balls, and you make me feel like a real fucking woman for a change. Please, don't try to change yourself just to suit what you think I want, okay?"
"Shit, that's the biggest relief of my life. I'll admit that I was getting pretty uncomfortable trying to play the part of the caring guy. I mean, I do care, but what am I meant to do to cheer you up?"
"Are you kidding me? Look at all this ice cream? You do think about me. Who else would take their date to a cheesy carnival just because it would be fun? I don't think you give yourself enough credit, despite being a total womanizer and probably a petty criminal in the past."
"There's really no evidence for any of that," he said. It wasn't smart to lower his guard, even if Opal did seem to sincerely like him. "So, I'm your boyfriend am I? That's what you just said."
"You don't have any evidence for that, do you?" Opal said with ice cream still in her mouth. The color was showing through her teeth as she smiled. "Do you think I should get my teeth fixed? They seem a bit off color to me lately."
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" Boyd picked up another mouthful of ice cream and joined in the fun, making a stupid face as he chomped down, pretending to bite the metal of the spoon.
"Boy, you're going to break your teeth if you don't start eating sensible. Sit up as well, no one likes a sloucher!"
Once they'd finished playing around, and had more than enough ice cream to last anyone a week or two, Boyd brought up something he'd been thinking about. "Hey, Opal, I could help you find a job if you want; hire an agency, or even find out who set you up."
"I just might take you up on that offer. Let's just head to the bedroom for now, huh?"
Chapter Twenty-Six
Weeks went by and Opal had found a new job, thanks to the help of Boyd's lawyer, who worked her magic with a magazine publication that was in need of an entry level illustrator. It wasn't the same high level stuff she was used to, but it wasn't as bad as working at that strip club as far as she was concerned.
"I know I'm not exactly doing big things," she was telling Judith over a hot cup of coffee at a diner. "This is certainly better than the other jobs I've been applying for."
"I thought Owen was going to make sure you never got another design job again."
"Well, I guess his reach isn't as good as Felicia's. You know, Boyd offered to have her take on Owen and get to the bottom of this. Could you imagine the look on Alfred's face when he finds out I had a better lawyer than him?"
"You should totally do that! It would be amazing." Judith got so excited that she dribbled a tiny stream of coffee down her chin. "Excuse me," she said, wiping it away with a napkin with small, delicate motions. "That would cause so much mayhem. Maybe he'd just rehire you instead of trying to take you on."
"But I can't let him do that. I can't imagine what she charges per hour for appearing in court, not to mention all the extra time she'd probably need to prepare a case."
Judith shrugged. "What's the point in having a rich boyfriend if you won't let him buy you expensive gifts? Yes, I know that legal fees aren't the same as diamonds, but you deserve to finally have someone who could give you a voice about all this."
"You're right, but I feel so guilty when I think about accepting. I just can't." Opal wanted to tell her best friend that she was working Boyd over, and that's why she felt bad about accepting too much from him. She so desperately wanted to share this guilt-ridden burden with someone who might be able to give her advice, absolve her of all the bad feelings that were swirling around inside her all the time lately.
"Don't see what you've got to feel guilty about. You're not the type to ask for things you don't need, or that you haven't earned. You have been performing a lot of, duties, for him lately."
"Hey, that's enough of that talk, young lady. What I tell you about our sex life isn't to be used against me." Opal mock scolded Judith, waggling her finger at her in a ludicrous caricature of an angry teacher.
"I can't talk. It sounds like taking a walk on the wild side was the best idea you've ever had. And you've even managed to tame the untamable, you vixen. Opal, you give women everywhere high hopes. Does he have any rich friends who need a nice girl to teach them how to behave? I wouldn't mind accepting a few expensive gifts, even if you're all guilty about it for some reason."
"It's not gifts that make me feel guilty …" she replied quietly.
"What do you mean?" Judith was puzzled by that. "Is there something you're not telling me? Are things going alright between you guys? You seem so happy when you talk about him."
"What? I don't know why I said that. I just don't want to take what I don't earn. And I don't know if services rendered in the bedroom qua
lifies as taxable wage, not when you're in a relationship with the guy."
"Well, I guess that depends on what else you've been letting him do that you're keeping secret from me. I can tell you're becoming one of those, those 'bad' girls, Opal. Oh, my!"
"You're so very funny, Judith!"
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Boyd was feeling like the millions of dollars his trust fund held for him. The only thing that was lacking in his life, it seemed, was some closure about how the interview would go before the board members. Despite his dubious past, there didn't seem to be much that would stand in his way in that regard. Opal was at work, and he was looking for something to buy her as a gift. It was coming up to their one-month anniversary. As lame as it was to celebrate something like that, he'd always thought, Boyd knew this was a momentous occasion.
Opal was his first real girlfriend. Their relationship wasn't based just around sex, drugs, booze, money, and all the other things that ensured someone ended up being hurt. And she wasn't just a fuck buddy who he enjoyed talking to after sex. This felt more real than anything, since his parents died in that terrible accident at least. He tried to keep that from his mind, but being sober most of the time, and never getting truly wasted any more, made that increasingly difficult.
That's why Boyd did not know how to respond when he came across a man who looked very unhappy to see him. They were outside of Boyd's building. He'd just picked up a dainty, silver bracelet with a cute love heart on it. Maybe it wasn't the ideal gift, but he'd spent a long time choosing, and didn't just go for something that cost a lot.
"I need to talk to you, Boyd Houston," said the man. He looked familiar and it was certain that he recognized Boyd. "You're a thief."
"What? Who are you? Did my uncle put you up to this shit? Well, I'm not in the mood!" He pushed by the guy and nodded to the door man to not let him in.
"Where do you think you're going, asshole? I need to talk to you." The guy might have been a bit drunk, or maybe he'd just been up really late. He didn't smell like booze, or look like the sort of person who tended to over indulge in that sort of thing.
"You really caught me at the wrong time, pal. Just get out of my way or you're going to wish you stayed in bed this morning."
"I haven't been to bed yet. I can't sleep without her. But you've gone and ruined any chance I had of getting Opal back, haven't you!" He shoved Boyd with fairly strong muscles.
"Your name Dwayne? Are you her ex-fiancé?"
"That's fucking right, you spoilt brat. And I know all about you. I found out plenty. What do you think Opal will say when she finds out you've been lying to her?" Boyd started to sweat a little, a cold and heart breaking sweat. What could this guy possibly have dug up?
"Is it money you're after, Dwayne? We both know there's no chance in hell that Opal's going to take you back after the way you threw her under the bus. And for what? To impress your little butt buddy, Owen? You're not even a real man." It was too late to become friends with him, so Boyd figured he might as well have his say.
"Now I'm definitely going to tell her. I've got her new number now, you know. I left a message on her machine. She'll call me back, and I'll talk to her and say what you've been up to."
"You look like shit. Just go home and get some sleep. There must be plenty of boring girls for you to do the missionary position with before crying to them about being picked last for tennis at the country club."
"Look who's talking. Rich brat who's been using women like jizz rags for his whole life." The words were twisted, like Dwayne's mouth was only barely capable of actually letting them pass through.
"That's probably a really naughty thing to say where you're from. Tell you what though: Opal knows all about that stuff, and has known since the first time we met. You think I'm scared of a poser like you? You wish you came from real money, just like you wish you were as fucking awesome as me. That's what Opal wants, a guy who's actually got a pair. She doesn't give a fuck about money and fancy distractions. She's better than you, and better than me too by far."
"Then why don't you just let her go? What do you want with a girl who doesn't have sex for money anyway?" He looked like he wanted to punch Boyd, but seemed unsure of himself.
"You had your chance, and you're not such a nice guy after all, isn't that right? In fact, Dwayne, you ended up being a real jerk. While she's better than you and me, I'm still way better than you. Fuck off." He walked by and caught a fist to the back of the head. It was a hard hit, clearly from someone who worked out. But the actual motion was sloppy and unpracticed. He turned around.
"I'm going to ignore that because you hit like a little kid. I also don't think you've ever been in a fight in your life, so it wouldn't be fair to beat the shit out of you. And unlike you, I have things worth living for. I don't need the trouble. Like I told you already, fuck—off—loser." He walked inside and went to his penthouse apartment, feeling even better than he had before that altercation.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Opal went to visit her mother, which she tried to do at least once a week. Lately, however, it had been a little more difficult to get out there. At first, she'd been busy because of getting fired, looking for work, getting the job at the strip club; all the things that had been going on in her crazy life. After that, she'd become a little too infatuated with the man she was conning out of his inheritance. The guilt was making her feel like not such a great person, and she knew that was going to be hard to hide from her mother in person.
"You don't have to explain why you haven't visited me," said her mom. "Things have been tough, and you work damn hard to make sure I'm taken care of. What more could I want from my daughter?"
"Thanks, Mom. I still should have come to see you sooner."
"I wouldn't have complained if you did, but I understand. I'm so sorry you lost another job. Do you want to tell me about what happened? You weren't stealing again where you?" She had a cheeky smile on her face, as parents do when they tell bad jokes to their children.
"I guess without Dad around, you had to learn how to tell the bad jokes for him. No, Mom, I didn't get fired for apparently stealing again. This was a whole other thing. My boss was being a sleaze bag and I slapped him and told him off. But don't worry, I have a new job as a junior illustrator."
"Ooh, that sounds exciting. I might have liked to see you do that. Did you hit him very hard?"
"It made a very satisfying sound. Left a red mark on his cheek too, and a look of shock on his stupid, smug face." She made a little growling sound, like a frustrated plush raptor might make.
"Are you alright? Need some water to drink?"
"No, thanks. Can we talk about something serious though? I'm glad you're amused about me getting fired again, but—"
"Awe, honey. I think it's terrible, but you need to keep your sense of humor pretty high when you're in and out of doctor's offices and hospital rooms as much as I've been in my life. I think it's the one thing that's really kept me above the line. Tell me about this new job. Junior illustrator, did you say? But Opal, I remember when you started out doing that. The pay wasn't great. Are you going to make enough to get by?"
Opal sighed and smiled. "I know, Mom. I know … you don't have to worry about money though, is all I wanted to say. There's not a chance that I would ever let them take away your spot at this facility. You deserve such a nice place to live, with the on-staff care that you need." It was a nice, one-bedroom place, attached to a specialized medical care facility. There were carers, cleaners, and other residents who were in similar situations as Vanessa was. The cost was very high, but Opal never regretted the decision to send her mother there, not even for a second.
"Thank you, Opal. I don't expect it, but it makes me so happy to know that you'll take care of me."
"Well, you did kind of raise me by yourself after Dad was gone."
"He'd be proud to see what a great young woman you've become. I wish he could see." Vanessa looked over at the framed photograph of
her deceased husband, holding the baby Opal all those years ago before he died of cancer. "At least he doesn't have to watch me getting all these constant tests and damned operations.
"Is there any news in that department? I'm sorry, I should have asked." Opal felt guilt, even more than she already did. Here was her mother, always unwell with too many seemingly random issues to keep track of, but no one big thing, and she was worried about her own personal life as though it really mattered. This is who you're doing the plan for, Opal. Boyd would understand, she reminded herself.
"Don't worry, you'd be the first to know. So long as I stick to the doctor's orders, it looks like you should be stuck with me for a lot longer. "But, honey, where are you going to get your money from if you're not working at the restaurant anymore?" Opal had almost forgotten the lie she'd told to cover up the fact that she was working at a strip club. It was only a white lie really. She'd said she was working behind the bar at a restaurant … and they did serve wings at Gus’s shitty club.
"I might have been dating a guy."
"Oh, really? Did he help you get the job?"
"Not exactly. He's kind of rich. So don't worry, because he cares about me too much to let my mother lose her home."
"What? You're not just seeing him for money are you?"
Opal put on her best shocked face. She technically did start to see Boyd for money, even if that money was to come from Carl, but acting fake had become a secondary thing to her lately. "Mother, do you really think that of me?"
"Of course not. Okay, I'm sorry. Tell me all about this new man of yours. Is he handsome?"
"That's an understatement!"
Chapter Twenty-Nine