Rumor Has It: A Bad Boy Romantic Comedy

by Lila Moore

“Which one is Armando?” I asked, changing the subject. She perked up now that the conversation had turned back around to her favorite topic: herself.

  “Olive skin, dark eyes with gray hair. He always dresses in perfectly tailored suits.”

  I had no idea who she was talking about.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s hot,” I replied.

  “Armando’s a hat trick.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means he has the three best achievements any man can have. He’s rich, handsome and… he’s rich.”

  I laughed, thinking she was making a joke. She smiled, but didn’t join in my laughter. She was probably serious. Poor Luke. If she somehow managed to use her pregnancy as leverage to blackmail him into marrying her, his life would be ruined. I watched as she reapplied her lipstick in the mirror then smacked her lips together.

  “Don’t wait up,” she said.

  I hugged my knees to my chest as she shimmied past me. I could hear the pregnancy tests crunch together inside my shirt. If my mother heard, she gave no indication. Their mere presence gave me anxiety. I wanted to get rid of them immediately.

  “Don’t lose that,” she said, pointing to the ring.

  I slipped it onto my finger.

  “I won’t.”

  Luke. I had to tell them the truth. It was the only way to stop him from making the worst mistake of his life.

  Luke

  I finished off my sixth beer and ordered another. I looked down at my cell phone and considered checking my notifications again.

  “I swear to God, Luke-you touch that phone one more time and I’m going to throw it out the window.”

  Trent drank down the last of his beer, then snatched my cell phone off the bar and stuck it in his pocket.

  “Hey! I need that. I’m still waiting to hear back from our office in Hong Kong. They’re going to need an immediate decision and if they can’t get ahold of me they won’t know what to do.”

  It was a lie; Hong Kong would survive without me. I didn’t want Trent to know the truth: I was desperate to hear back from Genevieve. Something was wrong. I was sure she’d respond immediately to my calls and texts, but nothing. It was like she’d disappeared from the face of the Earth.

  “You’re just worried about that girl. You got a taste of that young, fresh pussy and now you want more.”

  “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  “Relax. I’m just messing with you.”

  Trent rested his hand on my shoulder; I shrugged it off. I was getting sick of his idiotic Frat Boy attitude.

  “Why are you so sensitive lately? Those two broads really did a number on your head.”

  I wanted him to shut up. I considered leaving the bar, but something kept me firmly in place. Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through my head.

  “What the fuck would you know about it? When’s the last time you had feelings for a girl? Or for anyone, for that matter?”

  “Dude, chill. I’m sorry your girl is ghosting you. Though, you have to admit, it is kind of funny. I mean, here I was telling you to ghost her and she was the one who decided to fuck and run. Who would’ve thought?”

  “I fail to see the humor in it.”

  “Of course you don’t see the humor in it. You made the bonehead move of falling for the girl.”

  “I haven’t fallen for her,” I said lamely.

  My fingers itched to check my phone again. What if Genevieve had responded while Trent and I were sitting here arguing?

  I ran a hand through my hair and yawned. One more sleepless night and I was going to lose my mind. The girl had gotten under my skin. I would never give Trent the satisfaction of knowing he was right, but there it was. I had fallen for Genevieve.

  “It must sting,” he said. “Especially losing that ring. How much did it cost?”

  I shrugged. Thinking about the money Val had stolen to buy the ring made me sick.

  “Twenty grand?” he asked.

  I didn’t respond.

  “More?” he said, nearly spitting out his drink.

  According to my credit card statement, it had cost thirty six thousand dollars with tax.

  “You gotta get the ring back,” Trent said. “Or call the police. I mean, I know you’re loaded. Losing that money is just a drop in the bucket for you, but it’s the principle of thing. Val needs to be taught a lesson. She can’t just steal from you without repercussions. Think of the next poor bastard she tries to rob. You need to put a stop to this now for the sake of men everywhere.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Maybe that was why I kept Trent around. No matter how bad things became, he always had a way of making me smile.

  “I don’t want her to go to jail.”

  “You can always threaten her with the police. Maybe it will scare her straight. Of course, that would mean talking to her and well that may not be such a good idea. Every time you talk to her things end up taking a turn for the worse.”

  “Exactly. Maybe I should just cut my losses and move on.”

  “Maybe.”

  Trent’s eyes narrowed, like he was thinking about something intensely.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Let me go talk to Val. I’ll arrange a meeting somewhere and-”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “You need a middleman. Val won’t manipulate me; I can handle her.”

  “You seriously underestimate Val.”

  “Leave it to me. I’ll get the ring back.”

  “No. I’m not joking Trent. Stay out of this.”

  He sighed and picked up his beer. I grabbed his arm and squeezed.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Say it. Say: I will not get involved.”

  I squeezed his arm harder.

  “Ow! I will not get involved.”

  I’d avoided mentioning the ring in my texts to Genevieve. The ring situation wasn’t her fault. I didn’t want her to feel responsible or angry. But maybe if I mentioned it, she would respond to me.

  “I gotta go,” Trent said, rubbing his arm.

  “Wait-my phone.”

  He rolled his eyes and set it down on the bar.

  “Do yourself a favor and forget about this girl. She’s nothing but trouble.”

  I watched Trent leave and wondered if he was right. It was too late though. I found myself texting Genevieve again.

  ‘I need to see you. Bring the ring or I’ll be forced to contact the police.’

  I hit Send and instantly felt dirty. It was wrong to manipulate her this way, but she was driving me mad. I would never call the cops on Genevieve, but if it got her to respond then… who was I kidding? It was wrong.

  I picked up the phone to send a second text apologizing and asking her to forgive me. Before I could type a message Genevieve responded.

  ‘Don’t call the police. We need to talk. Let’s meet tonight. Somewhere quiet. I’ll bring the ring. Gx’

  Genevieve

  I stared at myself in the mirror. I was completely naked. I turned to the side and pushed my stomach out. Is this what I would like a couple months from now?

  Only if I decided to keep the baby.

  I sighed and stepped away from the mirror. It was making me paranoid. I was sure my body hadn’t changed at all, but the longer I stared, the more convinced I became that my stomach was growing.

  Fueling my paranoia, I picked out a top that was loose and flow-y. It would hide any weight gain and ease my nerves a bit. I pulled on a pair of skinny jeans; they buttoned easily. Maybe my waist wasn’t growing? I wasn’t even sure I was pregnant. Though I strongly suspected I was. Four out of five of the pregnancy tests I’d taken gave a positive result. Still, there was a one in five chance I wasn’t. Desperately, I clung to that hope.

  I put on a pair of sneakers and headed out. I was less concerned about looking sexy for Luke; I was too obsessed with looking normal. A paranoid part of me thought he would take one look at me and instantly know
I was pregnant.

  I walked a block down the street to my favorite coffee place. I was twenty minutes early, but Luke was already inside. I stood outside the café and watched him through the window. He had a short, scruffy beard that was a shade lighter than his hair. His brow was furrowed and there were dark circles under his eyes. He was strikingly handsome, even though he looked like he could use some sleep.

  Suddenly, he turned. Foolishly, I tried to hide. I slipped off to the side, pressing myself flat against the wall of the café. It was incredibly stupid. He’d already seen me. My face burned hot. I considered fleeing. I could run back home or dart into the subway.

  “Genevieve!”

  I jumped and turned to find Luke standing a few feet away. He smiled brightly. If he thought I was acting bizarrely, he gave no indication. He crossed the short distance between us quickly and wrapped his arms around me.

  I stiffened. I wasn’t expecting a warm embrace. But once I was in his arms, something inside me weakened. My defenses broke. I buried my face in his chest and took a deep breath. He smelled warm and faintly of trees as if he’d been working outside. Tears welled-up in my eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I cleared my throat and rubbed my face. I didn’t want him to see me cry.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I was worried when you didn’t respond to any of my calls or texts.”

  “I’ve been busy,” I lied.

  He nodded slowly as if he didn’t quite understand. Before he could ask any more questions, I held up my hand showing him the ring.

  “I brought the ring. I think it will come off my finger this time,” I said with a forced laugh.

  I pulled hard; it slid off easily. Under the stress of these last three weeks, I’d lost weight. All the more reason why it was silly to obsess over my imaginary baby bump; I was the thinnest I’ve ever been.

  Luke turned the ring over so that the diamond caught the glow of the streetlight. It shimmered beautifully.

  “Your mother has good taste,” he said.

  “Yeah, she really knows how to pick ‘em.”

  He looked up at me with a cool expression. A moment of awkward silence passed between us as Luke tried to figure out if I was trying to insult him.

  I cleared my throat.

  “You won’t go to the police, will you?”

  Luke sighed. “No. I shouldn’t have threatened you like that. I just wanted to see you and you weren’t responding to any of my texts. Is something wrong?”

  “No, of course not.” My voice sounded high-pitched even to my ears. I coughed and added: “I mean, other than the fact that my mother is clinically insane?”

  “Other than that,” he replied with a weak smile.

  “No. Everything’s swell.”

  Another awkward silence descended upon us.

  “Look, there’s something I have to tell you,” I said.

  “Do you want to go inside?”

  I looked into the café. A couple sat near the window, leaning in close to each other, whispering. They smiled deviously as if they shared a secret. I looked back to Luke. His eyes were severe; his jaw tight. He looked like a man bracing himself for bad news.

  A wave of jealousy washed over me. I wished Luke stared at me the way the man in the café stared at his female companion. I straightened up and tried to push those thoughts out of my head. I had to focus. What was important now was saving Luke from making a huge mistake. He didn’t know it yet, but he was walking into a trap. As soon as my mother broke the news of her pregnancy, I was sure she’d use it as a tool to manipulate Luke into marrying her.

  “There’s something I need to tell you first,” he said. “What happened between us…”

  “…was a mistake. I know. You don’t have to say it. I get it; you got caught up in the moment and now you regret it.”

  “No. I don’t regret anything. Well, maybe a few things. But I don’t regret what happened between us. We hardly know each other, but I feel… a spark.”

  “A spark?”

  “A connection. Chemistry. You don’t feel it?”

  I’d felt drawn to him since our first meeting when he offered to give me a ride home from the restaurant. It didn’t matter now, though. As soon as he found out my mother was pregnant, he would cut off all contact with me. It was understandable. You can’t date the daughter of the woman who’s expecting your child.

  Then there was the floating question mark hanging over my future. Was I pregnant? A voice inside me said, yes. Luke could never know. It would only bring more chaos to the situation.

  Discovery of my mother’s pregnancy was inevitable. Once the cat was out of the bag, I’d probably never see him again. Maybe a goodbye was in order? One last fling?

  “I do-feel it, I mean. That night, after dinner with my mother, I leaned in a tried to kiss you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was just drawn to you.”

  “Why didn’t you respond to any of my calls or texts?” he asked.

  I shook my head and looked away. I couldn’t answer his question honestly, not yet.

  “That’s fine. It doesn’t matter now,” he said.

  “Let’s get out of here. Take me back to your place.”

  Luke

  There was something off about Genevieve. I wanted to talk, but she kept insisting we go back to my place. I didn’t argue. It would be nice to spend some alone time with her.

  As we drove to my place, she stared out the window sadly. I tried to talk to her, but I was met with short, dismissive responses. Finally, I gave up and we rode in silence. She perked up once she caught a glimpse of the building where I live. The Towers were a shiny skyscraper that stretched into the sky. My place was on the top floor.

  Genevieve craned her head back and looked up. Most girls have the same reaction when I bring them back to my place for the first time. It always makes me cringe. They always get this look on their faces like they just won a jackpot. I usually try to hide the fact that I’m wealthy for as long as I can. Money changes everything. I’m more than happy to treat a girl to dinner and a nice night out, but I’ve had girls straight up ask me to pay off their student loans and mortgages after knowing them for less than a month.

  Genevieve looked back at me. I expected to see a gleam in her eye. Some women become predatorily when they get their hands on a man with money. Genevieve looked the same as she always did though. There was something about her that was different. I don’t think she cared about my money. It was refreshing, but I’d made the mistake before of assuming a girl didn’t care about money only to have her shake me down for cash later. As I led Genevieve inside, I hoped she didn’t disappoint me.

  Genevieve

  The elevator ride felt like it took ages. Luke’s penthouse was at the very top of the building. My ears popped as the elevator climbed. When the doors finally opened, I was taken aback by what I saw. The penthouse covered not one, but two floors. There were huge floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Expensive-looking artwork covered the walls. I recognized a few pieces. A Warhol and a Keith Haring hung above the bar on the far right side of the penthouse.

  The space was huge and open. It felt like we were floating above the clouds. It was all a bit shocking. I knew Luke was rich; I had no idea he was this wealthy.

  I cleared my throat awkwardly; I had no idea what to say.

  “Sorry for the mess,” Luke said.

  A couple of boxes were stacked against the far wall and a coat hung from the back of a chair. Other than that, the penthouse was immaculate.

  “You should be sorry. What a dump,” I said.

  Luke turned to me with a tense expression. For a brief moment, he thought I was being serious. Once he saw that I was joking, he started to laugh.

  “Does it meet your approval?” he asked with a sly grin.

  I shrugged. “It’ll do.”

  “Do you want a drink?”

  “No, I don’t drink.”

  Though a par
t of me thought maybe this was a good time to start.

  “Water? Juice?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  Luke walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. He swallowed it all in one gulp. Was he nervous? Surely not. Why would I make him nervous?

  I took off my jacket and set it down on the couch. I walked to the window and looked down. People scurried across the sidewalk as small as ants. A wave of nausea hit me. I took a deep breath. I did not want to puke now. This was supposed to be our goodbye. I didn’t want Luke’s last memory of me to be cleaning up a puddle of vomit off his floor.

  “Maybe I will have a drink,” I said.

  “What would you like?”

  “Whatever you’re having?”

  I noticed too late that he was drinking straight alcohol. Gratefully, he didn’t pour me the same. He mixed it with soda and lime, then handed it to me. I took a sip. The soda did little to hide the strength of the alcohol. I coughed.

  “Too strong?”

  “No, it’s perfect,” I lied.

  I took a drink and felt the nausea swirling in my stomach fade away.

  “Where’s your bedroom?” I blurted out.

  He choked on his drink.

  “It’s, uh, in the back.”

  He pointed over my shoulder to a dark hallway.

  “Show me.”

  I grabbed his hand and dragged him in the direction he’d pointed. I opened the first door I came to and was disappointed to find a gym.

  “Upstairs,” he said.

  A set of stairs at the end of the hall led up to a second floor. It was hard to imagine climbing higher than we already were. Luke’s apartment felt like it sat on top of the world.

  The stairs led straight to Luke’s bedroom. It was a large, mostly empty room with artwork decorating the walls. In the middle of the room was a large bed with black velvet sheets. The sheets were thrown back messily like he’d just climbed out of bed.

  “Sorry for the mess,” he said again.

  I turned around, grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me. I kissed him hard. I don’t know if I was emboldened by the alcohol or the sense of finality that coursed through this last meeting. This had to be our last meeting. There was no other way for us to continue on together.

  “Gen…” Luke protested. “Slow down.”