Hating the Rich Bastard

by Hamel, B. B.

  He left, and I have no clue where he went.

  I hope he’s dead.

  Turns out, Nana didn’t have that much money at all. I’ve been helping her since the start. I dropped out of school, got a job, and never looked back.

  The only good thing I have in my life is music. It’s the only thing I can count on to survive. It pays my bills and makes me hate everything a little bit less.

  I toss the bills aside, banishing all those thoughts from my mind. I can’t keep dwelling on this sad fucking story. My dad’s gone, my brother’s useless, and it’s all on me to take care of my nana.

  I won’t let her down like everyone else let down my mother.

  I have to get up and walk away from my bills. I’ll write checks tomorrow, checks I hope will clear. Right now though, I need to get myself together.

  I stand at the counter, taking deep breaths. I go through the motions of brewing some coffee even though I already have a mug. I need something to keep my hands occupied, to stop them from shaking.

  This is why I try not to think about my father. I start to lose it, and I can’t afford it lose it. I can’t afford any weakness at all.

  My phone rings suddenly, loud and piercing. I jump a little, not expecting it. I stare at the vibrating metal slab and laugh a little.

  “Don’t be so stupid,” I say softly out loud to nobody.

  I walk over and pick it up, answering without looking. “Hello?”

  “Hello, stranger.”

  I smile despite myself. It’s almost like a reflex. “Hi, Ben,” I say. “It feels like I was just with you.”

  “That’s because you were. In your dreams.”

  I snort a little. “Good one.”

  “Thanks.”

  “To what do I owe this early morning pleasure?”

  He chuckles softly. “I want to see you again.”

  “Again?”

  “Right now.”

  “Now?” I chew my lip and check the clock. “I don’t know. I have to work.” That’s a lie and I know it.

  Truth is, I’m afraid to see him again. I’m afraid to get involved with him.

  Ben has a bad reputation. Anyone that knows the music industry knows about the playboy owners of Somesuch. Ben’s notorious, especially among the people that work for him.

  I’ve heard all kinds of things. About his drug use, about him sleeping around, about him missing meetings because he’s too hungover to get out of bed. He’s flighty and he’s no good.

  He’s also gorgeous and intelligent and funny. And filthy rich. And interested in me, for some insane reason.

  He’s so much like my father though, and it scares the hell out of me.

  “Skip it,” he says.

  “I can’t. I need to work for money, unlike some people.”

  “I’ve worked enough for one lifetime.”

  “Well, I haven’t.”

  He laughs again. “I’ll buy you out. How much are you gonna make today?”

  “Are you… are you suggesting you’ll pay me to spend time with you?”

  “No,” he says. “I don’t want to make you feel like a whore.”

  “I’d only be a whore if we fuck.”

  “Well…”

  “Ben,” I say.

  I can hear the grin through the phone. “Come on. You’ll be my companion. My paid date.”

  “No sex, though.”

  “What’s your rate?”

  I pause. This is a slippery slope and I know it. Taking this guy’s money can lead to other things, other entanglements… and I know I shouldn’t. It’s so unethical it’s horrifying.

  But I glance down at my nana’s bill and I know I have no other choice.

  “Two thousand,” I say. “That’s how much I’d make normally.”

  “Let’s make it an even three.”

  “Three isn’t even.”

  “Four then. Cash or check?”

  “Check is fine. I hear you’re good for it.”

  “Nice doing business with you. There’s a car outside waiting.”

  I blink for a second then walk across my apartment to look out the front window. Sure enough, there’s a car sitting there, the same car from last night.

  “How did you know I’d say yes?”

  “I had a feeling.”

  I frown. “You’re impossible.”

  “You’re going to make four thousand dollars plus have a really good time. Are you still complaining?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Get your pretty ass in that car. I’ll see you soon.”

  He hangs up the phone.

  I stare out the window for a second, torn into pieces.

  I want to see him. I’m afraid to see him. He’s everything I hate in a man, all the things I hated in my father. But he’s also more than that. I caught a glimpse of it last night.

  Plus, I’m pregnant with his baby.

  “Shit,” I whisper.

  How did things get so complicated so quickly?

  I hurry into my bedroom and get dressed. I don’t have any time to think about it, so I settle on short jean shorts and a black t-shirt. I fix my hair, do some quick makeup, and I’m out the door ten minutes later, hurrying down to the car.

  I’m probably going to regret this. Taking his money is a very, very bad idea.

  But my nana needs it. At the end of the day, I’m going to do what I have to do to help her survive.

  With a lump in my throat, I climb into the car and it pulls out into traffic.

  7

  Ben

  I hold the axe up above my head, my hands gripping the wooden handle. Alice’s eyes go wide, and I think I see a tinge of fear.

  The blade is sharp and gleams in the light. “Scared?” I whisper to her.

  She shakes her head. I grip the axe harder.

  I heave it forward, releasing on the downward motion. The axe leaps forward from my hands, flipping twice to smack into the wooden target ten feet away from me, blade biting deep into the wood.

  Alice laughs and claps. “Wow!”

  I grin at her. “Your turn.”

  She steps up to the table and picks up one of the throwing axes. I stand behind her a little bit as she stands square, facing the target across from her.

  We’re at City Axes, a relatively new place. It’s an axe-throwing bar, where they serve alcohol and let you throw incredibly dangerous and deadly axes at a wooden target. It sounds stupid but it’s shockingly fun, like bowling on fucking steroids.

  “How do I do this?” she asks me.

  “Hold it like this.” I demonstrate the grip with both of her hands, adjusting them slightly. “Okay, now bring it up above your head. Feel the weight?”

  She nods, holding it up. “Yeah, up in the top.”

  “Right. So you’re aiming that toward the other end. Release on the down motion, but not too low, sort of around your eyes.”

  “Got it.” She bites her lip and I step back.

  “Do it,” I encourage.

  She hesitates then brings it down. She holds on too long, releasing somewhere around her chest, and the axe releases. It flies forward and bangs down into the ground a few feet away.

  “Shit!” she says, and I laugh as the axe slides to a halt against the wooden wall.

  “You held it too long. Here, watch.” I walk over, grab the axe, and walk back to the blue line. She stands next to me, watching closely.

  I grip the axe, lift it up, and aim it. “Use the back of the axe to line it up,” I tell her before raising it up again. I push it forward and release around my nose, stepping toward the target, following through.

  The axe leaps forward and sinks right near the middle of the bullseye.

  “Wow,” she says again. “You make it look so easy.”

  “Practice,” I admit.

  “Really? You come here a lot?”

  “Sometimes.” I walk up and grab it, pulling the axe off the board. I head back and hand it to her, handle first.

&n
bsp; She takes the axe and steps to the blue line. “Okay, okay,” she says. “I got this.”

  The axe is only about a foot long, but it’s got some weight. She hefts it in her hands and takes a breath.

  “Fluid motion,” I say. “You got this.”

  She brings the axe up, aims it like I showed her, brings it above her head, and throws. She follows through this time, stepping forward as the axe flies toward the target.

  It hits and sticks this time, biting deep into the wood. It’s a little low, toward the bottom of the target, but it’s in.

  “Awesome!” I say.

  She laughs and cheers. I walk over and pick her up in a big hug.

  “Look at you, killer!”

  “That felt amazing,” she says as I put her down. “The throw, I mean, not the hug.”

  I grin and grab her axe from the board. “You meant the hug, too.”

  She smiles sheepishly but takes the axe from my hands.

  I watch her throw for a while. I like watching her body, the smooth lines of her, the muscles in her arms. She’s strong and tone but not muscular, which is something I like about her. She clearly takes care of herself.

  “How’d you find this place, anyway?” she asks.

  “Friend of mine invested in it.” I take the axe from her and make my own throw. “Sounded like a fun idea. Turns out, it’s a really good way to blow off some steam.”

  “I bet. My arms are tired already.”

  I laugh and pull the axe from the board. “Want to take a break?”

  “No,” she says quickly. “I wanna throw some more.”

  “Good.” I hand her the axe. “Get at it.”

  “How long have you lived in Philadelphia?” she asks me, lining up and throwing again. The axe bites near the center. She’s picking it up really fast.

  “Most of my life,” I say. “I grew up in Newtown, up in the ‘burbs. I went to school at Temple and started Somesuch while I was still in school.”

  “That’s amazing,” she says, lining up another shot. “I dropped out of college.”

  She throws and it’s a bullseye. “Nice,” I say. “I mean, not the dropping out part.”

  “I know.”

  “We have that in common then. I never finished my degree.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. When Somesuch started to gain a little momentum, it just didn’t seem like it was important anymore, even though we didn’t actually make any money yet.”

  “You took some big risks starting the label, right?” She throws again, and nails it again.

  “Right,” I say. “I mean, I was up to my neck in student loans when I dropped out. Probably not the smartest thing.”

  “Oh, yeah, your parents didn’t help?”

  I grunt a little. “My parents only help themselves, wherever they are.”

  “I can relate to that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “My dad’s a piece of shit.” She throws the axe as she says this, harder than normal. The blade bites deep into the center again with a loud thud.

  “What’d he do?” I ask softly.

  “Ran out on us,” she says as she retrieves the axe. “Like yours did, I guess.”

  “Deadbeat dad club,” I say, grinning.

  She smiles back weakly. “It was right when my mom was sick with cancer. Well, he didn’t totally disappear until my nana needed medical help.”

  “Jesus,” I say softly. “Seriously?”

  “He didn’t take my mom’s sickness well but he was never really around much before that.”

  “What a bastard.”

  “You’re not kidding.” Whip, throw, thud.

  “Any siblings?” he asks.

  “One brother, older. You?”

  “Sister,” I tell her. “Younger.”

  “Are you close?”

  “Not really,” I admit. “She lives down south and married this guy with an Evangelical Christian church.”

  “Really?” she asks. “That’s pretty crazy.”

  “Yeah, I mean, we’re total opposites. She thinks I’m the Antichrist himself.”

  “I can see that. What with all the drinking and the sleeping around.”

  I grin at her. “Hey, I’m not drinking right now, am I?”

  “It’s, like, ten in the morning.”

  “And your point?”

  She rolls her eyes and retrieves the axe. “Good job. I’m so proud.”

  “Anyway, how do you know how much I drink and fuck?”

  She hesitates and shrugs. “People talk.”

  “I bet they do.”

  We lapse into a short silence. She throws again and glances at me as she goes to grab it.

  “Are you close with your brother?” I ask her, breaking the silence.

  “Nope,” she says. “He’s a deadbeat addict, just like dear old dad.”

  “Shit. So you’re all alone.”

  “Yeah, just me and my nana.”

  “Where’s she live?”

  “Attlewood, a place nearby.”

  I’ve heard the name before. “Assisted living facility. Not a bad one, either.”

  “Nope, not bad at all.” She throws again. Whip, thud. This time, she doesn’t go after it. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on her skin as she turns to me. “You’re right. Throwing axes is a great way to relax.”

  I grin at her. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

  I lead her away from the throwing cages. The place is mostly empty right now. There are a couple of guys at the bar watching a baseball game and a couple eating at a table, so we’re free to sit at a corner booth. I ask for a water when the waitress arrives and Alice asks for coffee.

  “Didn’t get any this morning,” she says, giving me a look.

  “Sorry I pulled you from your cave.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my checkbook. “Let’s get this over with.”

  She glances away. “I really can’t take your money.”

  I laugh softly as I write her a check for four thousand dollars. “Just take it. We made a deal.”

  “Seriously, Ben. It’s not right. It’s weird.”

  “Don’t keep fighting this, it’ll just get awkward.” I push the check across the table. She hesitates, but she takes it.

  “Thanks.”

  “Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Our drinks come and she sips hers while looking across the room. I don’t know what she’s seeing but I wish I could understand her, at least a little bit.

  Maybe I do. We both have deadbeat dads, we both suffered. I’m a few years further on in this whole fucking thing, but I suspect she’s going to catch up to me soon.

  I can see it in her, that same drive, that same desire. I don’t know what she wants to do but I can tell she has dreams.

  I want to help her make them come true, which is a thought I’ve never had before.

  She sips her coffee. I let her sit and think, just happy to watch her.

  Finally she turns to me and smiles. “Sorry, I spaced out a little bit.”

  “That’s okay. Where’d you go?”

  “Nowhere.”

  I stand up. “Come on. Let’s throw some more axes.”

  She follows me back to the lane, the coffee still in her hands. I throw a few this time while she watches, and I ask her questions about what it’s been like to work at Somesuch.

  “When you’re not tuning pianos, what do you do?”

  “Bartending, piano lessons, that kind of stuff.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  She shrugs. “Who knows. Whatever will pay my bills.”

  “Going out on dates with me seems like a pretty lucrative gig.”

  She blushes and I laugh. I throw the axe and step back as she puts down her coffee.

  “Look, seriously, Ben—”

  I turn to her, aware of how close we are. The axe is in the wall ten feet away, blade buried deep into the wood.

  “It’s fine,” I say softly. “You really don’t
have to keep trying to apologize or get out of it.”

  “I just feel weird, taking your money.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. This is just… a date.”

  “But I’m not—”

  “An escort, I know.”

  She sighs. “It must be nice, having money to throw around like that.”

  “It is,” I agree. “But it’s not everything.”

  I come closer to her and reach out to tip her chin up toward me. She doesn’t flinch as our eyes meet. I’m struck all over again at how pretty her eyes are, and that night comes flooding back through my body.

  I kiss her without hesitation. I can’t help myself. I know I’ll probably scare her away but I can’t help it. I want her so badly it hurts and if I keep holding back I’ll fucking explode.

  She kisses me back. I taste her mouth, her tongue against mine. I pull her tighter, kissing her deeper, desire flaring up. I swear I’d fuck her right here and now, I don’t care if someone stood and watched. I just need her body, that tight pussy wrapped around my hard cock.

  She steps back suddenly. “Oh, no,” she says, blinking. “Ben, I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  She turns and practically runs away.

  I’m left standing there, staring after her. She turns around the corner and disappears, not looking back.

  “Well, shit,” I say softly to myself.

  I was afraid of that, of scaring her away. I didn’t think she’d actually run, though.

  I pick up her coffee and take a sip. I can still smell her lips on the plastic rim, and the coffee’s still warm.

  Running or not, I still want her. Getting another taste of her, feeling that passion returned through her lips, only makes me need her even more.

  I put the coffee down and resign myself to throwing the axe for a while until this fucking desire slowly fades away.

  8

  Alice

  I’m buzzing with Ben as I hurry away from City Axes. The check he wrote me is heavy in my pocket but I know I have to deposit it right away. Otherwise I might have a change of heart and burn the damn thing.

  I grab a cab and have it take me to the nearest bank. I use the ATM to deposit the check, and when it’s done, I stare at my bank account balance.