Chapter 4 #2
“Is that why you aren’t texting me back now?” he asked bluntly. “I was teasing. Don’t tell me that you cannot take a joke… seriously – it was a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny – and I broke my phone,” she grumbled and put down a bag in order to dig out her keys, only to have him pick up the bag. She immediately reached over, took the bag from his hands, and put it back on the ground.
He picked it back up.
“Quit touching my stuff,” she hissed at him, shoving the key in the door, turning, and removing the bag from his hands again.
“Things I’ll never say on our wedding night for one thousand,” he immediately drawled, giving her a weird, lopsided smile that grated on her nerves.
“There’s not gonna be a wedding night,” she shot back, reaching for the key and turning it as he leaned forward, grasping the handle, and opened it for her politely. “Go away.”
“No.”
“Please?” she shot back, trying to close the front door, but he was pushing his way inside. “Please go away – pretty please with sugar on top – get lost immediately, Douche Wanker.”
“Don’t call me that,” he frowned – and followed her in anyhow.
“Fine. Dorky Weirdo,” she shrugged, before walking off and hoping he’d get the hint. “Dramatic Whiner…”
“My name is Drake.”
“Your name is whatever I choose to call you.”
“Why are you being like this?” he asked tersely, staring at her as he crossed his arms over his chest… and then slowly looked around. “Where’s your furniture?”
Okay, so she wasn’t well-off in the slightest, but her things functioned to make her house a home – well, not her house, but that was mincing words.
She paid a lot of money for this rental house in this area because it was exceedingly nice and in a lovely neighborhood.
In fact, it took three out of her four paychecks to make the rent, which left little money for extra things…
and now his royal majesty was judging her?
“Go away,” she retorted flatly and continued putting away the groceries just so she didn’t look at him or lose her temper once more. “Do us both a favor and just go away – please.”
“Where’s your couch?”
“It’s just me – and this ‘ME’ sits on her recliner nicely, by myself.”
“I don’t understand… you broke your phone and don’t have a television? What do you even do in the evenings? Don’t you doomscroll like the rest of society?”
She slammed down a can on the counter, making her utensil holder jump nearby as she whirled around to glare at Drake.
“Do not come over here judging me after insulting me…”
“Steffi…”
“I don’t have a couch because I cannot afford one nor can I afford to rent movers to lift it or a truck large enough to relocate it from place to place,” she railed at him and knew she sounded like a shrew, but her temper was too far gone…
her pride in ribbons… and he was standing there looking all polished and pretty in her shabby living room that was nearly empty except a few milk crates that served as storage containers.
“I buy my pieces at yard sales when I have a little extra in my bank account, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I have had to move four times over the last five years, and it’s difficult to do that when you are alone.
If it fits in my car, can be strapped to the top of it, or serves a specific function – it comes with me when I move…
and if it doesn’t?” She angrily threw the brand-new box of trash bags that she’d just purchased at him, landing on the floor between them.
“Then it goes into one of those – at the curb. Got any more questions? Hmm? You want the grand tour now? How about you check out my hall closet, where I keep two towels and two washcloths beside a change of sheets. Would you like to see my twin-size mattress where it rests on the floor?”
Drake was eerily silent, which only pushed her further.
“Not everyone in this world is filthy rich,” she continued, losing steam quickly as she turned away from him. “Some of us are just trying to get by, oh great Demented Wonder.”
Steffi went back to putting the dented cans she got from the clearance bin at the grocery into the cabinet.
It had been full of treasures this week, so much so that she was able to get a few boxes of pasta that had been taped shut, some expired makeup, and a new slotted spoon that had been discontinued.
She’d been having a good day – until now.
Until Drake.
“I’ve forgotten…” he whispered from behind her in a hoarse voice that caught her attention as she froze.
“I’m sorry that I ever made you feel defensive, but it was surprising to see a few things missing – and I forgot how it was right after my dad passed away.
My mother always made sure we had the best of things, but hearing what you said about just trying to get by, made me remember her saying that too when I was a boy. ”
Steffi looked at him and his somber expression. “No silver spoon for you?”
“Not at all,” he admitted in a hushed voice. “Mine was a tarnished one found in the dirt, and we had to bend it back into shape.”
Neither said a word for several moments before Drake picked up the box of trash bags and walked over to set it on the counter before her.
“I don’t want to fight,” he began and hesitated. “I was coming over to ask if you could take a photo with me, so I can text it to my mom.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re engaged.”
“Drake…”
“We need to keep up appearances for a bit.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got a few commitments coming and I don’t want to disrupt things financially on my end – I’m sure you can understand.”
She flinched.
Steffi could understand wanting to keep the paychecks flowing and consistent. She went in when she had a head cold, refusing to call in sick, and always picked up overtime shifts when they were available to save a little extra, in case she needed it for an emergency.
“I also wanted to have your car taken in for repairs – and thought I would loan you mine, if you are acceptable to that idea?” he said quietly, digging out his keys. “I promised to fix it as part of our engagement, remember?”
“Drake…”
She began – and he pressed the key into her hand, holding her gaze. She was proud, but not stupid. He had offered to fix her car for her – for free – and she needed that vehicle to last as long as possible.
“Truce, Steffi,” he breathed softly, his eyes searching hers. “I know you want this over, but I need it to continue for a little while longer, which is why I asked about your sizes. Enjoy this for what it is and let’s call a truce, that begins with a photo of us, together.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say ‘no’ again, because something about him made her on edge… and she saw the corner of his lip turn upward.
“Please?” he offered – and she sighed heavily, accepting the keys.
“No takebacks,” she warned, shaking the keys at him. “You don’t get to gripe at me about the car not being washed, the grass, or anything else while this ‘deal’ is in the works – got me?”
“I understand,” he chuckled, nodding. “And in return, we’re engaged according to anyone who asks, and we’ll act the part.”
“Fine,” she agreed and then hesitated. “And while they are fixing the oil leaks, can they fix the air conditioner too?”
“I said ‘repaired’- so yes.”
“Then let’s take your photo,” she hedged nervously, taking a second to set down the keys to his car and tuck her hair behind her ear. He opened the camera app on his phone, held it up, and she stopped him. “Hang on – another rule. Any photos taken by either member get texted to the other person…”
“Fair enough – but your phone is broken, remember?” Drake agreed and held up his phone once more. “Smile.”
She smiled wanly, frustrated that he was right; she had broken her phone when she threw it and heard his heavy sigh. Drake rolled his eyes before lowering his arm.
“Um, we’re supposed to sell this – remember? Let’s try again – and try to look enthusiastic. Remember, engaged means two people in a tender relationship…”
“Who knew you’d be such a stickler for details?” she muttered and heard him say something under his breath as he raised his arm again to hold the phone aloft for a selfie. This time, Steffi turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek at the last second, capturing a playful kiss between them.
“I never said anything about kissing,” he hesitated as a wide smile touched his lips. “Is kissing on the table, because we’re gonna take another photo.”
“No,” she grimaced at the impetuousness of her actions. “Kissing isn’t on the table. You said to sell it, and I remembered that my parents had a photo like that when I was a little girl.”
“Fine. Let’s do this one more time, same thing, but I want to be smiling in this photo.”
“Seriously? You’re gonna stage this?”
“Uh, absolutely I am… now come on, line up, and…” he held the camera aloft again, his eyes holding hers on the screen, waiting.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked pointedly.
“For you to kiss my cheek.”
“I will, right at the last second.”
“You can do it now – and then I’ll take the photo.”
“I’m not sure I want that much lip-to-skin contact between us.”
“Well, that’s a first for me,” he chuckled, grinning – and she leaned forward once more to kiss his cheek as he jumped slightly right before she pulled away. “I missed it – and this is why we were staging things.”
“I guess you should pay attention.”
“I suppose so. Let’s try it one more time – and I’m going to focus now.”
“Why do I have a feeling you are toying with me?”
“Nope, one more photo for my mama…”
Steffi lifted up on her toes, got close to his cheek, and whispered against his skin. “Are you ready?”
“Ready,” he replied hoarsely, not moving. “And three… two… one…”