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“Fantasy, huh?” I laugh off the lump forming in my throat. “Let’s hope Blake’s into fairytales, then.”
“From what I see, honey, you’re the queen of his damn kingdom.” Maddy smirks.
A queen on a borrowed throne, I think as the lie sours on my tongue. “You’re too much. I’m changing back into something comfortable.”
“Fine, fine.” She points to my phone on my bed. “But you may want to respond to Prince Charming.”
CHAPTERSIX
AMANDA
Grabbing my phone,I reread Blake’s message asking what I’m up to and fire off a reply.
Me: I’m studying. How’d the game go?
Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest. It’s a Friday night, and I just admitted how lame I am to a guy who is more popular than God himself. He can hang out with people anytime, especially after a hockey game. So why is Blake Morton asking what I’m doing?
Blake: Another W! Come celebrate with me.
My mind races as I stare at the phone, dumbstruck. Why would Blake want me to go out tonight when the actual date is tomorrow? And why do I feel happy about it?
I let out a huff and jab my keyboard, tamping that shit down. This is nothing more than one colossal favor with a hefty price tag. Blake is a fuckboy who doesn’t want to settle down. He wants a front so his mother will stop her meddling, and he can continue those fuckboy ways. That’s all—nothing more to see here.
It’s best to keep this on transitional terms.
Me: That wasn’t part of the deal.
I glance at the doorway to make sure Maddy isn’t hovering. She’d never let me live it down if she saw the smirk playing on my face.
Several minutes pass before two notifications appear. I check the first one.
Blake: Check your Venmo account.
No way.
I open the app, and sure enough, I’m three hundred dollars richer.
Shit, this is the easiest money I’ve ever made. But I was kidding.Sort of.I wanted him to think along the lines of a business transition, not pay for another date.
Closing my eyes, I take a slow and steady breath. Is this how Mom got lured into false promises by my sperm donor? He swept into town, flashing his money while setting her up to fail.
Mom rarely spoke about him and died before she told me the entire story, but Grandma let it slip out one evening. Apparently, he was a baller who met my mom in a restaurant she worked at while in college. They had a short fling, but the asshole lacked morals and bailed after learning she was pregnant. He threw some cash at her for an abortion and took off after asking to be traded.
Obviously, she didn’t go through with it, but she dropped out of college and worked alongside my grandma as a full-time housekeeper for an affluent family.
Thus began my life lesson of how we minions without money are treated.
A wave of sadness and irritation sweeps through me as I punch out my response. No one can buy me off.
Me: I hadn’t agreed.
I enter the living room and spy my book sprawled open on the coffee table. I need to finish that chapter to free up time tomorrow so I can work on organic chemistry.
Blake: All work and no play…
Me: Makes me the grades I need for med school.
I laugh despite myself.
