Chapter 4
FOUR
VORTEX
The first thing I notice when I spot Connie in the casino lobby is the garish handbag she’s carrying. I’m sure I’d have noticed something like that before, so it must be new.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to it.
Connie beams and angles the bag to show it off. “You like it? It’s from my new startup business.”
Startup business.
I remember her telling me about some great new business opportunity, but I hadn’t thought it involved ugly handbags. I’m apparently funding this, like I’ve funded so many other failed opportunities — something I have to try hard not to think about too much.
At least Connie looks healthy. She’s pulled her bleached blond hair into a braid and she’s wearing bright make-up. Her large, dangling earrings match the garish handbag.
“Yeah? What happened to the last one? Those… vitamins or whatever?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that question.
“Oh, that. I wasn’t vibing with them.” Connie makes a dismissive gesture. “The diamond level babes were cramping my style, and everybody ’s selling vitamins these days.” She pauses. “But if you need some, I still have back stock. It’s only a hundred bucks for a whole box.”
I stare at her, jaw agape. I have no idea what she’s talking about, for one. Then there’s the fact that she’s trying to sell me back stock for a hundred dollars. Then there’s the part where she’s on to a new business venture, one that will probably result in even more unused products. “Connie…”
She must see the look in my eyes, because she hurries to say, “I can probably give you a discount, though. On account of you being family.”
I shake my head. “That’s not… Come on. Let’s go eat,” I tell her before I give in to the urge to wring her neck.
“Yeah, I’m starving,” she says, linking her arms with mine. “Thanks for treating me, Sebby.”
I grimace. “Please don’t call me that in public,” I tell her. “Or at all. Ever.”
If Seven ever heard her call me that, I’d never hear the end of it.
I feel a pang. I half-wish I’d invited him to this dinner, but things with my sister are always complicated. I don’t know how to explain her to him, and I definitely don’t know how to explain him to her.
We end up at the Mexican restaurant, mostly because I know Havoc would never set foot in here. The food is decent though, if not authentic.
After we’re seated — and after I look again at the hideous purse she’s carrying — I clear my throat. “So. Purses, huh?”
I know I’m going to regret asking, but maybe I’m as much of a masochist as Seven is.
Connie smiles. “Yeah! Everybody needs a purse, right? Handbags are both functional and they’re an identity. They tell people who you are!” She sets the bag on the table and opens it up. “Okay, see, this one has three separate compartments, and a cellphone holder, and a place for keys. All in a stylish package. Who wouldn’t want one of these handbags? ”
All I can see is the plastic gleam of the material and the missed seam on one side.
That, and the clashing, garish colors.
“Are these your own design?” I ask cautiously.
Connie giggles. “No, silly. These are from the TerMa line. TerMa makes handbags out of 100% vegan leather, with ethically sourced materials.”
“Isn’t vegan leather just plastic?” I ask.
She looks at me like I’m stupid. “Um, I think I’d know if my handbag were plastic. Anyway, the point is. This is the next big thing. My TerMom—she’s mentoring me—is setting me up with stock for the business. I already got last season’s line, but…”
TerMom .
Last season.
“Connie, please don’t tell me—” I start with dread.
“I need a loan so I can buy the current line,” she finishes, smiling brightly at me.
“A loan,” I repeat, like I couldn’t possibly have heard her correctly. I don’t even know how much money I’ve loaned her that she’ll never be able to pay back as she flits from one get-rich scheme to another. “Connie,” I begin as gently as I can manage, “Do you think that maybe it’s time to try… another line of work? One that doesn’t require loans?”
Her smile drops a bit. “Sebastian, come on. This’ll be way faster. I’ll pay you back in like, a month. Each handbag retails for about two hundred bucks. I only need to sell twenty of them and I’ll be raking in profits hand over fist.”
“Connie…” I begin, only to stop. The likelihood of her selling twenty of those purses for two hundred dollars each isn’t likely at all. Telling her that will upset her, of course, and I didn’t agree to dinner to destroy her dreams. “I can get you a job at the casino,” I offer. “Ca— Mr. Spade is always hiring, and I think you could do a good job here. It might take longer, but it would be a steady paycheck.”
She scoffs at me. “Uh-huh. And then I’d be a wage slave to a guy who takes advantage of gambling addicts. I have more dignity than that. I’d much rather be my own boss.”
A wage slave. There’s another one I don’t have words for.
“I get that you want to be your own boss,” I say, trying for empathy, “but it would just be… on the side. Until your business kicks off.”
Connie shakes her head and gives me her usual mulish expression. “Sebby, I’ve got an opportunity right now! Gina—my TerMom—is going to cut me an amazing deal on the product, but I know those bags are going fast. I have to be on top of the trends, and not be peddling last season’s—or worse, last year’s— designs.”
If I was a praying man, I’d be praying for patience.
I sure as hell need it when dealing with my little sister.
“Okay, but let’s think about the casino idea,” I tell her. “You can get a job part time, then when your business really takes off, you can quit.” Caleb would not thank me for trying to pawn my sister off on him, but surely he owes me a favor or two by now.
Connie rolls her eyes at me. “What job would I get? Cleaning staff? No thanks. And I’d have to deal with all the drunks and the addicts who sit there for two days straight without showering.” She makes a gagging sound to accentuate her disgust.
“It’s not that bad,” I say. “Or you can work in one of the restaurants! You can be a waitress, or a bartender even. Please, Connie.”
But I can see the stubborn way she’s looking at me, the way her jaw is set and her eyes are defiant. She’s not going to let this go, and the only way I’ll hear the end of this is if I shell out the cash.
Maybe this time she’ll actually be successful, but I doubt it.
It feels shitty, to not have faith in my own sister, but she’s gone from one scheme to the next, always hoping this will be “the one.”
It never is.
“Anyway,” Connie adds, “Rent is due tomorrow, and I’m a bit short.”
No wonder she wanted to have dinner with me.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow that she mostly wants money from me, but I should know better by now .
“I mean, I’ll figure it out if you aren’t helping. I’ll probably have to live off of cup noodles and whatever the nearby coffee shop hands out at the end of the day.” Connie pushes her food around on her plate. “You know, a homeless guy tried to fight me for a croissant once?”
“You have never been hungry enough to fight a homeless guy for a croissant,” I say, positive of that much. “Connie, how much are you asking me for? First the purses, now rent…”
“It’s not that much. You’ll barely notice,” Connie says. “Just three grand. And I’ll pay back every penny once I’ve got my business established.”
Is this how Caleb feels, watching Seven gamble away his money? Sure, I have it; I’m set for life, if I’m honest. But it feels like I’m doing her a disservice by continuing to give her money almost every month.
“I’m not asking you to pay me back, Connie. I’m asking you to make good decisions,” I tell her even though I know she’s going to ignore that.
She smiles at me. “You’re the best, Sebby! I love you!”
I sigh. “You too.” We go back to eating, and she chatters about how well she’s sure this is going to go. We’re about to wrap up — and I’m about to get my phone out to send the money to Connie — when I see Seven’s familiar form out of the corner of my eye.
What the hell is he doing here?
My eyes narrow as I watch him, but he smiles brightly at me.
“Oh, hey,” he says innocently, coming to slide over into the seat next to me. I let him, even allowing him to push me over so he has more room. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
I roll my eyes. “Next you’ll tell me you have a bridge to sell me,” I tell him dryly.
He looks blank. “What?”
“Nothing,” I tell him. “It’s a saying for people who…”
For people who try to defraud others out of their money.
Connie clears her throat, looking pointedly between us. “Who’s this?” she prompts .
I find myself sighing again. “Connie, this is Seven. Seven, this is Connie.”
Connie gives Seven a once over. “I didn’t realize teenagers were allowed into the casino, Sebby. You used to tell me I couldn’t come in because I was underage!”
I cringe. “Connie, Seven is my boyfriend,” I tell her, already bracing myself for her reaction. “Seven, Connie is my sister.”
Seven’s eyes narrow, and he stares at her with such obvious dislike that it catches me off guard.
“Your boyfriend?” Connie repeats. “Since when do you date? You always said you didn’t have time for anything other than hookup apps.”
“I never told you I used hookup apps!” I tell her, my cheeks flushing red.
“He doesn’t have to,” Seven says, only to mutter under his breath, “Unlike you.”
Connie completely ignores the comment, the way she usually ignores things she doesn’t like. “I mean, I’m not judging, Sebby! I just thought you’d be more into guys your own age.”
She’s absolutely judging, and I find that I resent her for it.
This has to be revenge for all of her boyfriends that I’ve scared off.
“Yeah, well. Surprise,” I tell her, sliding an arm around Seven.
He presses against me, not quite looking smug, but not looking far from it, either.
“So what high school do you go to, sweetie?” Connie asks Seven. “Maybe I graduated from the same one.”
“I am not a sexual predator, Connie,” I say through gritted teeth. “He’s twenty-one.”
Probably. He’s at least eighteen, we’re sure of that much. How much older, we don’t know, but for the sake of this argument and Seven’s continued presence in the hotel, he’s legal.
Connie gives me a look. “You remember when you caught me with the fake ID? ”
“He doesn’t have a fake ID,” I tell her, starting to get impatient.
He hadn’t had an ID at all, but that’s also besides the point and not ammunition I’m going to give her.
“I’m old enough to be in here legally,” Seven says, also sounding irritated. “And I’m old enough to be dating your brother.”
“Of course, of course. Like I said, I don’t care. I only worry for my brother. I don’t want him to land in jail because of a misunderstanding!” Connie turns her attention to me. “I guess now I know why you were too busy to take my calls lately.”
“Connie, can we have this discussion later?” I ask, squeezing Seven like he’s my emotional support. “We’re almost done eating. Do you want dessert? Seven? They have great churros here.”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose. But you’ll send me the thirty-five hundred?” Connie gives me a dazzling smile.
“You said three k,” I tell her, scowling back at her.
“No, I’m pretty sure I said thirty-five hundred.” Connie meets my gaze, and I know how this will play out. She’s not leaving without her money, and she won’t hesitate to pull out the big guns in front of Seven.
“All right,” I tell her, pulling out my phone so I can get to my bank app. “But Connie… This is it. Okay? After this, we talk about the casino job?”
Seven looks between the two of us, brows slightly raised, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“There’s nothing to talk about! My business will be booming.” Connie gets up and kisses my cheek. “Thank you, Sebby. I love you!”
I get up so I can hug her. “Yeah, you too,” I say. “Good luck, Connie.”
“You too?” Seven repeats after she walks away.
I give him a look. “What?”
“You don’t say, ‘I love you too’ or whatever?” he asks.
My cheeks heat up again. “She knows what I mean.”
“You sure you’re not just too manly to tell her you love her?” Seven needles me .
“It has nothing to do with being manly,” I reply. “Now what are you doing down here?”
“I got bored,” Seven says.
“How did you even find me?” I ask, then shake my head. “Never mind. Did you want dessert?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t wanna get fat.”
Blinking at him, I try to think about the last time I’d seen him eat dessert. It’s not something we talk about often, but I don’t think he’s ever asked for it. “You’re not going to get fat off a couple churros,” I say.
“Nah. Let’s go upstairs. You can tell me more about your sister.”
I wince, then get up. “No, that’s okay. I’ve talked enough about my sister for one day.”
“You haven’t talked much about her at all, actually,” Seven points out, getting up as well.
“I know,” I tell him, my voice sharper than I’d intended it to be.
Seven flinches, and he falls silent. “You don’t have to talk about her,” he says quietly.
On one hand, I know that if I ever want him to tell me about himself or his family, I need to share as well. But on the other hand… He wouldn’t understand.
“I think I told you she’s ten years younger than I am,” I say. “I’ve been taking care of her for a long time. She’s…” I try to figure out how to describe Connie to someone who doesn’t know her.
As much as I love her, she’s becoming a constant source of exasperation.
“Not very nice,” Seven mutters.
I stop in my tracks. It’s not that he’s wrong, but she’s still my little sister. “She didn’t mean anything by it,” I say defensively.
He opens his mouth, but I give him a warning look. His expression is sullen, but he doesn’t comment.
I rub my eyes. “She has a lot going on right now,” I tell Seven once we’re inside the elevator.
“So do you,” he tells me .
I ruffle his hair. “I’m not.” But she is. The latest request for money is getting to me, and her refusal to try something different is rubbing me the wrong way. I pause, then I carefully tell Seven, “We need to get you an ID.”
He looks apprehensively at me. “I don’t have any of the stuff you need for one of those.”
“I know,” I say. “But we can get you one anyway. We need your—” I see the way his eyes widen, the way fear starts to curl around him, and I amend, “a name. Any name you want. And you can choose your own birthday, too. We can make a whole event out of it. What do you think?”
“You’re just worried someone will think I’m jailbait for real,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t sound angry.
“No,” I tell him, leading him out of the elevator when it reaches the top floor. Well, maybe it’s partially that, but it would be easier on him all around. “Sometimes, someone is going to want to make sure you’re actually twenty-one.” I have to give it to Seven; he doesn’t bat an eye or even twitch. He might be lying about his age, but he’s good at that lie, at least.
I wonder what other things he’s good at lying about.
“Besides, wouldn’t it be nice to have another name someone can call you?” I say, shaking off my thoughts.
He shrugs, and I can see that I’ve lost him for the moment. Fuck.
I sigh. “Well, let’s talk to Caleb about it anyway. All right? I’m sure it’s on his to-do list already.”
“I’ll think about it,” Seven says vaguely.
In other words, it’s probably never going to happen. I resist the urge to sigh again — I’ve been doing a lot of sighing this evening between my sister and Seven — and open the door to Caleb’s penthouse.
I’m surprised to see Caleb sitting on the couch, eating ramen out of an instant cup and watching an anime. He also has a laptop open on the coffee table, and he keeps stopping to type something. The two cats are curled up at his side, with Nacho half on Caleb and half on Miss K.
It’s weird to think that Miss K had been hissing at Nacho and chasing him off not that long ago.
I don’t know much about cats, but they seem to be settling pretty well.
Seven passes me and goes to the couch to sit on the other side of Nacho, cooing over the orange tabby. I don’t know how something so small can have a purr so loud, but it makes me grin despite the stress of the evening.
“Hey,” I tell Caleb. “Found Seven wandering around.”
Seven rolls his eyes at me. “You didn’t find me. I came to find you. And it’s a good thing I did!”
“I was having dinner with my sister. I didn’t need rescuing,” I tell him.
Caleb makes a derisive sound. “Which MLM has its claws in her this time?”
Before I can answer, Seven asks, “What’s an MLM?”
“It’s… a kind of business,” I hedge. I know they’re scams 99% of the time, but I don’t really want to tell Seven that my sister is doing that .
“A multi-level marketing scheme, where you find some schmuck to sell terrible products to, and they have to sell it to the next schmuck and convince that person they want to peddle this trash, who then has to find a new schmuck, and on and on.” Caleb looks at Seven. “You’d make more money gambling, because theoretically you can win at the games. MLMs exist only to separate a fool from his money.”
My cheeks are burning by the time Caleb finishes explaining it to Seven. I know my sister is acting like an idiot, but to hear him tear down people like her who are only trying to make a living… “She’s not a fool,” I snap. “And gambling never works out for anyone.”
But I can’t face this. I can’t think about this.
“I’m going home,” I tell them. “Have a good night. Try to talk to Seven about an ID or whatever.” I turn on my heel, heading for the door.
“You need to cut her off,” Caleb says.
I ignore him and shut the door.
I know he’s right. But she’s my sister.
She’s the only family I have left.