AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Jesus, are you wearing a wig?” Eden hissed.
“Obviously.”
“Why?”
“Because I—never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, no, it does. You’re going to tell me why you’re here in disguise. That makes no sense.”
Because sometimes it’s nice not to be me. Because old habits die the hardest of all. Because I like the feeling.
Jos shrugged. “We’re here to talk about you. Taking that job.”
Eden crossed her arms. She was getting a stubborn pout on lips that were full without any enhancement, when a young waitress came by to ask if they wanted drinks. Jos ordered a soda water and Eden got a double whisky.
Jos raised a brow. “Whisky?”
“When you’re raised rich, you learn to drink hard, I guess. Anyway, I’m not driving. I planned for a cab, seeing as this was a pub. I can have a double if I want to.” Something flashed over Eden’s beautiful face. She was a knockout. So gorgeous that every single person in the pub was turning to stare at her, some discreetly, others not. Eden was completely oblivious to the fact that her makeup-free face, non-descript black blouse, and skinny jeans were drawing such a reaction.
“That’s the real reason you became a journalist? Rebellion? You said it wasn’t, but I think you were lying. To yourself, even.”
Jos expected a fight. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to provoke one, except that it excited her in a way she’d never been excited before to see Eden’s eyes flash with anger. To her utter disappointment, it appeared that Eden had better learned how to compose herself since that afternoon. She’d lost her raw edges when she responded.
“I got tired of people using me as a stepping stone or an open doorway to see what they could get from my parents. Using me because they straight up just wanted my dad’s money.”
Jos drank the rest of her gin and tonic and set the glass aside. “I suppose those are the hazards of being the only daughter of filthy rich, well-connected parents.” She said it lazily, as if she were stating it had just started to rain outside.
Eden couldn’t hide her snarl, which was unusually attractive. Jos didn’t understand why she could provoke such reactions. It wasn’t just excitement. It made her feel something, and that was shocking in and of itself. Even with Sandra, she hadn’t actually allowed herself to feel real, bone deep emotion. She’d been that way for a very long time.
Eden shrugged like Jos’ arrow hadn’t hit the mark. “I wanted to try something else. Something I wholly loved and believed in. Something where I could just be me. The other hazard of being raised a spoiled heiress is that you learn how to not take shit from anyone. You grow up with a backbone of steel. That backfired on my parents because it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind about this. And I’m not going to change my mind now.”
“No?” Jos prompted, but she kept her tone bored. “That doesn’t sound like you believe in anything, then. That sounds more like you’re turning yourself into the cliched rebel who needs mommy and daddy to hear her roar.”
Eden sat up straighter in her chair. “That’s not what this is about,” she snapped. She pursed her lips and tore her gaze away, letting it roam over the small pub. She stopped for a second on the TV behind the bar, watching sports replays and highlights. When her gaze tracked back, she was disappointingly composed again. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re not very nice?”
Jos would never admit to herself how that stung. She’d also never admit that she liked the fire burning in Eden. The fire that went so much deeper than the amber flecks in her dark eyes. Flecks that only shone when she was angry, Jos was coming to realize. “I’ve been told that I’m blunt and to the point. I took it as a compliment.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”
“Maybe you should stop posturing and take the damn job. You know, if you are about doing all the good that you can do and making a real difference. If this isn’t just about how developed your backbone is.”
The waitress was working her way around the pub, dropping off drinks at other tables. She eventually, unhurriedly, set down their drinks and ambled away without asking if they’d like anything else or if they wanted to order food.
“You’re very keen on me taking this job.” Eden was very perceptive. She looked at Jos like she could see right through her, straight to the pit of her lies. She picked up her glass, and without ceremony, tossed back the double shot of whisky like the amber liquid was nothing more than juice. “What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing,” Jos lied. It made her gut feel twisted and sour. “I just believe in good journalism.”
Eden snorted. “You believe in kissing the asses of rich old men who think they’re infallible because the world treats them that way.”
Jos shrugged. “Or maybe that.”
She’d deflated Eden’s argument with just a hint of vulnerability and honesty. She pushed harder, knowing that she had everything on the line. “You don’t like me because I remind you of everything you’re fighting so valiantly against. Disingenuous living. People using each other as ladder rungs on the way up. It’s worse, because I wasn’t born into that. It’s somehow wrong for me to enjoy the things I’ve worked so hard for.”
“I think we might differ on what it means to work hard.”
Jos shrugged again just because she could see how it infuriated Eden to see her do it. She liked the slight pink flush that colored her cheeks above those sharp cheekbones. Eden Rutherford could be a fairy or a pixie quite easily. If some movie set rolled into town, she’d fit the part to perfection.
“This really isn’t about me at all. This is about you and what you want.”
