by Jade Webb
“And?”
“And nothing. He was a nice guy,” I reply, shrugging.
I see Daphni spin her seat, sending the poor girl who was pulling out her bright-blue hair extensions stumbling backward.
“Nice, Gabby?” she yelps. “Jordan James is not nice. He’s evil and a whore.”
“Actually, Daphni, he was pretty nice,” I push back.
“Trust me, Gabby. He’s a sleaze. He’s slept with like every Victoria’s Secret model. I’m suspicious of why he was even talking to you.”
“Gee, thanks Daphni, for reminding me what an ogre I am,” I sarcastically respond.
Daphni rolls her eyes at me before turning back in her seat. “Gabby, you know you’re hot. You’re just not Victoria’s-Secret-model hot.”
“Again, Daphni, thanks for the confidence boost.”
Melissa places a comforting hand on mine and I sit back, watching the screen where Jordan is continuing to perform while Daphni picks up her phone again and furiously types out a text, likely to Drizzle.
I continue to watch the TV screen while I fiddle with the string of Liam’s hoodie on my lap. I want to find him, to throw his stupid sweatshirt at him and tell him to leave me alone. But an even bigger part of me wants to ask him why the hell he cared enough to cover me with his sweatshirt. Why make such a thoughtful gesture today when just last week he practically threw me off him? Obviously kissing me had been “so fucked up.” God, what did that even mean?
I shake my head, knowing exactly what it meant: it meant that Liam saw me as his employer’s little sister, another burden to take care of, nothing more.
A curt knock on the door thankfully distracts me from my obsessive thoughts. Daphni doesn’t even look up from her phone, while Melissa jumps up from the couch to pull open the door. I can sense him even before I see him and I instantly freeze, a feeling of guilt overcoming me as I realize my hands have wormed their way through his sweatshirt. I avoid looking over at him as I pull my hands out of his shirt and fold them on my lap. Even though I force myself to watch the TV screen, I swear I can feel his eyes on me.
“We’ll be ready to leave in five,” I hear Melissa say.
“Aye,” he responds, and though I want to mock his stupid Scottish accent, it undeniably sends a sliver of heat down my body.
I hear the door close and only then do I exhale the long breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding. Melissa slides down to sit on the arm of the couch, her phone in hand as she taps. Needing to keep my hands busy, I fold up Liam’s sweatshirt into a tight bundle and slide it into my messenger bag alongside my books.
I continue to watch Jordan’s set, impressed by his stamina as he jumps around with a wide smile as thousands of adoring fans scream his name. Meanwhile, Daphni’s team works quickly to peel all the layers of makeup, eyelash glue, and glitter from her face. A short thirty minutes later, she is barefaced, and the adorable sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks is visible again. She always hated them, but I had been so jealous of them growing up. They gave her an innocent appearance that matched well with her other cherubic features. Only when she opened her mouth did you realize she was such a spitfire.
Thankfully it looks like Daphni is in a much better mood and she has a bright smile on her face as she pounces out of her chair. Shoving her phone in her purse, she pulls a baseball cap over her head and slides on a pair of oversized sunglasses. She zips up her oversized sweatshirt and gives herself a quick look in the mirror, checking over her disguise before taking a long sip out of her water bottle. Though I have seen her complete this ritual dozens of times before, for some reason this time it gives me a pang of sadness. For so long, Daphni has been forced to hide and to disguise herself to protect what little shred of privacy she had. What had she lost by doing all this?
Daphni catches me watching her and playfully darts out her tongue. I force my sad thoughts away and stick my tongue out in response. I choose to keep this image of Daphni—a playful smile on her face and a spark of excitement in her dazzling green eyes.
I don’t have much longer to think before Daphni opens the door of the dressing room and steps out. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I follow Melissa and we head out the door.
23
Gabby
“Wake up, sleepy head!”
The pillow hits my head before I have a chance to pry my eyes open. I let out a loud grunt, which results in a peel of laughter from Daphni.
“I am going to kill you!” I groan as I stretch my arms and legs.
“Oh, please. You love me,” my sister replies in a singsong voice.
I lift my head from the pillow to look at the clock on the bedside table. I push up with a start when I see that it’s already nine o’clock.
“Oh my God! I slept in so late!” I squeal as I jump out of bed, tripping on the sheets as I scramble to a standing position.
“Such a slacker, Gabby,” Daphni mockingly admonishes. “How can we expect you to take over the world if you keep sleeping in so late?”
Shooting her a deadly glare, I prop my hands defiantly on my hips. Daphni forces her smile away and waves her hands defensively. “Okay, okay. Truce?” A devious smile curls back on her lips. “Besides you can’t be mad at me today. I’m taking you to your surprise today!”
I let out a frustrated groan. “Daphni, you know how much I hate surprises.”
“Which is exactly why these past four days have been such an utter delight for me!” Daphni squeals as she skips around the room.
“Whatever,” I respond, and grab a towel as I walk to the bathroom.
“Okay, sis. I’m going to go get dressed,” Daphni calls out as I step into the bathroom. “Oh, and make sure to wear something lawyer-ish” she adds.
I poke my head out of the bathroom and shoot her a questioning look. “Lawyer-ish?”
“Yeah, you know. Like lawyer clothes,” she explains, as if I am the dense one for not understanding what she means.
Rolling my eyes, I step into the hot shower and let it help to wake me up. Ever since Daphni ditched me on my birthday, she has been working overtime to make it up to me, and it’s reminded me how much I really had missed my sister. Every night is a sleepover, spent giggling and raiding the hotel’s mini-fridge until the early morning. Though it has meant less time studying, it feels good to bond and get to know my big sister again.
After a few more moments basking under the six-nozzle showerhead, I step out and wrap myself in a plush, oversized towel. Padding back to my room, I hoist my suitcase up onto the bed and dig through as I try to interpret my sister’s understanding of “lawyer” clothes.
I settle on a fitted, dark-grey sheath dress with a white collar overlay I had packed to sit for my LSAT exams. Several studies had shown that dressing professionally for your exams actually increased your focus and therefore helped you score better. It was published in Scientific American so obviously, I took it as gospel.
I slip on a pair of simple black pumps and a single silver bangle to complete my outfit. I try to run my thick hair under the hotel blow dryer but get frustrated after ten minutes and opt to just twist it into a low chignon at the nape of my neck.
I hear a knock at my door just as I am spritzing perfume onto my wrist. I open the door to see a wide-grinned Daphni with a solemn-faced Liam behind her. I do my best to avoid eye contact with him, something I have mastered over the past few days. I was hopeful my tactics were subtle, but Daphni had immediately called me out and asked why I was always so evasive around Liam. Under her interrogation, I completely caved and told her everything. Even though she had begged me to let her talk with Liam, she understood that I didn’t want to dwell on it anymore, and she even helped me avoid him by giving me the heads-up on his schedule.
“Ready?” she asks me, her eyes glittering with excitement.
“Yeah, let me just grab my bag,” I answer, and I dash back into my room. I reach my bag and dump out the contents. Flying out comes Liam’s sweatshirt, rolled up
in a tight ball. I instantly shoot a guilty look over my shoulder, hoping that Liam or Daphni didn’t notice the pilfered sweatshirt still in my bag. I had meant to return it but then decided to just hold on to it for a day. As much as I hated myself for it, I loved that the inside of my bag was now beginning to smell like Liam. He was still a certifiable asshole, but his scent was intoxicating and so annoyingly addicting. Thankfully the door is closed just enough to keep anyone from seeing me as I shove his sweatshirt back into the bag and transfer my wallet to a smaller purse.
As I step into the hallway, Daphni links her arm in mine. Her excitement is contagious and I find myself smiling along.
“So, can you tell me now where you’re taking me?” I ask.
Daphni jokingly swats my arm. “No, Gabby! Just trust me, okay?”
Daphni presses the elevator button and as the doors open, we pile inside. As the doors close, I hear a gasp and turn to see the young woman gaping at Daphni.
“Oh my God, you are Daphni freakin’ Monroe!” she exclaims.
Daphni offers them a radiant smile, but I catch the way her body tenses and her knuckles turn white as she grips her purse. She offers them a quick selfie and Liam and I shuttle away to stay out of the shot. We bump into each other, and when my bare arm grazes his, a spark of electric flames scorches me. Though I try to fight it, I look up at him and see his steel-grey eyes watching me. At first, they look angry, and I swear I can see flames flickering in those charcoal grey depths, but they quickly soften. He opens his mouth to say something, but he misses the opportunity when the elevator doors open and I jump out, eager to escape.
I keep a clipped pace and stay a few steps ahead as weave through the underground hallways of the hotel until we get to the back entrance. Our driver is waiting for us, and Liam slides into the passenger seat, while Daphni and I take the seats in the back.
As our driver whips through the grid-like streets of Toronto, Daphni uses the opportunity to show me some of the videos her fans send her through various social media. She laughs and giggles at the videos, clearly proud of her fans’ creativity. At the end of each video, she types out a response to the creator and sends a selfie along with it.
Shortly after, we arrive at the private airstrip and are carted off to our waiting plane. We jump inside and Daphni throws herself down onto the plush, white leather couch. I follow suit and kick off my black pumps, curling my legs underneath.
Liam’s large frame is the last to enter. He has to duck his head as he walks inside the body of the plane, and suddenly the spacious, nearly empty forty-foot plane feels so much smaller.
He takes a seat away from us and as soon as we are up in the air, Daphni jumps from her chair and pulls a large box wrapped in gold paper from a nearby closet. She places it in front of me.
“Open it,” she orders with a large smile on her face.
Arching my brow, I return her smile as I hesitate a moment before tearing open the beautiful foiled wrapping paper. I chuckle as I reveal my gift.
“Disorderly Conduct?” I ask, bemused.
“Yes! I know I’m taking you away from your precious studying and I was so torn up about it, that I figured we could study as we travel to your little surprise,” Daphni responds excitedly.
I smile at Daphni, who has already taken the game from me and started setting it up on the coffee table in front of us. I drop down to the side of the table and help her finish setting up the cards. Picking up one of the question cards, Daphni turns it over to read it, her eyes large and animated.
“Are these written in English?”
Chuckling, I roll my eyes as I take the card from her. “Yes, this is just certiorari. It’s basically a writ that the Supreme Court can issue to review a lower court’s judgment.”
I laugh as Daphni’s face contorts in confusion. “Okay, so if you want the Supreme Court to review your case, you need to issue a writ of certiorari. You can’t just show up and say, ‘Hey, I’m unhappy with my court ruling, I want you guys to review it.’ There’s a process and a procedure. It’s all really quite elegant,” I explain.
“Elegant. Right,” Daphni sarcastically adds as she rolls her eyes. She picks up the instructions. “Gabby, there is no way I am going to win this,” she whines as she reads through the packet explaining the rules.
I fight back a smile in response. “And how is that different from any other game we’ve played together, Daph?”
She glares at me before dropping the instructions. A smirk creeps up on her face and she pushes off the ground. “Liam, we need you!” she calls out.
I swear under my breath and Daphni sticks out her tongue in return. I want to literally strangle her and am strongly considering it. We’re still in Canadian air after all, and they don’t have the death penalty.
Liam makes his way over and leans down against the leather seat behind Daphni.
“What’s up, Daphni?” he asks.
“You’re on my team, Liam. I find it incredibly unfair that my act of kindness and generosity has resulted in me being set up to fail,” Daphni complains.
Liam quirks his brow in amusement before settling down to sit next to Daphni on the ground. His large frame hunched beside the coffee table is almost comical. At first, he tries to sit cross-legged, but there is obviously not enough room, so instead he shifts and kicks his legs out in front of him, crossing his feet at the ankles.
We roll the dice to start the game and Liam and Daphni are tasked with answering the first question. I flip the hourglass, giving them sixty seconds to come up with an answer. I do my best to tune out the sound of their voices as I press my back against the hard leather chair and command my body to remain unaffected and to ignore Liam. I blame his pheromones and his addicting cologne for the way my body seems to react to his every breath, every movement, every word. It’s as if my entire body—from the smallest of my cells to every inch of my skin—has been programmed to respond to him in every single way.
“Torte!”
I look up and see a triumphant smile on Daphni’s face.
“What?”
“Torte. The answer is torte.”
I grab the card and flip it over, without even reading the question. In black, bold letters, the word “torte” is written.
I draw my glance back up to my sister. “Daphni, how did you guess this?”
“Why are you so surprised, Gabby? You worried about getting your butt kicked by your superstar sister?”
I roll my eyes as I add her points to the score sheet. “Well, I’m sorry for underestimating you, then,” I mumble in response.
Daphni laughs and elbows Liam at her side. “No, you were totally right. I’m a complete idiot. Liam was the one who knew the answer.”
I shoot over an incredulous look at the duo. “Liam?”
Liam crosses his arms triumphantly over his chest as an arrogant, victorious smile lights up his face. I offer him a polite, congratulatory smile, but he can read the annoyance on my face, which only seems to make him smile more.
I push back my annoyance and paste on a large smile.
“Well done. Seven points to you. Next question is for me.”
24
Liam
As the plane descends, I can’t help but feel the slightest bit victorious. It had been over a week of her acting like I didn’t even exist, of feeling like a complete and utter asshole. A week of creeping around, trying to find a moment alone to apologize only to find that she had just left. It was as if she was always five steps ahead of me.
But today, not only did I get a mildly appreciative nod, but I also got a “well done.” Small steps.
It’s late morning as we file out of the plane into the waiting car. Daphni finally clued me in to the day’s events after I had insisted I needed to know for her own damn security. She has developed a recent, rather obnoxious habit of going off-script and leaving me and the team scrambling to catch up with her. Thankfully, however, she seems determined to make this day a good one for her si
ster, which should make my day somewhat manageable. It’s been near fucking impossible, however, having Gabby five feet away from me. Everything about her is a distraction. Her long, dark hair with its faint coconut smell, the way she purses her lips when I inevitably do something that annoys her. Even when she’s scowling at me, I have to hold back a smile because it’s so fucking adorable.
We get stuck in some traffic but eventually make our way into downtown Columbus. Gabby has the window rolled all the way down, determined to catch on to what her sister’s surprise is. Surprisingly, Daphni is remaining tight-lipped and not revealing anything.
The car eventually pulls into an empty parking space and Daphni jumps out, throwing on a pair of dark sunglasses. Gabby cautiously follows her, taking in the sights around her.
Daphni grabs for Gabby’s hand and practically drags her into the park a few feet away. I follow closely behind and hold back a laugh at the sight of a bright-blue-haired Daphni in a leather mini skirt and pink crop top pulling her prim and proper little sister through the park.
Daphni abruptly stops as they reach the main feature of the park: a hilariously large steel gavel encircled by a reflecting pool.
Dropping her sister’s hand, Daphni waves her hand in front of the large statue.
“Ta da!” she announces proudly.
Gabby bites her lip, holding in her laughter. Seeing her sister's reaction, Daphni’s smile drops.
“Gabby, this is the world’s largest gavel,” she explains, her face stern and serious.
Gabby swallows back her laughter and nods thoughtfully. “It’s beautiful.”
I hold back my own laughter as I watch Daphni’s mouth drop open.
“Gabby, this is not ‘beautiful’,” Daphni chastises. “This is the largest gavel in the world. The gavel, Gabby! The symbol of justice and fairness and our criminal justice system that was created to ensure all men are innocent until proven guilty!”