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“What? That’s so ugly.”
“It is kind of ugly, but when you put it on, it looks good. It hugs all your curves, and that V neck is very flattering to your boobs.”
“I don’t really want the girls on display.”
“What?” she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking me up and down. “I think you should flat-iron your hair as well. It’s looking kind of frizzy right now.”
“That’s because it’s humid. I’m not flat-ironing my hair just to pop into some offices when I don’t even have an interview. I don’t even know if the attorneys will be there. I don’t even know if they’ll even see me to care about my frizzy mess.”
“Fine,” she said. “I was just trying to help you.” Her phone started beeping, and she grabbed it. “Oh, it’s Harriet.”
“What does she want?” I asked, staring at her. “To gloat about her man buying her another diamond necklace or something?”
“Don’t be a hater, Polly,” Chelsea said, looking at me. “It’s not a good look.”
“I’m not hating,” I said and then paused. “Fine. Maybe I’m just a little jealous, but hey, you are, too.”
“Just a little bit,” she said. “Oh shoot me now. Harriet just messaged.” She held up the screen to my face, and I read the texts quickly.
“Oh my gosh. Tell Harriet no.”
“But Finn says he knows some attorneys that are looking for people to work for them this summer. That would be perfect.”
“I don’t want to get a job because of Finn. I want to get a job because someone believed in me and my talents.” I glared at her. “I don’t need nepotism from the man banging our sister.”
“Fine,” she said, shrugging. “You do you, sis.”
“What’s that tone meant to mean?”
“I’m just saying I love you and all, but what talents do you have when it comes to the law?”
“I’m intelligent, I’m a fast learner, and…” I bit down on my lower lip. “Fine. Tell Harriet if it doesn’t work out with me finding someone myself, I’ll work for someone that Finn knows.”
“See, that’s not so bad.” Chelsea beamed at me. “Plus Finn knows successful attorneys. So you know if you get a job from them, maybe they’ll even give you a stipend or something.” She moved her head back and forth and started dancing. “Then you can make some money, money, money.” She started rapping, and I rolled my eyes as she pretended to throw cash up in the air. “Make those dollar dollar bills rain.” She winked at me and pretended to undo her bra and throw it on the ground. I knew if I told her off or reacted, she would just keep it up. She definitely fit the mold of the youngest child: immature, spoiled, and totally annoying.
“I mean that would be nice. There was this Louis Vuitton handbag I saw, and I asked Mom and Dad to buy it for me, and they just laughed when I told them how much it cost.”
“You know Mom and Dad are not going to give you money to buy a Louis Vuitton handbag.”
“But they’re millionaires now.”
“Barely,” she said, shaking her head.
“After taxes and then putting money into our trust funds and paying off the mortgage, they still have millions left.”
“Yeah, but they’re not going to blow a couple of grand on a cheap-looking handbag that you can buy in Chinatown for like twenty dollars.”
“But we are not going to Chinatown anytime soon, are we?”
“I know,” she said, “but I think Mom and Dad would be faster to send you to New York City so you could go to Chinatown and get a fake purse than they are going to be to buy you that purse.”
“Or I guess I could just get a job with a stipend like you said, and buy my own handbag without having to catch a flight and go anywhere.”
“True. But it would be fun for us to go to New York this summer,” she said dreamily. “I could go with you and…” She paused.
“What were you going to say?” I asked her curiously.
“Oh, nothing,” she said, shaking her head and looking at her watch. “Oh my, is that the time? Have a quick shower, and flat-iron your hair. Do it all within thirty minutes, and I’ll be back.”
