by Seven Steps
Nothing about him said creative. I doubted he’d ever scribbled anything in his life.
While Cole and Sophia bickered, and Bella tried to mediate, Ariel, Eric, and Purity turned back to me.
“Look,” Eric said. “I know we haven’t known each other all that long. But, trust me, guys like it when you’re honest with them. Don’t try to be something the guy wants you to be. Be yourself. A lot of times, you’ll find you share common interests, and even if you don’t, a girl who does her own thing is hot. It means she’s not all clingy and needy. Guys hate that.”
“Just be yourself,” Purity said. “Everything else will fall into place.”
I nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Of course we’re right,” Ariel said. “And if this guy makes you feel anything less than amazing after you tell him, let me know, and I’ll make sure he won’t have any kids to pass his pretentious genes onto.”
“Babe,” Eric said, placing a hand on her lower back. “Deep breaths. We talked about this. Violence isn’t always the answer.”
“When it comes to my friends it is,” Ariel replied, turning back to me. “Like Purity said. Be yourself. He’ll have no choice but to like you.”
The bell rang, quicker than I expected, and I picked up my tray and started for the trash bins, thinking deeply about my friends’ words.
They were right. Andrew wanted to know what career I wanted. It was time to tell him exactly what I wanted to do. Besides, it wasn’t like there weren’t famous painters.
Devinta Holly was the perfect example. She came from nothing and now she was not only supporting herself but helping others. That was what I wanted to do. I wanted to have a job that wasn’t… meaningless. I wanted to make people happy. I wanted to touch people’s lives creatively. A job in a big pharmaceutical company or being a doctor wouldn’t give me those options.
But painting would.
Could Andrew understand that?
Could my parents?
“Don’t stress about Andrew,” Ariel said. “And don’t let him force you into some perfect mold because it’s what’s happening to him. Break the mold and make something new.”
“Don’t you know that new and scary are synonymous in my world?” I asked.
She smiled.
“Sometimes, a little scary is worth it.”
14
It was two-thirty when the bell rang, and I started to paint over the hallway graffiti.
A few of the janitors helped, so I would only waste a day doing cleanup before I had to do the actual painting.
That was good, at least.
Ollie didn’t show up, and I didn’t expect him to. It was a blessing in disguise.
At three-thirty, I took a break, pulled out my sketchbook, and lost myself in completing my mural outline.
Ollie could say what he wanted about flowers and portraits. The fact was that he’d ruined my wall and I had a deadline. Therefore, his idea about what I should paint was invalidated. It was time to put my pencil to the paper and start figuring this out.
With each stroke of my pencil, my mind quieted. Thoughts of futures and of lies and blue-eyed boys floated away. There was only me and my art. It was all I needed. I allowed the pictures to flow from my hands. Beautiful flowers each as unique as a fingerprint. Sharp blades of grass that sprouted up between rocks and trees. Tall, stately pines that reached up as far as I could go without a ladder. Tiny insects and birds in flight rounded out the picture, making it come alive. By the time the sun began to set, I’d already mapped out all my walls and, if I had to say so myself, it was magnificent.
I helped the janitor finish cleaning up and started home.
Tomorrow, I would start my mural. I was one day closer to meeting my idol. And I had a fabulous date with a hot guy tonight.
Things were starting to look up.
My mood was soaring, and no one could take that away from me.
Not even Ollie.
15
Andrew led me through the dozens of people gathered in the main ball room of a catering hall uptown.
It looked more like a wedding reception than a networking dinner. The tablecloths were crisp and white. Matching white cloth covered the seats. The cavernous ceiling and high windows made the place feel enormous. Long tables were crowded with every type of food imaginable. Lobster, shrimp, steaks, truffles, and everything else possible. I took some rice and layered a dish labeled vegetarian ratatouille over it while Andrew took a lobster tail from a large, white, square dish.
“The food at these things is always top-notch,” he said. “It’s catered by Indigo, this amazing steakhouse a couple of blocks over. We should go there sometimes. They have this incredible banana chia seed pudding that will make you think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Just the word steakhouse had my stomach turning. Had I told Andrew I was a vegetarian?
“I’m not sure I’d enjoy myself in a steakhouse.”
He picked up a few pieces of shrimp on a skewer. “Why?”
“I’m a vegetarian.”
There. That was one truth about me. Let’s see how Andrew took it.
“I know. They have a vegetarian menu too. I checked it out. It looks pretty tasty.”
Relief flooded me. Crisis averted.
“Oh. That’s great. How’d you know I was a vegetarian?”
“When I like a girl, I do my homework on her. Not like in a stalkerish sort of way. Just asking around.”
Like a girl? Was the girl he was talking about me?
Le swoon.
Le pant.
Le sigh.
I tried to keep my composure.
“And who did you ask?”
“Eric, for starters. After that, the rest of your friends were more than happy to answer all of my questions.”
I didn’t know whether to be thankful or cringe.
“I’m sorry. They’re a little too much sometimes.”
“They’re fine. They care about you. A lot. And they’re funny. Especially Sophia.”
Warmth filled my chest. My friends did have my back, no matter what. I was lucky to have them.
We sat at a nearby table and ate while Andrew pointed out all the major influencers in attendance. Included were a gold exporter, a Russian oil tycoon, and a woman who sold copper out of Arizona.
These people weren’t just rich or influencers. These were the one-percent. With a network like this, a person’s wildest dreams could come true.
Granted, my family had a lot of money, but I was never really around it. Yes, I met celebrities and some big wigs in the business world, but never in a setting like this. I’d only seen most of these people on television or the Internet.
“There’s a lot of money in this room, and it all flows through my dad’s bank.” Andrew’s voice was full of pride. I could tell he and his father had a warm relationship. Probably like the kind you see on television. They probably ate dinner together and went to baseball games and said I love you when they ended phone calls. The last thing I said to my father was to stop arguing with Mom and go to sleep. He’d threatened me with grounding and that was that.
All families were different, I guess. I just wished mine wasn’t so broken.
We ate in silence. Then, Andrew wiped his face with his napkin, pushed his plate out of the way, and leaned on his forearms.
“So, have you decided yet?”
“Decided about what?”
“About your future,” he said, chuckling. “What does the great Jasmine Patel want to be when she grows up?”
My gut clenched, and I squeezed my lips together.
“Well…”
“Come on, Jasmine. You have to tell me. I’m itching with suspense.”
I was hoping to avoid this conversation, but his eyes were so warm and eager. They made me want to open up to him. So, I took a deep breath and decided to give Andrew Johnson another piece of me.
“I’m going to be a painter.”
His lips
trembled, then he burst out laughing.
My heart sank. The food in my stomach turned putrid, and I swallowed back a gag. The temperature in the room spiked a good ten degrees and it was suddenly very hard to breathe.
I forced a tight smile onto my face while Andrew laughed his butt off. He even slapped his leg and held his side.
“Jasmine, you are a funny girl. A very, very funny girl. My father is going to simply adore you.”
I forced myself to laugh, even though I felt awkward and embarrassed about it now.
“Imagine the daughter of the CEO of one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world becoming a painter. Your parents would probably ship you off to a lunatic asylum in Russia.”
My face hurt from forcing this smile. Something else deep within my chest hurt too. A sharp, consistent ache. Like the kind you get when you stub your toe. Can you stub your heart on words?
“But, please.” He suddenly turned serious. “Don’t tell my father about our little joke when you meet him. If he thought you were going to be some beatnik painter he’d probably ban me from speaking to you.”
And this night just got worse. “Seriously?”
“Yes. We Johnsons are very serious when it comes to life goals. Wasted talent is wasted money, we always say.”
I felt like sinking into my chair and never reappearing again. I managed to choke out, “Yes. That’s true,” before taking a long sip of water to cool my hot throat.
“Come on now. Don’t be nervous.” He took one of my hands in both of his. “Just tell him the truth and be who you are. A perfect princess on a perfect path to a perfect life.”
Was that what he thought? That my life was perfect? That I was a princess? If he knew the truth about my “perfect life” he’d run away screaming.
“Now,” he said. “Tell me what you really decided on.”
“Andrew!”
A tall man clapped Andrew on the back. They had the same blond hair, bright blue eyes, and well-dressed appearance.
“Dad,” Andrew said. He gestured to me. “This is Jasmine Patel.”
Mr. Johnson examined every piece of me that was visible, then reached out to shake my hand.
“Aaron Johnson.” His grip nearly crushed my fingers. I tried not to wince. “Nice to meet you, Jasmine.”
“You as well, sir.”
“My son tells me that your father is Sultan Patel. From Vantrex Pharmaceuticals?”
“Yes, sir.”
“They just opened a plant in Africa, I hear.”
Funny. I hadn’t heard that. But I couldn’t let on that I was completely detached from my father’s life. So, I did what I did best here. I smiled and nodded. “Yes, they did.”
“I expect that the daughter of such a driven man would have inherited some of that drive?”
Smile. Nod. “I hope so.”
“And where is that drive going to take you in life?”
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t tell Andrew’s dad I wanted to be a painter now. Especially since Andrew had just laughed at the idea. I didn’t want to lie about my future aspirations, but with Andrew and his father’s eyes pressuring me to give them a good answer, I felt like, in that moment, I had to be who they wanted me to be or else I’d be completely humiliated. And this time it wouldn’t just be Andrew laughing at me. It would be his father too.
Right now wasn’t the time to stand up and announce my entire life to a room where the median income was a billion dollars. Now was the time to make them believe I was on a perfect path to a perfect life.
Even if it was just a lie.
“I’m going to be a doctor,” I said.
My statement seemed to set Aaron and Andrew at ease. I saw them both release a long breath.
“Very good,” Aaron said. “I’m pleased that you’ve decided to join us tonight. Please, avail yourself of the knowledge in this room. There are people here who can really open up doors for you. And, please, have your father give me a call. We can talk business.”
He pulled a shiny business card from his pocket and handed it to me.
I took it and tucked it into my purse.
“You kids have a productive time. Jasmine, or should I say Dr. Patel, it was my pleasure.”
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson.”
Andrew’s father gave a brief wave before making his way into a knot of men nearby.
“Well, that went better than expected,” Andrew said with a clearly relieved smile. He wanted his father’s approval and now that he had it, it seemed like a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders.
And settled squarely on mine.
The room felt like all the air had been sucked out of it. I walked back to the table and sat down, taking in another long draw of cool water.
“Look, I know my dad seems high pressure sometimes, but it’s just because he cares, so please don’t let that freak you out.”
“No. Of course not.”
I was definitely freaked out. I had lied to Andrew and his father.
I didn’t want to be a doctor.
I wanted to paint.
But I couldn’t tell Andrew that. He’d laugh at me again and his father would forbid him from speaking to me.
And I wanted Andrew to speak to me.
I wanted to be the girl he believed I was.
The perfect princess with the perfect life.
“Well, you heard the man. I’ll introduce you to a few people and we’ll start on our productive night.”
Andrew stood and held out his hand to me.
“Shall we?”
I closed my eyes and released a breath. Things weren’t as bad as I was making them out to be. Sure, I told Andrew and his dad I wanted to be a doctor, but what did that matter? I wouldn’t have to fess up to anything until I graduated, and that was still a year away.
I allowed my apprehension to fall away, then I opened my eyes and focused on Andrew. He was so handsome, and the room was so beautiful. It all felt a little bit like a dream.
I placed my hand in his and stood up.
I could do this. I could be Jasmine Patel, future doctor for one night.
Besides, no harm ever came with telling one little lie, right?
I received a call from Bella as soon as I made it home.
That girl had impeccable timing.
“Tell me everything,” she said.
I dropped into bed, still fully dressed. Raja jumped on the bed next to me, and I stroked his orange fur.
I still felt dazed from my date. And, a little bit guilty too. Andrew had been such a gentleman, and so kind to me. Yet, over and over again, I had to lie about every part of my life. How my parents were. Who I wanted to be. What I did in my free time.
I had spent the night pretending to be this girl I didn’t even recognize. And it was exhausting.
“There’s not a lot to tell,” I said. “It was at this beautiful place uptown. It was like a dream.”
“A good dream or a bad dream?”
I sighed. “A little bit of both.”
“Start with the bad first.”
“Well.” I made a face as if she could see me. “I lied.”
“Lied about what?”
Everything.
“I told him I wanted to be a doctor.”
She clicked her tongue. “That’s a far cry from your painting declaration at lunch.”
“I know. I felt bad doing it, but they were putting so much pressure on me to give them an answer.”
“Them? Who’s them?”
“Andrew and his dad. And everyone else.”
“You already met his dad and told your first lie all on the first date? At this rate, you’ll be divorced by the end of the week.”
I sat up in bed. “I didn’t want to lie. But I knew they wouldn’t accept painter as a valid occupation.”
“Why did you think that?”
“Because my parents don’t. And Andrew’s dad is just like them.” I left out the part where Andrew laughed at me. If my
friends got wind that Andrew had treated me any less than perfect, they’d throat punch him. And I wanted to protect Andrew’s perfect throat at all cost.
“Is that what you want? Someone like your parents? Like your dad?”
I pulled off my shoes and earrings. “Ew. Who wants to date their dad?”
“My point exactly.”
“Well, Andrew is different. He’s handsome and sweet. He’s like Prince Charming, you know. He’s so well-mannered. I like that about him.”
She paused, and I could tell she was thinking. “Well, as long as you like him, I like him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t have played along with all of this if I didn’t think he was a good guy. Maybe a little uptight, but still a good guy.”
I smiled, remembering how he’d led me around the room with his hand on the small of my back introducing me to everyone. He never left my side. It was chivalrous and sweet.
“But, that’s what makes you two so good together. You’re so much alike.”
I frowned. “Are you calling me uptight?”
“No.” She sighed. “Look. If you like Andrew, I will do everything I can to support you. All I’m saying is that if you like this guy, make sure you like him because you want to. Not because you think you should or because you think he’ll make your life perfect. No guy can do that.”
Her comment stung.
“I like Andrew because I want to.”
I could practically see her nodding. “Good. Great. Excellent. Then I will be your biggest cheerleader. As a matter of fact, Cole wanted to come by tomorrow night to hang out. Why don’t you come over with Andrew? We can watch a movie. It’ll be like a double date.”
I stood in the center of my room, arms crossed.
“Yeah. Okay. I mean, I’ll ask.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bright and early.”
“Yeah. Good night.”
I ended the call but kept the phone in my hand.
What did she mean that I should like Andrew because I wanted to? Of course I liked him because I wanted to. He was handsome and sweet and kind and well-mannered. His home life was stable, and he had ambitions he didn’t have to be ashamed of. He was everything I looked for in another person. And some of the things I wanted in myself.