Page 9 of Miss Belief

As if I’d ever lie to my sister. She was a single mom who’d been through a parent’s worst nightmare with her child battling cancer. There was no hiding my bullshit from her. I hadn’t been able to do so when I was a kid, a teenager, or even now; nor was there any doubt she would always be on my side.

“Of course I want to do it. But I don’t think he’s over his ex-fiancée by a long shot. He revealed they’ve broken up multiple times, and all his friends and family will be expecting them to get back together.”

“But I thought his ex sucked his older brother’s dick.”

Like me, Tory didn’t have much of a filter. A hard life did that to you. It took away your ability to sugarcoat things. “Yes, and he says he doesn’t want her back.”

“You still in love with him?”

My face burned at her question. “I’m not in love with him. It’s a silly crush.”

One where I knew way too much information about him to be considered healthy, but I wasn’t in love with him. Pfft.

Jesus, did I really just do a mental pfft?

Her smirk was annoyingly perceptive. “In that case, then, you should pretend to be his girlfriend and get over it.”

“What do you mean get over it?”

“Crushes are based on infatuation. Infatuation is based on not really knowing someone. When he was engaged, he was off-limits, making it easy to keep things surface level and believe it couldn’t happen. So I’d argue if you get to know him better now, and there’s no longer the unattainable factor, you may be able to get over this crush. Demystify him and truly get to know him. Knock him off the pedestal you put him on and bring him down to the level of the rest of us mortals. That is, if you want to.”

I’d had a crush on Reid for so long it was hard to remember not being obsessed with him. But what if getting to know him better made him more appealing? What if my crush ended up turning into more?

“I don’t want to get hurt,” I admitted.

She sighed. “If you’re afraid you may get hurt, then it means your feelings are deeper than a crush, and you have to ask whether it’s worth the risk. As you said, it doesn’t sound like he’s over his ex, not by a long shot.”

Even if he was over his relationship, I was nowhere near Reid’s type, judging by his ex. If his taste in women was a cheese, his ex was brie while I was Cheez Whiz.

“Where is the wedding?”

“Turks and Caicos. He offered to fly me there for the weekend and then out to LA to see you afterwards if I wanted.”

“Not to sway your decision, but we’d love to see you. We have to be careful of what Penelope is exposed to, but a nice remission celebration at home with a movie marathon and her favorite foods would be amazing.”

Yes. It would. We both knew I couldn’t afford the thousands of dollars a plane ticket would cost to come see her on my own. I reasoned if I was doing Reid the favor of accompanying him to the wedding, he could fly me out to California. My sister and I were prideful when it came to accepting charity, but this was more of an exchange of favors.

“I’ll talk to him more about it tomorrow. But it would be nice to come home and visit. When is Penny’s next doctor’s appointment?”

She took the topic switch in stride. “In two weeks, she follows up with more blood tests. She’s starting to get her energy back, so I’m optimistic it’ll go well. Also, I have an interview on Friday. A real one. Hoping I can find a job with medical insurance.”

God, I hoped so too because fighting cancer without insurance had been an absolute nightmare. It wasn’t as if Tory hadn’t done all she could to find a job with medical benefits, but starting work at a new company while taking time off for chemo appointments for a sick child had proved impossible. It was too bad my niece couldn’t be on my medical insurance, but unfortunately, it didn’t work that way.

“What’s the job interview for?”

“An assistant position at a tech firm. If I can get a real job, I’m hoping to get a better apartment too.”

They were in South Los Angeles, not in the best neighborhood. Someday we’d have a different life. One where I moved back and braided Penelope’s newly grown hair, where we took her to a safe neighborhood park, and where we both didn’t have to take off our clothes for strangers in order to fund cancer treatment for a child.

Someday.

“Did you quit your other job at the restaurant yet?”

I exhaled a large breath, not wanting to get into that. My “job” at the restaurant was a cover for stripping and doing so in a country where such activity was highly illegal. We couldn’t mention it, not even over the phone. “Not yet. We can use the extra income to pay down the debt.”

She shook her head, the annoyance obvious on her face over the ongoing argument between us. “I’ve got it covered, Teag. I mean it. Take your weekends off. You deserve it.”

I was torn. On the one hand, I desperately wanted to quit stripping, especially given the risk here in the UAE, but on the other hand, the extra money would help us pay off the remaining medical debt and go toward getting a new apartment in a better neighborhood.