The False Flat

CHAPTER 10

EIGHT CALLS, PENELOPE?

“One card before we go out to meet Deanna and her friends,” I said to Chad two weeks later as we sat on my bed, and I held up a small box.

I’d covertly ordered the cards from Amazon, something similar to the ones Deanna had that first disastrous night I’d gone over there. I couldn’t remember the exact name of what she’d had, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask. I’d found my own, a set with four and a half stars and 5,230 ratings that promised “150 Conversation Starters for Couples to Strengthen Their Relationship.” I’d broken out in a cold sweat after I’d ordered them, again when I was alerted they were out for delivery, and my whole body shook when I first took them out of the package.

Who buys this stuff?

But exposure therapy works, mostly. Every day for two weeks, I’d taken them out of the shoebox in the closet and made myself hold them.

Chad, in his slate button-down and crisp black slacks, leaned over and kissed down the side of my neck. “So, what are we doing?”

I hesitated, thinking maybe this was a bad idea, but Deanna had asked me if Chad had siblings. I didn’t know, and she couldn’t believe I didn’t know, and I couldn’t believe I didn’t know, and—we needed to do this, to get to know each other better.

I also needed to distract myself because tonight, he was not only meeting William, Deanna, and Grant, but I was meeting Deanna’s friends.

In the two weeks since Grant had shown up with matcha at my door, I’d gone on another ride with their bike crew. I adored William, who complemented Deanna in every way, and, to my surprise, Grant had also grown on me. He needed to lose the mustache, but he’d been nice enough and had taken the time to walk me through the concept of clipless pedals and shoe-pedal compatibility, which I hadn’t known were a thing. Best of all, Deanna and I had forged an unexpected relationship, building on what had apparently started that night at her house. We’d lunched multiple times. She randomly texted me. And after she’d seen my house—she’d insisted on seeing it—we went shopping, and she helped me decorate. I’d even heard her refer to me as her friend.

I liked the slow progression of incorporating someone into my life. And now, Chad was a part of that; at least I wanted him to be. He seemed especially important since my feelings for Grant were shifting. I liked spending time with him, and Grant was absolutely off limits for so many reasons, the chief being his girlfriend, Elaine, whom I’d be meeting tonight. No, the chief being, I wasn’t interested, no matter what other parts of my body seemed to suggest. Thank God for Chad was all I was saying.

I opened the box like a live tarantula was inside and yanked out a card, read silently, then aloud like a robot, “‘What’s one thing you think I could improve on?’”

For the first time, I needed to turn Chad into a number. It was the only way I was going to get through this. A smooth five. I hadn’t asked him; I’d asked a smooth five. The five rolled his eyes.

“You’re serious? You think a box of cards will help us ‘get closer’?”

He tried to kiss me again, but I shrugged him off.

“Fine,” he sighed. “What was the question again?”

I looked back down at the card I’d already memorized, repeated it.

He smirked, took the card out of my hand, slid it back into the box, and tossed the box onto the floor. It made a loud thud and then a swish as the cards fanned out across the hardwood.

“You know what you need to change, Pen Auberge? The fact that you have clothes on.” He pulled the tie on the side of my black wrap dress and slid his hand around my bare waist. “I have a better way for us to get to know each other.”

I stood, throwing him off balance, and pulled the dress—which matched his outfit—back around me. I didn’t know why I was surprised. This was how we worked. We connected in bed. And while it was amazing, we needed more. Didn’t we?

“We’ll be late if we try to do anything now.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “But we have time for a game?”

It wasn’t a game, but I didn’t argue. I wanted him to be in a good mood when he met everyone.

He bit his lower lip and let a sigh rumble up from deep in his throat. “Now that I’m here and we only have the weekend and you look so sexy, I want to keep you to myself. Why don’t you call Deanna and cancel?”

“Because I like Deanna. She’s important to me.” My tone was firm because I was irritated that he was trying to back out. “And she wants me to meet her friends.”

He shifted upward. “More important than me? You’ve known these people a handful of weeks, tops. Come on, Pen. You can’t possibly want to stay in Nashville, and these constant weekend flights are going to bankrupt me.”

He could make weekend flights for an entire year and barely touch his significant nest egg. I knew; I managed his money.

“If we’re going to be together,” he added, “then don’t you think it’s more important to focus on us?”

I wanted to bring up the cards, but I bit my tongue. I didn’t have a good answer for him. But I did know that Deanna had kept close even when I’d tried to push away. It was like she knew what I needed, like she sensed my desire under my reservation. Most people would’ve called me an ice queen and moved along. To be honest, I was a little giddy at the whole business, which is why I’d finally agreed to this evening. Simultaneously, it felt terrifying and good having a friend, even though under the surface doubt hummed, a constant reminder not to build anything too high, or the inevitable crash would leave scars.

“What if I said I wanted to stay in Nashville?” I ventured.

His jaw sprang shut, clenched. He didn’t want to believe me. Long distance was not working for him.

His face relaxed as he shifted off the bed and walked the three feet to me, then wrapped both his arms around my lower back and pulled me to him. “I’ll change your mind.”

His eyes were heavy lidded, and his mouth held a hint of a smile. He was banking on his sex appeal, which he had in spades, to woo me.

I shouldn’t have pushed the conversation right before dinner, but I didn’t cave in to him, like I usually did when his voice was low and I liked how he wanted me. “I’m serious. Everything is better here.”

His arms dropped with a slap on his thighs. “Business is better here?”

I threw too much enthusiasm into my voice. “Yes! My business is thriving.” Wow. My business was not thriving. I had one new client, a guy who thought two thousand dollars was a ton of money. But in the last couple of weeks, with Michelle’s help, I’d developed a website and marketing collateral. And I’d also created an account with BNI, a referral organization. My materials were thriving, and that was part of my business. Part of my business was thriving!

“You know you’re probably only staying afloat right now because you manage my family’s money. My dad was a little concerned when you left Twin Cities.”

Why is he mentioning this?

A week after I’d met Chad, I’d started managing his money. A week after that, he’d talked his family into signing with me, though they knew a good planner when they saw one. And I knew full well that Chad had talked his dad into staying with me when I left TCF, but that was less for my sake and more for theirs. It’d been sticky keeping them all as clients, but I needed them. He knew I needed them.

“Are you threatening to pull your family’s money if I don’t go back?” My body shook.

If he pulled their business, I’d be crippled, and I might be forced to go back, exactly what he wanted. Because I couldn’t grow my own money fast enough, given all my recent expenses, without a lot more smaller clients or at least another large one.

I turned away from him, trying desperately to harness my breathing. I eyed the stationary bike I’d purchased a couple of weeks ago, which was positioned by the window, for the stormy days. A mental necessity.

He sighed again. “Of course not. I’m worried about you. I feel like these people are changing you. You’re not the same girl I loved in the Cities.”

“You mean I’m not the same girl who goes along with everything you want to do?”

“See, this is what I mean! We’re arguing over stupid stuff, like Vicki and I used to.”

Vicki.For the past several weeks, I’d cyberstalked her just to confirm to myself that she was happy, but there was no need. She was already engaged to someone else, anxiously awaiting her and Chad’s divorce to be final so she and her new guy could wed in Maui—she’d indeed been in love with her best friend. She looked really happy. Ironically, I wanted what she had.

“Well, you don’t have to worry, Chad, because I’m not like Vicki.”

“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I—”

My phone started ringing on the dresser Deanna had helped me pick out, white wood that matched the white sleigh bed I’d also purchased. All the white made the royal purple accent pillows and fleece throw pop; the room was morphing into a livable space, like a real human lived here.

I went to my phone.

“Hello, Mother,” I said, and then held up a finger to Chad, not the finger I wanted to either.

His lips curled in satisfaction as he returned to my bed, propping himself up on his arms and crossing his legs at the ankles. He was glad my mother was calling. They both wanted me to return to Minnesota, something they discussed during their weekly lunches without me. Gross.

I turned my back to Chad.

“Eight calls, Penelope?” My mother’s tone radiated high and mighty.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. I was planning to call you tomorrow when I had more time. Chad and I were about to leave for dinner.”

“At least you have a good excuse.”

Bingo.

“Give Chad my love, will you?” she continued. “Has he convinced you to come to your senses and move back here yet? What’s that noise? A saw? Is Chad sawing?”

That had been my teeth grinding, little pieces of enamel shearing straight out of my mouth.

“I’m putting on lipstick,” I lied. “It must’ve been the phone against my cheek.”

“Oh, speaking of! I found the most perfect perfume for you. It’ll go flawlessly with the summer outfit I found. I can see it now, you on Chad’s arm floating into summer garden parties, impressing everyone. I’ve been keeping in close contact with Houston. TCF still wants you back.” Duh, so they could have me work my ass off, then serve said ass with a chilled chianti during a celebratory dinner where they congratulate Dougan or Frenchy or some other equally douchey-named finance sleaze on his new client acquisition.

I wanted to scream, but I held it in as my lips twitched and I stared at the wall like a psycho in an asylum.

My mother’s mission was to mold my life into her perfect vision. I was her Barbie doll. Now, she had a dream house, matching Ken doll, and high-profile career picked out, all in demure shades of beige, black, and white, all made of plastic. And not the good kind of Beige and Black who inherited money. Some part of me still wanted to bend to her will. It was easier when she made all the decisions.

“Mother, can we talk about this later? Chad’s waiting, and he looks like he’s getting impatient.”

Chad sat up and whispered, “Why did you tell her that? I want her to like me.”

I covered the mouthpiece. “Oh, stop. You’re so far up her ass, I can smell your cologne when she talks.”

His mouth dropped open, and he reddened slightly.

Was it wrong to take pleasure in using them against each other?

“Of course,” Aurora said. “You two have fun. I can’t wait to see you. Make it soon.”

“Soon. Yes. We’ll talk soon.”

“Kiss, kiss.”

I ended the call and attempted to inhale. My phone rang again in my hands, and I gripped it so hard the plastic case started to crackle. But when I looked at the screen, it wasn’t my mother. An unknown caller from Minnesota.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Pen, thank God I got you.” A woman, but whoever it was, was whispering. I couldn’t place the voice.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Erin. I need to talk to you.”

“Erin?” As in Houston’s secretary Erin? I didn’t know anyone else by that name.

“Yeah. From Twin Cities. I can’t talk now, but there’s some shady stuff going on here, and I think you should know about it.”

“What?” I pushed the phone harder against my ear, waiting.

“They’re in the conference room now. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, but I had to call you, give you a heads-up. Houston’s in there with—”

The phone went silent.

Who? Who is in the conference room? Why is she at the office on a Saturday night?

“Shit! They’re coming out now. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

Later? No. I needed to know now, or my whole evening would be ruined.

“Erin? Erin?” I frantically tried to make sure she was still there.

But she was gone.