“Oh, no. That’s sad, his dad was always great to us.”
He was. We often gathered at Mac’s house as teenagers because his dad was more laid-back than most of the parents. I think he enjoyed the noise and chaos we brought with us.
“Maybe you could stop by while you’re here,” I slyly suggest.
“Maybe you could mind your own nonexistent love life instead of meddling in mine,” she snarks back.
“How do you know it’s nonexistent?”
“Because you think you have a shot with the famous woman next door. No woman wants a delusional man.” Her words could assassinate, except her smile is disarming.
“Just how famous is she?”
“She’s not a household name like Gigi Hadid.”
“Who?”
“Oh my God,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. “Anyway…she’s not at the tippy top of the highest paid models, right now. She’s only a tier or two down, though. Everyone wants her in their shows and in their clothes. Especially the couture designers.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I say.
“She’s wildly successful and is quickly becoming missed.”
“Missed enough to keep her safe from her ex?”
“Unfortunately, he’s even more successful. And sadly, as much as fashion should rule its own industry, it seems fame wears the crown.”
Nine
Lou
“Crime and punishment grow out of one stem.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
For the first time in years, I wake up without trepidation. My eyes open with no worries at what trauma the day will bring. For the couple of weeks I’ve been in Stowaway, even knowing I’m safe here, my sleepy brain didn’t believe it. I’d wake with the same tight-chested anxiety I’ve carried with me for too long now.
Not today. There was no fear buried deep in my belly. The smile on my face was true instead of the lie I wear more often than not.
I don’t move from my bed to the bathroom as silently as possible, for fear of reminding someone of my presence. There’s no sifting through memories to ensure that the dishes were all done, the counters clean, the trash taken out. All major penalties in Pierre’s world.
Here, I won’t be punished for existing.
One of these days, I’ll have to leave a dirty dish in the sink overnight just to remind myself that I can. Maybe I’ll throw my clothes over the back of a chair for a couple of days. Something to test the waters and my reactions that have been trained by torment.
When I enter the kitchen after my shower, Juliet is coming in through the back door.
“Perfect timing,” she says, handing me one of the two mugs she carries. “I went over and stole Grady’s coffee.”
“Ooh, thank you,” I say, smelling the caramel notes before I take a sip. “I didn’t realize how close you two are.”
“Yeah, he’s like a brother. You know, annoying and boorish,” she says, but laughs.
“It’s nice. What you two have? It’s nice,” I say. “He’s nice.”
“He has his moments,” she says, somewhat dismissively, as if he’s the last person she wants to talk about, or has something else on her mind. After a few sips, she tunes back into her surroundings. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“I was hoping we could get in touch with Luke’s guy. See if I can get a handle on my finances. Then, I’d like to do something defiant.”
