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Among other things.
I should have known better than to get drunk the other night. I knew that could only lead to me making a fool of myself. I just didn’t count on Flynn being willing to make a fool of himself with me.
“What are you looking at out there, girlie?” Cash asks, leaning on the arm of my chair.
“Uhm, I –” I quickly look back to the group of girls. We’re all sitting around with our toes drying from a pedicure, sipping mimosas. “They’ve been out there a while. I just hope Flynn’s putting on his sunscreen.”
“Oh, yeah,” Adelaide giggles. “He just burns, doesn’t he?”
It’s silly for me to feel possessive over a man who isn’t mine to begin with. But if he’s not mine he’scertainlynot hers. After all, I’m the one sleeping next to him. And kissing him. Andmarkinghim. I’ve had to hide a smile every time someone points it out. “Yes, I’d hate for him to be in misery with a sunburn,” I say to her, forcing a smile. Then I look down at my toes. I picked a turquoise blue. Feels very juvenile when I compare them with all the other girls who picked various shades of beige.
“Flynn’s going to be miserable no matter what,” Adelaide scoffs.
I eye her across the circle. “What’s that mean?”
She shrugs, sipping on her mimosa. She loves to play dumb after saying the most heinous shit.
“No, really,” I egg her on with an innocent smile. “You think he’s miserable?”
“Well, not with you. That’s obvious, girl,” she smiles back at me with a cattishness that puts me on edge. “Just when we were together, he was always working and, well, the poor thing didn’t really know how to enjoy himself. I just hope he’s figured that out since.”
“Right, well it’s been two years. He’s had a lot of time to grow, don’t you think?” I ask, returning her condescending lilt back to her like this is a game of tennis.
Adelaide’s green eyes sharpen in mine. “His taste has certainly changed, I’ll say that.”
“Oh, Adelaide, don’t be a bitch,” Cash interrupts, touching my arm. “Just because Flynn wasn’t the guy you wanted him to be doesn’t mean he isn’t good for someone else.”
“I know that, Cash,” Adelaide replies with some bitterness, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. “We’re just different types of girls. I think Stella would agree with that.”
This is what I was afraid of. Not just feeling othered butbeingothered. Women like Adelaide know how to wield their looks like swords. And, man, does it cut deep. I manage my last scrap of dignity and nod, “We are. Very different.”
“I think what Adelaide means is that, you know, you’re like a regular girl,” Brandy peeps up in her southern twang. She says the word regular as if it’s some exotic thing. You know, you’re normal. I think I’m a little jealous. Aren’t you a little jealous, Addy?”
I shake my head. “We don’t have to do this. You know?” I try to laugh it off. “Like, we all know I’m not famous or rich. I’m just along for the ride.”
“Well, you will be famous and rich as long as you’re with Flynn,” Adelaide says, her voice low and dry.
“What are you implying?”
Adelaide eyes me. She takes a long sip of her mimosa. Then, she licks her top teeth. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t blame you if that was a big part of why you’re together. I know how difficult he can be.”
She’s questioning my character. But that’s not even why I’m mad. I’m with Flynn because this is a business transaction. Fuck whatever she thinks about why I’m here. I’m mad because she’s talking about Flynn as if he’s some corporate robot. Admittedly, I’ve seen him that way in the past, probably even called him that in an argument.
Even so. That’smycorporate robot. Not hers.
“I’m not going to sit here and tell you that the experience you had in a relationship with Flynn isn’t true. But I’d thank you for not assuming that I’ve had the same experience. It’s been two years after all. You’ve both grown,” I say, feeling satisfied that I’ve put the kibosh on the conversation.
Adelaide sighs. “I’d agree with you, but he did come to my party, didn’t he? Didn’t growthatmuch.”
“Adelaide,” Cash snaps.
My heart is chasing itself in a circle. Flynn has been hung up on her since the breakup and he did enlist me to fake a relationship with him in order to show her he’s moved on. Or make her jealous. So why am I letting myself believe anything is growing between us? Not only can it never happen. It won’t. I’m here as a conduit. Not a lover.
I’m not here for love or to defend Flynn. All I am is a prop. A tool.
At least now I can say a supermodel has broken my heart.
“I think my toes are dry,” I say, getting to my feet. “I’m going to go rest before dinner.”
