Page 9 of The Cost of Love

Instantly, her joy melts from her face, lines of frustration taking over. The reason I am still in her life surfaces as I do what I promised my sister I would.

“I have nothing to say to her.” She moves the cup away, signaling that she is done with both it and the conversation.

I don’t give in this time. “She’s pregnant.”

I hope this is enough to persuade her to concede without a fight. After all, becoming a grandmother is an honor most women look forward to.

She shakes her head, making it clear that this rite of passage is not as important to her. The only grandchild she will likely care about is the one who will take the business from me. Just like she only cared about having a son to take it from my father.

“She made her choice.” She smooths out the nonexistent lines in her skirt, now refusing to look at me.

“Please, Mother.” I lift her chin with my fingers, forcing her to make eye contact.

I should know better than to think emotions will move her, but I still force all my desire into my eyes, hoping she feels it.

“Three dates,” she counters, seeing my want for weakness.

The breath that pushes out of my mouth has years of disappointment in it. She doesn’t hear it; instead interpreting it as another win.

“I only want what’s best for you, Alexander.” In some twisted, perverse way, this is sometimes true. Like when she fought with my father to let me go travel before taking over the company. Or cultivated my sister’s passion for languages with classes they took together. Sometimes she does really try to show us that she cares.

“I know that, Mother.”

Standing up, she grabs her purse from off the couch where she left it. “I will text you her number.” Making her way back towards the stairs, these are her parting words.

Her presence has dampened my mood enough that the tiredness slips to the forefront. Heading to my bed, I comfort myself with the knowledge that at least tonight I will get to do what I want. It lulls me into an easy sleep.

Chapter 5

Chanice

Ipull at the clingy fabric as Jessie tries to wrangle me into one of her skintight dresses. The red lace overlaying a satin slip sticks to me as she slides it down over my head.

“I don’t know about this,” I say as the fabric presses all around me.

“Believe me, you’re going to look great.”

The plus side to having a friend the same size as you is sharing clothes. The bad side is that you have no excuse to say no when you don’t like them. Despite my better judgment, I let her get it on me with little to no fight.

As she adjusts the hem, I turn to look at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. Not completely discouraged by the look of it, I rotate from side to side, taking it all in.

The fit makes all my curves come through, creating dips and creases in the fabric. It’s short enough that my legs, shaved and full of lotion, are on display, looking touchable. I actually look pretty good. Good enough that I could pass for someone who could afford to go to this posh restaurant he chose.

“See. You look stunning. Now let’s just fix your hair and put some eyeliner on you.” She drags me to the vanity and plops me down on the stool.

Gathering my coiled curls, she pulls two pieces out front to frame my face. She places the rest in a bun on the top of my head, using a ponytail and bobby pins. With a toothbrush and some edge control, she slicks down my baby hairs until they’re pressed down on my forehead in swirls.

I turn to face her as she picks up the black eyeliner and uncaps it.

“Do you want it to go all around or just the wing?”

“Wing,” I say.

She gets to work, steadying me with one hand on my chin. Her manicured eyebrows pull together in the middle of her forehead as she concentrates on drawing a clean line. Having mastered makeup at a young age, Jessie knows how to make eyes and lips pop on an otherwise round face.

“I can’t believe after all the work I did, you are the one who landed a rich guy.” She tsks with her tongue, all while smiling, to let me know she isn’t really upset.

“I know. It’s mad. But don’t worry, I’m just some itch for him to scratch. He said we’re complete opposites, and that is why he wants to date me. ”