Page 31 of The Redheads


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Her smile wasn’t kind. “My name is Isobel. And Zeke and I are long-term friends.”

The way she said that made sense now. It wasn’t me she didn’t like. It was that I was sitting with Zeke. They’d slept together, I didn’t know who she was, she thought I should, and this was going to be a giant mess.

“I think you must be late now, right?” Zeke’s tone dripped with annoyance. “And let me finish breakfast with my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Isobel threw her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, how charming. Be careful, little redhead. He moves through us like he might tissue paper. See you all next weekend.”

He sat back in his seat while Danette and Renee rushed

by to thank me on their way out the door. Such a whirlwind of things happening. Isobel was gone, and I was glad for it. I buttered my croissant and ignored the pain in my stomach while I did. I’d had half a dozen conversations with this man over the last twenty-four hours. I had no business whatsoever caring who Zeke did or didn’t sleep with, or how many days he usually let that last.

The croissant tasted delicious. He was right. I needed energy. I’d focus on that. I chewed and swallowed. Once, then again.

“What you just did, that was a really nice thing.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you do that a lot? Tell people what they should wear?”

I sighed. “I didn’t tell her what to wear. She picked out her clothes. I just fixed her in them. I’m not a stylist. I didn’t purchase her clothing, I didn’t dress her in them. I made her feel better in what she’d done.”

“And people need that? To feel better in their own choices?”

“Sometimes.” Maybe he never did, and so he’d never understand it.

“I don’t know about women’s clothing. You untucked her shirt, you accessorized her. It was like a transformation from one version of her on the inside to the next, like she lit up. She spends every Thursday night volunteering in shelters with the homeless. Her daughter is really kind. And they both got fucked over by a man who moved on and moved away.” He sipped his own coffee. “Love and marriage. Who needs that kind of pain? In any case, you made her day. A complete stranger, so I’m more concerned with what that means about you. I haven’t seen anyone do something like that…maybe ever.”

He was making more of this than it had to be. “Like you said, I untucked her shirt. I didn’t find a way to cure the common cold. I’m done. I’m full. What are we doing now?”

“We’re going to get you some clothes. You can’t actually be done.”

“Don’t push it.” I glared at him. “I don’t want any more.” He twitched his mouth like he might smile but didn’t. “Okay. We’ll move on. Get you some clothes.”

“Are the stores open on Sunday? And I can afford this?” He still hadn’t told me what money I had.

“You need clothes while you’re here to do what I need you to do, so I’m going to pay for that. Don’t argue. It’s not charity. And no, you don’t have a lot of money in your account. You have no debt. He paid off your credit card before he took it away, which didn’t have much on it anyway. You are remarkably thrifty, considering things. Either that, or Kit was paying for everything. In any case, that is done.” He set down his coffee cup. “And something is fishy. That book was a hit. Look at this room. You should have a lot more money than you do. I think he stole from you when he emptied your account. I’ll prove it. And in the meantime, open you a new account, get you set up with a new future he can’t touch, and tell your father he can’t fuck with your life anymore.”

Sounded like a plan. I hoped he could do all of that fast because there was no way what I’d just done hadn’t been photographed. Someone had held up their phone and snapped a picture. I could almost guarantee it. I could always feel when I had eyes and camera lenses trained on me. It was like ants crawled on the back of my neck. I’d learned to ignore it. Being stared at was part of my life.

But I’d felt it in the café. My father might very well know I was dating Zeke the second he opened his eyes back in the United States five hours from now. This could all be over very, very soon. And I was sure Zeke would keep his word and help me. Still, it was a tall order, all the things he promised, and inmy experience, men didn’t want much to do with me after they’d gotten what they wanted.

I might not be Zeke’s pretend girlfriend very long. He might even beat his four-day record with me. Less than twenty-four hours before he put me on a plane back to New York.

Riding on his motorcycle was no less exciting the second time. We arrived at a boutique that didn’t look open when we pulled up, but was remarkably available the second we arrived at the door. I shot Zeke a look. He’d clearly arranged this.

I steeled my spine and ignored whatever look he was sending me as he handed his credit card to the saleswoman and told her something in French. I knew how to do this. I’d bought a lot of clothing in my life, and it wasn’t going to take long to figure out what I needed. All of it would be expensive, even the casual wear would be fancy in its own way, and I’d look exactly like I needed to by the time I walked out of this place.

Without waiting for her to say anything to me, I strode to the back. Better to just get this over with. I had a role to play, and I was going to do it. As fast as I possibly could.

Zeke looked up from his phone when I exited. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, I’m just done. All taken care of.” I shrugged. “Are we going to bring all of it back on your motorcycle?”

“No.” He rose. “They’ll deliver it later today. That didn’t take very long. I thought we’d be here quite a bit longer.”

Maybe for someone else. It would be fun to be let loose in a clothing boutique with women fawning over them, everything they could dream of presented to them. For me, it was a regular ritual. I knew what I needed, how to get it, what would fit and what wouldn’t. I didn’t want anything I didn’t need and none of it was fun.

“Guess I’m fast.”

He put his hand on the side of my face, cupping my cheek. “You’re not happy. Did they not have the things that you want? This place is always being talked about. I thought…”

I placed my own over his. It was a strange but also beautiful moment. No one touched me like this. There was an intimacy to the act that he hadn’t earned, and yet I wouldn’t have had him drop his hand for anything in the world. “I don’t like clothes. They’re a necessity. I have to look like I’m supposed to look. But it’s not…”

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