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“The bagels were nice,” she says, five minutes after leaving.
I grunt.
“Are we not friends now?”
“We were never friends.”
I see her pout in my periphery. Maybe she’s just trying to be nice to save face, because I had to set her straight, again. Not that Cash would know. It would’ve been so easy to slide those bikini bottoms aside and…
“I was kidding,” she says, looking out the window. I don’t know where this sudden confidence came from, but it’s a stark contrast to the quiet woman I drove yesterday and ran into last night when I saved her cat. “Breaking the ice. The truth is, I’ve never had a one-night stand in my life.”
I glance at her. Her words pique my interest. “Seriously?”
She sighs. “Pathetic, right?”
“Who am I to judge?”
She hugs her knees to her chest. “You’ve no idea the assumptions people make about you when you’re the daughter of the most successful businessman in LA. It kinda sucks sometimes.”
“Is that why you went on a reality TV show?” It comes out sounding a little harsher than I mean it to.
“No. I did it to prove a point, and I know to you I’m just some spoiled little rich girl who goes running to her daddy every time things don’t go her way, but life isn’t as uncomplicated as you might think it is, just because I have money.”
Here she is again, opening up to me. Does this girl really have nobody else to confide in? I know she has this friend Tara, but her tone is sad, like she’s trying to get her head around the concept. I can’t exactly tell her to shut up.
I’m intrigued.
“It isn’t?”
She shrugs. “Sure, for most people, money fixes a lot. But your problems aren’t non-existent just because of your financial status. It doesn’t make them go away.”
“Huh.” I’ve never really looked at it like that. I always thought the more money you have, the more problems you can solve.
She turns to me. “You don’t believe me?”
“Never really thought about it, to be honest.”
Our eyes meet, and she says, “Did you watch the show?”
I clear my throat and don’t answer.
“You did, didn’t you?”
I roll my eyes. “Only because the girls were goin’ on about it via a group text last night. It was annoying.”
Her eyes go wide. “The girls?”
“Luna and Jas. They’re big fans, apparently.” It’s the first I’ve heard of it.
She puts her face in her hands. “Oh, no. Is it too late to turn around?”
“Relax,” I say. “They’re cool. Between the two of ’em, as well as Cash’s ol’ lady, you’ll fit right in.”
“What are they like?”
“You’ll see soon enough, but probably nothin’ like you imagine.”
Just like that, all sexual tension has evaporated. I don’t know which way is up with this girl.
