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“Here, I’ll take this and clean it later.” Lizzy quickly intervened and slid the cup from the table. Once Rory’s eyes went to the table she saw that Arsen had stuck all of his belongings there. The wallet, the thousand dollars he promised her, a bunch of rings, his dead cell phone, and a bag of what looked like marijuana.
“What the hell is in that bag?” Rory sneered.
“This bag? Just some... herbs.” Arsen snorted. This time, she had no doubt that there was an intentional smirk plastered on his face. Rory rushed forward and grabbed the little plastic bag.
“First you smoke in my house and then I find drugs? In my own house!” Arsen slumped in his seat and shrugged, utterly unaffected by her outburst.
“But Rory…” Lizzy started.
“Stay out of it, Lizzy.” Rory shut her up with one look. “I am going to dump this bag in the garbage. No drugs in my house.” She opened the bag and was about to dump it in the wicker wastebasket when Arsen spoke up, still calm as a cucumber.
“Don’t do that. That is very…rare stuff.” He crossed his arms. “Look, I’ll be out of your hair in a bit and you won’t have to deal with all this anymore. Just give me back the bag and I promise I won’t smoke or do anything else to piss you off. At least I’ll try…” The last line he said quietly to Lizzy with a chuckle, who quickly suppressed her laughter.
Rory couldn’t decide if he was asking, or telling. The man was arrogant though. He had not even said as much as a thank you for all that she had done for him so far, neither had he been humble or shown any other signs of gratitude.
She decided that she didn’t even want the money he was offering to fix the wall. Rory just wanted this Arsen Ford to leave her house and her life for good.
“That’s it. You gotta go. I have put up with you for too long,” Rory said with a downturned mouth that exhibited her contempt for him.
“But Aurora?” Lizzy pleaded. She only called her Aurora when she wanted a favor, but another angry look from Rory shut her up.
“All right. If that’s what you want.” Arsen got up from the couch but grimaced and his leg wobbled. Clearly, his ankle was still not better. He sat back on the couch and massaged his ankle, his lips thinning to hide a pained expression. Unwilling to waver from her stance, Rory said nothing till Arsen spoke up.
“Look… Rory…” Arsen said, as if trying to remember her name. “I’ve already called my manager this morning. He’s going to be here in no time at all and then I will be out of here for good. Till then can I sit here and wait for him?”
Rory didn’t like the entitled tone, but she felt she had no choice but to let him wait. She was too kind of a person to throw out an injured man. Besides, the house was big enough for her to stay out of his way.
“He’s your responsibility till he goes.” She turned to Lizzy with a pinched look.
“Yes! Totally. I’ll totally take care of him. And Rory, maybe we can have breakfast together? I’ll be happy to cook something for all of us,” Lizzy said with a huge smile on her face. She’s never offered to do anything like this for me before, but now that her darling Arsen Ford is here, suddenly she’s top chef.
“No need for that, I can cook breakfast in my own home,” she replied to Lizzy and stormed out, completely avoiding all eye contact with Arsen. Rory was starved and the idea of breakfast was appealing. As she left the room, she could hear Lizzy giggle as Arsen said something.
I bet he’s making fun of me, she thought.
6
Now I’m cooking breakfasts for strangers? Rory couldn’t shake off the feeling of bitterness as she threw some bacon on the skillet. She wasn’t sure why she was doing this especially when she was so annoyed. Annoyed at this man and his car-crashing ways. Annoyed at Lizzy’s fascination with him. Annoyed that he had made her pretty little teacup into an ashtray.
Who the hell does he think he is?
As the bacon sizzled and the bread toasted, Rory’s curiosity got the better of her and she pulled out her phone to Google “Arsen Ford.”
Lead guitar player and the main songwriter of Insurrection. Hmm. She had heard the name of this band in passing before but never really paid them much attention. Three-time Grammy-winner and widely considered the best guitar player of his generation. This guy? She looked up from the phone screen toward the living room where he sat, as if she could see through the walls.
Apart from all the musical accolades that were thrown his way, there was also a ton of gossip surrounding him. From the news reports, Arsen seemed like your typically obnoxious, playboy rockstar. No surprise there, Rory rolled her eyes. Flings with countless movie stars and models, pictures of wild parties in Ibiza, punched a man in a bar once, and even stormed off the stage in Cabo Hall, Detroit.
Rory simply couldn’t understand why people like Arsen did what they did. They had such fabulous lives full of riches, fame, and adoring fans, and yet they managed to make a complete mess of it. What use are three Grammys when you’re being a jackass all the time? she wondered. Most of all she wondered why she was cooking breakfast for this guy.
Well, it’s not every day that you get to cook for a Grammy-winner. I wonder what the girls in NYC would think of this development.
The latest reports on TMZ showed paparazzi photos of Arsen and his band arriving on a private jet on the party island of Montcove. Party island? Montcove? It gave Rory a smirk of her own to realize how the media portrayed this quiet place.
The Italian herb bread from Martha’s bakery was done toasting up, and the fried eggs were glistening with bacon grease. It had been forever since she got fresh bread from Martha’s.
When Grandma Colleen was alive, she’d make a point to have plenty of Martha’s goodies to go around. She remembered one summer in Montcove as a young girl that she was fascinated by the idea of breakfast in bed. When she asked her granny for that, she was met with a simple reply: “If you want breakfast in bed, sleep in the kitchen.”
Rory wondered how her grandma would react to Arsen crashing his car and being in here. She’d probably help him out and then give him a stern lecture. What I wouldn’t give to see that? What I wouldn’t give to have her back in my life? She let out a wistful sigh.
