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“Good, good. My joints were hurting those first few days, but I’ve gotten used to the job. I sit when I need to.”
“Take care of yourself.” That’s easy for her to say. Her job pays her more than enough, and while I’m so happy for her, she doesn’t quite understand the struggle of keeping a job when your health isn’t optimal.
“By the way, do you recognize the last name Remington?” I sneak the question in.
“As in Remington Agency? Like the real estate people?”
“Yeah.” I switch the phone to my other ear.
“Yeah, who doesn’t?” Her voice rings with confidence.
“Apparently, your best friend.” I go on to tell her what happened with Tristan. I end with my frustration and anger at his way of manipulating me into accepting money.
“Wait, wait . . .” Daisy interrupts me. “Tristan? He must be the younger son. He isn’t part of the family business. The older one is.”
“Was,” I correct her. “Hudson—and apparently, he branched out on his own here in Hartville.”
“No kidding. I have a friend who bought her house through him, and it’s amazing,” Daisy sighs.
“I’m sure it is.”
The houses I saw listed on their website are stunning—not your run-of-the-mill starter homes.
“So anyway, I believe Tristan hasn’t had much of a relationship with his family since high school,” Daisy continues.
“How do you know this?” Daisy is from Brookes, so I have no idea how she knows Hartville gossip so well.
“It’s common knowledge,” she says, amused. “They’re popular. What are you going to do?”
“Turn down his offer.” My voice is firm and holds a hint of anger. “He clearly lied.”
“I don’t think so. The trust fund story makes sense. He has cut ties with his family. I believe he meant what he said about all his volunteer work, so now he needs access to his trust fund. His parents could be that ruthless.”
“Or that controlling,” I add.
“Exactly. So it’s a win-win situation. You get money, he gets money, and you date.”
“I wouldn’t really be dating him,” I deadpan.
“Real, fake. Tomato, tomahto. You’ll go out with him, and you will have fun. Besides, you need this. It’s not like you’re on your deathbed, S.” I can hear the concern in her voice as tension builds in the conversation.
“I’m not a recluse. Look, I made a friend in my first week of work.” I sound like a little kid starting kindergarten.
“Yeah, and now build that friendship. You never accept help from people. Maybe it’s time to start.” Her tone is clipped.
She has a point. I’ve turned down help from her, my parents, and anyone who has offered. I want to prove to myself that I can live my own life, handle anything that comes my way. My pride is a blessing and a curse.
“Look, S, I love you like a sister, but no one does everything completely alone. We all need help. It’s part of being human.” She breathes a deep sigh into the phone.
“Yeah.” My eyes roll up to the ceiling in my room as her words sink in.
“I think you should tell him you’ll do it,” she says with finality. “What’s the worst that could happen? You have nothing to lose. It’s not like you’re gambling money you already have.”
She has a point. I sigh and close my eyes. I hate it when she’s right.
“Whatever,” I mumble.
Daisy laughs. “You know I’m right. If I were in your shoes and someone like Tristan was asking me to be his fake girlfriend, I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
