Chapter 2
TWO
Alex
I wish you’d stay.
That’s all she wrote on the zeroed-out check. I wish you’d stay.
I’m running again, aren’t I? The ultimate escape? Fuck.
“Is there somewhere we could walk to?” I ask as she wraps her arms around herself, smirking at my question.
“Not anywhere worth going.” Fair enough. “Um, I can drive,” she volunteers.
I nod graciously. “Alright then.”
Leading me to a late model Honda Civic, she sheepishly unlocks the car for both of us.
She pushes back a piece of golden blonde hair that’s fallen out of her bun, securing it with a bobby pin, then starts the car. It’s clean inside. A fresh green tree hanging from the rearview mirror. No real trash except a McDonald’s coffee cup left in the center cup holder.
“So…” She laughs awkwardly. I don’t feel awkward, though.
Probably should. But I don’t. I just made peace with being…
gone. Relief feels imminent. And all of this feels like it could be a final good deed.
Even the score, instead of going out like a selfish prick by letting some waitress pay for my last meal.
“You sure you don’t need to get home?” I ask again, making sure.
She laughs, not awkwardly this time. “God, I should probably lie and tell you I have three brothers, all Navy Seals, waiting for me, but, well, I don’t know.
” She looks at me from the corner of her eye.
“It feels pointless to try and lie to you. So no, there’s no one at home.
Not even a cat.” Jesus. Whisper quiet, she says, “There’s barely even a home. ” My chest pinches tight.
“Hmm,” I sort of hum.
“Wh-what about you? Is anybody waiting for you?” ‘Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t come see me.’
I roll my head back and forth against the headrest, eventually landing on, “No one.”
“Yeah,” is all she says back. A deep understanding in her tone.
We drive silently for the next 15 minutes. Well, mostly silently. Her radio is tuned to Christmas music, and occasionally, she absentmindedly sings along with the carols, not realizing it, I’m sure.
Eventually, we pull into another strip mall, and she parks near a coffee shop that’s just opening.
It’s a small place with only two tables and two sofas in the back. Two exits, three windows.
At the counter, I motion to let her order first.
“Can I please have a Snickers latte with extra caramel sauce and an almond croissant?” She smiles at the barista, offering her name when asked, then looks to me.
“I’ll have the same to drink and an old-fashioned donut.” She glances at me, maybe with surprise. Life is short, right?
I hand over a hundred-dollar bill to pay, but the barista stops me.
“Yeah, we don’t take bills that large.” I whip out my card, dropping the hundred in the tip jar instead. “Oh, I mean…” The barista stutters.
I hold my card to the contactless reader and just say, “Merry Christmas.”
Emma blushes, holds her purse to her a little bit tighter, and shuffles sideways while we wait for the drinks.
I find myself absently staring at her while we do. Honestly, I hadn’t given her even a second glance inside the restaurant.
She’s taller than her, with golden blonde hair and fair skin. She’s pretty. Definitely seems like Blanks’ type. Sweet, too. Genuinely sweet. If she’d been at that club tonight…
“Emma,” the barista calls out, sliding two to-go coffee cups on the bar and two small bags. Bypassing our order’s namesake, I grab all the items and lead her to a table. Sliding a chair out with my foot, I motion for her to take the seat.
“Well, this is nice for a change,” she says, watching me set her latte in front of her, then place a pastry bag beside her cup.
Settling in, the ease I feel in her presence surprises me.
“How long have you worked at…the diner?” I don’t even know the name of the fucking place.
“Three years. How long have you been in Vegas?”
I glance at the vintage Patek Philippe watch wrapped around my wrist. “16 hours. Vegas native?”
Maybe I’ll leave the watch in her car. As a parting gift. That would be a hell of a lot better than the $500 I’d offered her earlier.
“Mostly…yeah,” she answers. “Where do you call home?”
It’s tit for tat, she’s not interested in monologuing.
It would be refreshing if I didn’t abhor talking about myself.
But how to answer this? I have the house in Spearhead, but I don’t want to think about the specifics of that right now.
I also have Georgia’s house, but I don’t really spend time in any one place.
“I travel a lot, but uh, central California is mostly home.”
“Like Bakersfield?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No, I have a lake house.”
Lightning fast, I clock her, checking my ring finger.
Putting together some story in her mind.
Instead of waiting for her to ask, unprompted, I supply, “Not married. Though I was once, but she, uh, died in a car accident with our daughter. Long time ago. More recently, I was engaged, but…it didn’t work out. ”
Emma slowly lowers the coffee cup away from her lips.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” I assume she means Amy and Tally.
“Me, too.” I’m so fucking sorry. I have to look away, deflecting by sipping on my coffee.
This time, she offers up information without prompting.
“Well, it’s just me. No boyfriend, no husband, present, or ex.
My family is dead…at least to me. And I have one friend, who I’m not quite sure would even call me a friend.
” I nod, and surprisingly, she continues.
“My stepdad was an adrenaline junkie, and my mom is just a junkie. They were both more concerned about where or how they’d get their next fix than they ever were about their kids.
” Christ. “I’ve bounced around since then and ended up, I guess… stuck.”
There’s clearly more to the story, but it seems pointless to push. Instead, I make a trade. “I grew up mostly with my dad. He was a mean drunk who couldn’t hold a job, an addict that wound up in prison.” I sigh, “I vowed I’d never end up like him.”
“A-and you think you have?” There she goes again, coming up with a story.
“No. Never,” my voice is stern. Emma looks stung for a moment, so I soften my tone, “But he broke me, and I’ve never really been able to put myself back together again. I don’t know that I can…”
She gives me a sympathetic smile before saying, “I know exactly what you mean, Alexander.”
I know she knows. She didn’t need to tell me her story before I knew it. “You probably think I’m crazy…”
She immediately starts shaking her head. “No, no. I really don’t.” She doesn’t…yet.
Setting my cup on the table, I wring out my hands. “I’m gonna make you an offer, Emma.”
She straightens in her seat. “Um, what kind of offer?”
“The mutually beneficial kind.”
Emma
The mutually beneficial kind.
“He what???” Roni screeches into the phone.
“Yeah…” I trail off, placing the phone on speaker and dropping it on the bed so I can fold clothes while we chat. I can hear the faintest sound of “Twist and Shout” playing in the background at the diner.
“So what does this mean???” She’s still screeching. I had no clue Roni’s voice even went that high.
“It means I’m getting married…today.” Married.
“Okay, but don’t you get like rich, human-slave-trade vibes from this guy?” Oddly, no.
“I should, but I don’t. Honestly, it sort of feels like he’s someone I’ve known for a long time.” The sigh and invisible eye roll are palpable through the phone.
“Are you just trying to convince yourself this is a good idea? I mean, Emma, come on…” I can’t tell if she’s really looking out for me, like a friend? Or if maybe, she’s a little jealous?
“Good idea or not, I-I’m doing it.” It’s pointless trying to explain this situation to her.
I guess the bonus of not having anyone who truly cares about you in your life is that there aren’t any judgmental or harsh opinions to worry about.
Just your own. And if — more likely when — this all goes to shit, I will absolutely be my own harshest critic about it. No one else needed.
“Wow. So when are you gonna quit? Dina’s gonna flip her shit.” I want to wince about leaving them hanging out to dry the week before Christmas, but again, I’m a decent person, not the best person. And I can’t bring myself to give a fuck about it.
“Sorry about that.” Roni scoffs at my lackluster response. “Listen, I wanna give you something before I leave. Can you come by when you get off?”
“Uh, sure,” she says, sounding anything but.
“K, I’ll see you around noon.” I can barely finish before she hangs up. If she doesn’t come, that’s fine. If she does, I plan on giving her a chunk of the money Alexander left with me.
When I dropped him off at his hotel after coffee, he asked me to wait. When he came back, he was carrying two stacks of cash. Just two stacks of hundreds, like it was five dollars. Chump change.
“For anything you might need…for the wedding,” was all he said. What could I possibly need that would take that much money?
As impossible as it felt to accept, I did because that was his show of good faith. That he would hold up his end of the bargain if I did, too.
His requirements for the marriage were fairly simple: Live with him. Show up at family functions and work events with him. And I would go back to school.
My requirement was that he pay me. Not that I made that demand, but he insisted.
Fairly Simple. Clean cut, right? I hope.
Yawning, I take another sip of my overly sweet, now cold latte and make a quick mental to-do list:
Pack.
Find a wedding dress. (Not a real one. I’m not insane, but a simple white dress. Maybe even pale pink?)
Make a deposit at the bank.
Cat nap. (Hopefully.)
Give Roni her farewell gift.
Meet Alexander to obtain the marriage license.
Get married.