Chapter 4 #2
"No,” I correct, “just a long day. I've been up since seven, which honestly should be a crime.
What's the point in working in an alternative job field if you can't pick your own hours? You know what I mean?” My smile grows, “Like crimes gonna be happenin’,” I say in an exaggerated Louisianan accent.
"I bet you they're happenin’ far less often at seven AM.”
He doesn't give me any space. "Why'd you do it?"
"Do what?" I ask, still playing innocent, because honestly, I am tired, and I hope that he'll just get annoyed with me not answering his questions and leave me the fuck alone. Didn't I tell him to do that already?
Why the hell is he in my face right now?
Also, since when did he get those flecks in his eyes? They're like gold. Gold flecks in a vampire's eyes.
Weird.
I thought they had red eyes.
"Are you even listenin’?”
I blink out of my pondering, “I’m sorry. What? Did you say something? It's my skill. I really do tune men out when they talk. Were you saying something?"
He grabs hold of my chin to make me face him as he slowly enunciates. "Why did you kill that man?"
"What man? Was there a man here? The only man I see is you,” blowing a kiss at him.
He sighs long and heavy. "Look, I don't care what the fuck you do, but when you do it so impulsively and with no actual plan, and it has nothin’ to do with serving what either family wants. You put us at risk, not only of exposure to this family, but also when people who are important start going missin’, they start asking questions.
Only takes you fuckin’ with the wrong person who has enough wealth and standin’, someone in a tax bracket that could cause concern, for you to blow our entire family's identity wide open. They're gonna start lookin’ into who did this and why. It’s not hard to find your association with Racquelle.
I know that since you're her very favorite pet or doll, or whatever the fuck you are to her, there's enough things tyin’ you two together. "
I understand what he’s saying, but he doesn’t know anything about what I’m doing or why.
It’s none of his business. At the risk of repeating myself yet again, I try a different tactic.
"You really should relax. Have you ever tried, like, a massage, or you know, a hot tub?
Those jets really relieve a lot of stress.
If I were you, I'd probably put them all the way high, the water temperature also all the way high.
You seem really high strung, and in my personal opinion, though I'm not a professional, I would think that that would really be taking a toll on your lifespan, and since you're kind of up there in age already, maybe it's a good idea for you to implement either one of those things.
Or you know what? I also hear that weed is really good for relieving stress.
You have somewhat of a connection to cannabis, and so, like, I would maybe try some of that too. You just seem very stressed."
He growls under his breath, hands coming up to touch me but thinks better of it. He backs away, finally giving me space now that he's properly frustrated. "You know, I'm tryin’ to look out for you."
"Look out for me? Why would you do that? That's even more weird.” I bite my lip, “Are you okay?"
"Am I..." He throws his hands up in the air. "You know what? Fine. But the two of us are gonna be workin’ together, and I don't wanna be dragged into your shit. So figure it out, and stick to what you've been told to do.”
“By you?” I tilt my head again, this time widening my eyes.
"What is that?" he asks.
"What's what?"
"What are you doing with your—” He gestures to my puppy dog eyes, “this?"
"I don't know. What am I doing?" I blink slowly.
"I'm not fallin’ for this act you have. I know you're not nearly as dumb as you try to make yourself seem. I know that you are a lot more aware than what you portray yourself to be. You'd have to be as Racquelle's most prized asset," he mocks.
"Oh, so you do recognize me? That's good to know. Well, if we're done here, I'd like to go and take a shower because, honestly, it's been a long day, as I said before."
"Whatever. Don't give a fuck. The next time I see you will be in Atlanta."
"Oh! Did you want to fly together? I haven't got my ticket yet."
"You haven't got your flight.”
I pout. “Well, no. We're in charge of, like, getting our own flights and stuff, and I usually go with someone who will do it already. Will you?"
"No, I'm not gonna buy your ticket. Why don't you buy it?”
“Like, you don't have to pay for it. I mean, I would assume you're not, like, struggling for money…” He’s ranked high enough in Dupont that surely his pockets show for it, right?
Hee gets into his car and slams the door.
"Okay, well, good talk. See you in Atlanta," I say after his car when he pulls off. I go back to my apartment, where I shower and change into pajamas, carefully applying anti-aging serums to make sure that no wrinkles set in.
I instantly feel better once I'm able to get clean and lay in my bed. I scroll on my socials and I check in on my favorite celebrity.
It looks like Lacey Bramble is getting married.
Oh my god.
The lingerie empire’s owner is tying the knot.
Now that’s important journalism.
I spend the next few moments looking into the wedding and all about her new partner. I can't say that I disapprove of him, but I can say that they will make beautiful babies. If she wants babies. I guess not everybody's cut out for it. I know I certainly won't be able to.
I'm not cut out for really anything but what I have now.