16 | Taylor
Taylor
Ever since Melina gave me her lingerie, I can’t help but imagine what’s underneath those pesky clothes.
I wonder if I asked nicely, she’d make me an omelet wearing nothing but the gift she gave me and a microscopic apron.
Friends do each other favors, right? I stab my fork on an empty plate.
At some point in my fantasy, I must’ve eaten all the omelet. She’s beaten me at my own game.
“Taylor, holy shit, you’re never going to believe this.”
Melina’s accomplice storms into the kitchen. His presence doesn’t surprise me. Where else would he be if not in my kitchen?
“Oh, Melina’s still here,” Tom says. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He wiggles his eyebrows between us.
“What do you want, Tom?”
“Giana got arrested. Public intoxication. The mugshot is all over Twitter.”
“Giana,” I sound out slowly. That sounds like a name I’m supposed to know.
“Jesus Christ, Taylor, the girl you’re taking to the fundraiser. Have you not even talked to her yet?”
Oh yeah. “I thought if I called her too early, she would want to meet me beforehand.” I hate dates, and I’m not going on two of them.
“You were going to take someone you hadn’t met? The party is this weekend! What if she had plans!”
“I would tell her to cancel them.”
A tiny snicker is heard from the woman washing my dishes. Tom looks at me, then at Melina, then back at me. I know exactly what he’s thinking.
“No,” I respond before he asks.
“I just thought you’d want to take the girl who asked me to leave her underwear on your desk.”
Melina pivots to point at Tom with a soapy knife. “You looked in the package. I told you not to do that.”
It’s nice to know that at least one thing in her little plan failed. A box he was told not to open? He probably looked inside the second he received it. I could’ve told her that wouldn’t have worked.
“I had to!” my brother argues. “What if you were some secret crazy stalker and the package had rice or something in it!”
Melina squints.
“He means ricin,” I translate.
“Do I look like a terrorist?” she asks while waving a large knife in the air. “Opening up other people’s mail is a felony.”
Tom ignores her. “Taylor, I’m still going to Vegas, and this thing isn’t the setting for a blind date. You have a perfectly beautiful and distracting woman in your kitchen, you seem to not hate. This sounds like a no-brainer to me.”
“Uh, thank you, Thomas,” Melina mumbles.
She’s disgustingly cute.
“Problem solved then,” Tom declares with his arms wide. “God, it’s exhausting being the smart one in the family.”
“Problem not solved,” I say, almost laughing. “I don’t want Melina being the solution to your mess.”
“Um, excuse me,” she interrupts. “I don’t mean to intrude on the family conversation, but have you thought about asking for my input on this?”
Maybe bickering in front of her wasn’t a good idea.
Tom claps his hands together. “You’re right, Melina, are you going to let Prince Charmless take you to the ball?”
She kisses her teeth. “I don’t know.”
Great. “Helpful input, Melina.”
She raises her shoulders. “I handled myself through the drama the first time. Most of the comments weren’t even negative. What would be different about this?”
“People would know your face. Don’t take your anonymity for granted, you have no idea how much I envy it.”
I don’t think I meant to voice that last part out loud. It’s been a weird morning.
Melina opens her mouth to say something, but Tom cuts her off.
“Hugo Foust will be there. Taylor’s favorite forward.”
“Like in a kilt and everything?” she asks.
That seemed to pique her interest.
“Yeah, he’s a big donor. He goes every year, right?”
“I mean, yes,” I admit. “But don’t do this just to see some footballer’s calves. The PM’s son will also be there and he’s very ugly and an ass.”
She hums. “I’m probably not good enough to be your arm candy.”
God, is that what she thinks I’m suggesting? “Melina, I hope you know that’s not what I meant.” If anything, it’s the other way around. The girl’s a bombshell. Next to her, I’ll look like Slenderman.
“No, that’s a bonus,” she says. “I’m just a humble web dev. Doesn’t everyone love a good Cinderella story? It’ll add to the distraction.”
What is she thinking?
“If you’re serving alcohol, I’ll do it for five hundred bucks.”
Tom snorts at her pathetic offer, and I, well, I do nothing. I’m in pure shock.
“Too low or too high? Oh, and I don’t have a fairy godmother or any sentient rats, so you’d have to pay for the dress too.”
Is she serious? “I don’t get you, Melina. You’re selling the press your soul for five hundred dollars? No. I’m not allowing it.”
“Yet you were going to take the Giana girl for nothing? What’s different about me?”
“Because you’re,” I gesture her up and down, trying to search for the word, “you’re Melina! You’re you!”
“I’m your friend?” she offers with a smile.
“Yes.” I snap my fingers. “That. And the Giana girl is already famous. You’re no one.”
She looks offended.
“You know what I mean. No one in terms of celebrity. And I thought being moralistic was your whole thing. Now, suddenly you’re willing to do things for money?”
“This business deal I’m starting. It’s honestly a win-win. I get free drinks, five hundred dollars, and a chance to see the hottest man in the world. I’m trying to be more spontaneous in life anyway.”
“It’s a win-win-win,” my brother adds pointlessly.
Why is he still here?
“Exactly,” she says. “What’s the worst people could say about me? I don’t have any skeletons in my closet. The news cycle goes so fast, I bet people will forget all about me in a couple of days. It happened the last time.”
“Do you think we can fork it?” Tom asks me like an orphaned child.
I look at Melina and picture her next to me in a fancy dress. I’ve told her about the consequences, right? She’s a grown and educated woman. And one that I like talking to more than most.
I picture the dress being tight and low-cut.
“If you’re sure, I’m sure.”
She shrugs. “What are friends for?”