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As I make my first cup of coffee, I call Madison.
Since the reading of the will, I’ve really been trying to put myself out there and reconnect with both Madison and Samantha. Even though my shy and quiet personality has often made me feel like an outsider looking in, they never treated me that way. Throughout our years in high school, with them both being on the cheer squad and me stuck with my nose in a sketchbook, the treehouse still brought us together and kept us close friends. I know I’m as much to blame as Madi and Sam are for how all three of us have lost touch.
“What’s up, doll?” she greets in her usual over-the-top way.
“I need your help,” I blurt. “I need to learn how to stand up for myself. You’re so good at being firm and not letting people push you around. Can you help me?”
Madi laughs. “Sure thing. I’ll call Sam and you can meet us at my mom’s bakery this afternoon. Come around two, that’s after the lunch rush. The bakery will be nice and empty.”
“Thanks, I’ll be there.” I hang up with a renewed sense of hope.Next time, Dante, I’ll be ready for you.
* * *
Who knew working on being mean and having a backbone could be so exhausting? Madi smirks at me, her fingertips pressed together as she thinks up her next devious ploy. She and Sam have been throwing scenarios at me to see how I’d respond for half an hour now.
And my mind feels like it’s going to explode.
“Someone comes into your gallery angry that a painting they bought is ruined,” Sam suggests, brushing her golden hair over her shoulder. “It turns out that they put it in their shower, right under the shower head, and then left the water running.”
“What?” I gasp, staring at her in disbelief.
“It’s clearly their fault,” Sam says with a grin. “But they’re demanding a refund and a new painting for free. What do you do?”
I hesitate, caught between two replies. One is what I’d actually do, and the other is the ‘correct’ answer that they’re looking for. “Um, tell them no and send them away?”
Sam gives me a hard look. “Would you?”
“No,” I admit, wrinkling my nose with a heavy sigh. “I’d probably end up giving them a free painting unless Stella or Max interfered. I’d try not to give the money back, though.”
Madi laughs in her usual, free way. Some people think she goes overboard, but I don’t. I love her personality, even the rough edges. She has a way about her that makes me feel like she always has my best interests at heart. I can get a bit irritated with her sometimes, but she’s a peach. Most of the time, at least.
“Let’s practice,” she says and puts on a fake angry face. “I bought a painting from you and wanted to hang it in my shower. It’s your fault the water ruined it! Give me a million dollars.”
“No,” I say firmly. That does feel good. “No, I’m not doing anything like that. It’s your own fault.”
Madi narrows her eyes. “Listen here, Missy. Give me a million dollars for this ruined painting because you never told me I couldn’t shower with it.”
“No.”
Sam giggles, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Then Madi does something that’s utterly unfair. She scrunches up her face, makes her lip tremble, and even squeezes out a tear. “Please?”
I bite my lip. “No?”
“Aw, sugar.” Madi leans across the table and kisses my cheek. “You were doing so well!”
“I’m feeling stressed out,” I admit. “I didn’t realize being assertive could be so stressful.”
Madi nods. “How ‘bout we take a break, then? We can have a relaxing girls’ day and go to the spa, and then have a wine sleepover at my place.”
Ugh. Having my teeth yanked from my skull sounds like a better idea. I hate spas. I hate having people fuss over me. It always ends up with me feeling like I’m causing extra work for the people whose job it is to pamper me. I glance at my paint-stained cuticles and grimace. They’d be scrubbing the skin off my hands to clean them up, and Madi would insist I get false nails that I can’t work in.
A thud hits my leg, making me jump.
“Ow,” I mutter in surprise.
Sam raises her eyebrows meaningfully at me. She must have seen how much I dislike the idea. Madi is waiting with an expectant smile. Ugh. So she picked it on purpose, knowing that I hate spa days.
