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Remy rested his hand on my lower back and smirked down at me. “It’s not just the name. Memphis is also brilliant. She and Presley have that in common. She also attended Yale.”
Presley fanned her hand at me. “Oh, wow! What program?”
My stomach was in knots. “English. Much to my daddy’s chagrin. He never saw much use for literature in the family business.”
The woman’s heart shaped face tilted as she studied me. “I was in the English program, as well. What a coincidence!”
I was going to shit myself. I’d somehow met someone who went to the school I supposedly went to. We looked to be around the same age, too. “Small world!”
She named a class year and Remy chuckled. “That’s the year you graduated, right? I remember seeing it and feeling old because I graduated ten years before you.”
My mouth was bone dry. I could tell by the calculating look on Presley’s face that she knew I was full of shit. She knew I’d never gone to Yale for any program. I nodded at Remy and was saved by Boone before I had to say anything else. I couldn’t hear what he, or anyone else, was saying as I flicked my eyes to and from Presley. She knew that I was a liar. In the big picture of grifting, it was pretty fucking terrible.
Her eyes stayed on me and I could feel her considering her options. When the conversation naturally dipped, she smiled. “I’m just floored that we were in the same program and didn’t know each other. I mean, what are the chances? I thought I knew everyone.”
I took a deep breath and tried to prepare for the other shoe to drop. “I’ve always been a loner. My nose was probably buried in a book ninety percent of the time. I don’t think I left much of an impression on anyone.”
She raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Sure. It looks like dinner is about to start. We should get to our table, Frank.”
We said goodbye to the couple and sat back in our seats, just as someone took the stage where the band was to start the evening. My whole body felt shaky and I knew I wouldn’t be able to come down until I was back on familiar territory.
30.
***Memphis***
Stumblingmywaythroughdinner, I managed to at least sort of look like I knew what I was doing. I followed Remy’s lead with the silverware and listened politely while they spoke to the people sharing the table with us. I’d been introduced but I couldn’t remember their names. I could barely remember my own. I wasn’t even sure what the point of pretending was when Presley was going to expose me. I had to keep telling myself that breaking out in tears and running away wasn’t the answer. It was all I wanted to do, though.
Growing up, I’d never had the time or chance to feel ashamed of my status in life. Everyone I knew was poor. Being at the gala and experiencing how the rich live snatched all my security away. I felt like trash. I felt like the people around me, the richest of the rich, would be able to see through me in one glance. I wasn’t like them. I was Trailer Park Princess. That in itself was a painful reminder of my lack of belonging. In the trailer park, when the other kids saw how I read all the time and heard how I wanted to go to college, they made fun of me for dreaming and thinking I was too good for them. I didn’t fit in anywhere, but at least in the trailer park, I knew that no one around me could buy and sell my life ten times over.
I hated feeling stupid. I’d dropped out of school early to take care of my brothers and I’d always had a chip on my shoulder about it. I’d gotten my GED earlier than most of my peers, but it didn’t matter. I loved school and I’d failed at it. Feeling dumb triggered my insecurities and sitting in a room full of accomplished people talking about the stock market and the economy in Europe was making me feel several different types of dumb.
Wells bounced his leg next to me, never seeming to calm down. I wanted to comfort him, but he didn’t know I knew about his condition. I also needed comfort, though, so I reached over and gently rested my hand on his thigh. He grabbed my hand and squeezed right away. For a moment, I felt better, like I wasn’t so adrift. It was scary to know that whatever comfort I could find in Wells could be so easily snatched away by Presley, so that comfort was short lived.
“I’m going to go talk to a donor really quickly. I’ll be back.” Remy touched my shoulder and nodded. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah!” I would’ve groaned if I wasn’t paralyzed with the fear of making a fool of myself. Things had been easier with Charlie. He was a monster, but he told me what to do, gave me clear instructions. He lacked a soul of his own, I was pretty sure, so it was easy for him to be a chameleon and trick people. He’d taught me a lot, but there were some things that just couldn’t be taught. My discomfort at scamming men out of their money had never faded, much to Charlie’s dismay and frustration.
I’d also always been paranoid. I couldn’t have counted the times Charlie shouted at me for trying to jinx us with my talk of getting caught. I’d only ever been able to manage pulling things off with his help. I was glad I didn’t have it and that he was gone, but I was drowning in my mess.
“I’m going to run to the powder room.” I slowly got to my feet and watched as both Boone and Wells did the same. I smiled at them. “I’ve got it from here, y’all.”
A man across the table laughed heartily. “She’s adorable, Boone. Where’d you guys find her?”
I rushed away, not wanting to hear the sordid details. Sticking to the outside wall of the ballroom, I found an exit into a hallway and walked down it, grateful to be out of there. I didn’t care where it went, and when it led to a small balcony at the side of the hotel instead of the bathroom, I didn’t mind. I let myself out onto the balcony and took a few deep breaths of…not so fresh air.
I coughed as the smell of city hit me. I was not in the country anymore, that much was for sure. The sounds that filled the night were loud and constant. I couldn’t imagine sleeping anywhere so loud. The trailer park was full of fights and pickup trucks, but most of those noises settled down before it got too late. I could imagine the noises I was hearing stretching straight through the night. They felt never ending. Someone shouted in the distance and an alarm went off in another direction. My head filled with the noise and I found myself rushing to escape again.
In no hurry to get back to the table where I’d have to poorly pretend that I belonged, I walked through a few more hallways, thinking of a library I’d seen pictures of from another country. It lived in a building similar to the hotel I was in, and I imagined books lining the beautiful walls around me. The knots in my chest loosened.
The sound of jazz grew louder each time I got closer to the ballroom, but the hotel had enough offshoots that I could just slip down another and never even look towards the source of that sound. I had a feeling I was going to hate soft jazz when I made it out of the gala.
I was about to turn into another one of the offshoots and make myself scarce again when I heard Remy’s voice close by. I didn’t want to be caught avoiding the ballroom and I didn’t want him to think I was seeking him out, so I stopped and turned around, set to leave until I heard what he was saying.
“You guys enjoying the new field? I haven’t been able to stop by and see it yet.” His voice was softer than normal and it did something funny to my insides, almost as much as his demanding tone did.
A small voice replied to him. “It’s awesome! Mr. Greg won’t let us play football, but we’ve been playing baseball.”
“No football? Man, that’s tough.” Remy grunted. “Maybe I’ll talk to Mr. Greg. If I can get you guys pads and helmets, he might be okay with it.”
