5. A Devious Plan
A DEVIOUS PLAN
Kayleigh
The Fig Leaf’s break room is barely a room at all—just a cinderblock corridor behind the retail floor, pungent with mulch and lemon Lysol, and lit by the watery square of a single skylight above.
The space is humid, everything sweating faintly: terra cotta pots, hunched bags of potting soil, metal utility sink.
The air here always smells alive, half dirt, half oxygen, and on slow days I like to wedge myself into the battered stool by the battered Formica table, nursing a mug of bad coffee and watching the plants try to colonize every flat surface.
Today’s coffee is cold, but I swirl it anyway, trying to ignore the layer of silt at the bottom. The sound of pop country trickles in from the front, but I can’t hear the lyrics, only the lazy bass and the drummer’s brushstrokes. My phone vibrates, shivering on the table.
Mary Kate Ashton is FaceTiming from the sun-drenched kitchen of the house she shares with her fiancé, the light so bright it turns her hair to spun gold.
She’s still in pajamas—white tank, powder blue joggers, feet bare and tucked up on the counter—but her makeup is flawless, lashes shellacked in black and lips sugared pink.
She looks like she just stepped out of a J.Crew ad for sleepover club, except she’s showing off a diamond ring the size of a macadamia nut.
“Tell me everything,” she says, grinning so wide I can count her teeth. “Was it actually as bad as you said in your text?”
“It was worse,” I say, putting my chin in my palm. “You missed the stripper, aka my stepbrother’s date. There were actual fake boobs. Like huge flotation devices that practically made the old ladies go into a faint.”
Mary Kate cackles, the sound bright and unguarded, and tilts her phone to the side. Her huge engagement ring flashes in the light, making my eyes water.
“So it’s real now?” I say. “You’re really going to marry Dr. Robinson?”
She does a little jazz hands with her left fingers.
“Engagement announcement drops next week. After Kent’s divorce from my mom is final, we’re doing a trip to Turks and Caicos.
And the honeymoon’s a full month—first class hotels all the way from Amsterdam to Istanbul.
” She sighs dramatically. “I have to get my passport updated, and like, all my shots. Plus the wedding’s probably going to be in the Maldives. ”
“Weren’t you guys just at war with each other?” I ask, squinting at the screen. “I swear last week you said you wanted to cut his balls off.”
Her lips twist into a smirk. “He never gave me a reason to, turns out. And anyway, the balls are kind of the point.” She lowers her voice. “Do you remember when I told you about his whole testicular-stone thing?”
“Obviously,” I say, laughing. “You said Kent needed you to massage his balls because of “testicular stones.” For medical reasons, of course.”
“Yeah, well.” She makes a face. “Turns out there were never any stones. It was a ruse. My stepdad just wanted my hands on his nuts every night.”
I nearly snort coffee up my nose. “That’s so on-brand for you two.”
Mary Kate’s eyes go dreamy for a second, then she laughs and bites the tip of her tongue. “Worked though. The sex is insane, girlfriend. Like, off the charts bumping and grinding. I literally had to ice my bottom because Kent’s that big.”
“Mary Kate!” I protest, but I’m laughing, red flooding my face even though I’m the only one here.
She points at me through the camera, smirking. “Like you’re so innocent, Kayleigh. Didn’t you used to make fun of me for reading smutty fanfic in the back row?”
“Fanfic is different than whatever you’re doing because your life is real,” I tease. “Besides, I’m still a virgin. Unlike literally everyone else in the world.”
My buddy looks genuinely shocked. “That can’t be true. Are you seriously a virgin? But what about our virginity bet?”
“Andie won already, remember?” I say, and she groans.
“Oh god. Right, right.” She flops backward, feet drumming on the cupboard. “But still, when it comes to you, Kay … I mean, you’re really still a virgin?”
“Yes,” I say in an arch tone. “But I think Stella is too, despite seeing multiple guys at once.”
“I know,” Mary Kate squeals. “She gets more action than a hockey team combined.” She leans in, lowering her voice. “Rumor is, she’s about to break up with both her current guys and start a triad with the hot substitute TA from Gender Studies.”
I shake my head. “She told me she was never dating a TA again after that one guy lost his mind.”
“She lied,” Mary Kate says, and we both dissolve into giggles for a second. I love how easy it is, talking to her—no filters, no performance, just rapid-fire confession with the brakes cut.
Eventually, she leans her chin on her hands and gets serious. “But seriously, Kay. So tell me about this wedding. Did your stepbrother actually bring a porn star to the wedding?”
“Oh god,” I say, and pick at the frayed edge of my cutoff shorts. “Yes, at least well it seemed like it. And she looked exactly like that Cassie from Euphoria, only with even bigger tits and maybe less self-control.”
Mary Kate whistles. “Wow, wild. I mean, that character is something.”
“Yeah,” I say, half-joking. “And get this: my stepbro’s date was also named Cassie! She definitely had the boobs for it. And the dress was basically shrink-wrapped to her body. My mom almost passed out.”
Mary Kate’s eyebrows arch. “Your mom should be happy. At least Trevor’s dating age-appropriate for once. Weren’t his last two girlfriends teenage influencers?”
I shrug. “If you call being a paid ‘ambassador’ for Shein a career, then yes.”
She laughs again, then her face softens. “I still don’t get why you think you can’t compete. You’re way hotter than some Euphoria knock off. And you actually have a brain.”
I roll my eyes, but secretly, I love hearing it. My hands curl tighter around the coffee mug.
“It’s not about the looks,” I say, “it’s about… I don’t know. Experience. Or confidence. Or just not being totally invisible.”
MK gives me a side-eye. “Kayleigh, you were dating three hot guys last year, and they all wrote poems about you. You were like a real Juliet from Romeo and Juliet.”
“I only made out with two,” I mutter, cheeks going pink. “And both were too drunk to remember.”
Mary Kate gives a little huff. “Still, that’s something. Besides, it’s not like you want to sleep with anyone but Trevor, anyway.”
I nearly drop the mug. The words hang in the air, hot and dangerous, and I have no idea how to answer. For a long moment, neither of us says anything.
Mary Kate squints at the screen. “So I’m right, right? You want to hook up with your older stepbrother.”
My face is on fire. I set the mug down, forcing my voice low. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I mean, I saw them. Him and Cassie. In a side room, at the reception. They were—” I search for the word that doesn’t sound insane, but there isn’t one. “They were fucking against a wall.”
Mary Kate’s mouth drops open. “Really? And you watched?”
“Not on purpose,” I whisper. “I was trying to hide. But then I heard them, and there was this little gap in the door and…” I trail off.
She covers her mouth, eyes wide, then leans in even closer, as if we’re sharing a secret from a thousand miles away. “Was it super hot and dirty?”
I nod, silent.
“Absolutely filthy. He was fucking her like a rag-doll, and she was loving it.”
Mary Kate stares at me, then tips her head back and howls. “Oh my god, you little perv! Was his dick huge? I mean, sometimes hot guys have small penises. Not Kent, of course. My fiancé is hung like a horse.”
I can’t help it. I laugh, but it comes out strangled. “Yes, Trevor’s packing and I mean, huge XL sized. His dick’s like a goddamn beer bottle. I didn’t even think that was possible.”
“Holy shit,” MK says, eyes gleaming. “No wonder you’re obsessed.”
“I’m not obsessed,” I protest, but even I can hear how pathetic it sounds. “He’s just… unattainable, you know? Like wanting to fuck Superman. Or, like, a male model or Henry Cavill.”
She smirks. “Henry Cavill is Superman, but I hear you, girl. You have issues.”
“Big ones,” I agree.
We both sit with it for a moment. Then Mary Kate clears her throat and goes back to the earlier track. “So you’re still a virgin …”
“Yes,” I say slowly, eyeing her. “What are you getting at?”
Mary Kate gives a wicked grin. “Well, Stella’s actually floating a new bet since Andie already won. But it’s gross. Something about who can take two guys at once first. Or, like, two dicks in the same—”
I interrupt her with a squeal. “Oh my god. Double penetration? OMG, OMG.”
She shrugs. “Don’t ask me, I’m not the one dating two guys at once because that’s Stella’s jam. Anyway, you don’t have to do any of that. Just get your cherry popped and you’re off the hook.”
I consider it, then shake my head. “I’m not even ready for regular one-guy sex. At the wedding, I almost passed out just watching.”
Mary Kate leans forward, eyes twinkling. “You know what you need to do, right? Just get Trevor to do it. Pop your cherry. Then, like, do all the other stuff with him too. Anal. Double anal. Double vaginal. Home run sweep.”
My mouth goes dry. I stare at her, and she stares back, and we both know it’s not a joke.
She softens her voice. “Is that what you want?”
I put the mug down, hands shaking a little. “Yes,” I say, barely above a whisper. “But I don’t think Trevor wants me.”
Mary Kate makes a dramatic snort. “Are you blind? This guy wants you, Kay.”
I shake my head. “How do you know?”
“I just know,” she says in a queenly voice. “You’re gorgeous Kay, and no guy wants a porn star when he get can get a hot, filthy princess. You know, a lady in the streets, but a freak in the sheets.”
I shoot her a wry look.
“You don’t know Trevor. I don’t think he wants a lady at all. I mean, he brought a total slut to a family event. He wants someone who’s publicly a tramp, and doesn’t care about optics. If she dresses like a ho, then all the better.”
“Well,” MK says, her voice edged with certainty. “You’ve got it. I can feel it, Kay. He’s just waiting for you to make the first move.”
I snort. “What am I supposed to do, send him nudes? Invite him to a sleepover?”
Mary Kate’s eyes get devilish. “Why not? Or better—go to that bachelor auction thing you were texting me about, and bid on him. Take him on a date, get him liquored up, and see what happens.”
I blink. I have to admit that this is what I’ve been plotting all along. “You think?”
“I know,” MK says in a queenly voice. “And if you win, I want every detail. Especially his size. I want photos and video. You know the virginity bet’s not over until it’s over,” she says, paraphrasing a Lenny Kravitz song.
We both crack up. I promise to think more on the bachelor auction, and she swears to send me photos of her wedding dress, and her ring, and even the first ultrasound if she gets knocked up early.
For a moment, I almost feel normal. Not the awkward stepsister, not the perpetual runner-up, but a girl with, just maybe, a chance.
Suddenly, a deep voice in the background calls Mary Kate’s name. She scrambles off the counter, nearly dropping the phone. “Kent’s home from the gym,” she stage-whispers. “Wish me luck. He’s insatiable after dropping sets.”
“Go get him,” I say, laughing.
She flashes one last grin, and the call ends with a cheery snap. I’m alone in the humid silence, the coffee gone to sludge and the room smelling like hope and wet leaves.
I tuck my phone into my apron, stand, and start straightening the rows of baby succulents on the metal shelf, fingers brushing the soft, rubbery leaves.
Outside, the sky is the color of fresh cream, and I can just see the tips of the city’s tallest towers over the flat roof of the strip mall next door.
Somewhere, in one of those towers, Trevor’s probably sitting behind a glass wall, making six figures an hour and forgetting I exist.
But for the first time in my life, maybe I can change that.
I stare at the row of perfect, tiny plants, arranged like a miniature city, and decide: I am going to win my stepbrother at the auction. I am going to make him notice me, even if I have to break every rule in the book.
Even if it means breaking myself a little, too.
The sky brightens through the window, and the plants reach for it, greedy and shameless. I let myself do the same... thinking of Trevor Cahill the entire time.