“Why are you acting like a child?” Mom has that wild look in her eye that lets me know she’s completely serious. I hate that look almost as much as I hate how she’s making me feel.
“I’m not acting like a child,” I contest. “I’m sorry, but the two of you are just plain rude. I can’t deal with this right now. It’s one thing to be cruel to me—but thenerve! To be cruel to my guest is more than I can handle.”
Dad chokes as if my words were a chicken bone lodged in the wrong pipe. “When have we ever been cruel to you?”
“I’m not getting into it.”
Jet and I head toward the elevator, and sure enough, it’s a million floors away.
“You make the decisions, Daisy,” Mom calls after me. “You’re the one who insisted on going to that expensive university. You chose yourprofession. Nobody told you to go to a school you can’t afford and become a call girl. And the nerve ofyou,young lady—traipsing back here willy-nilly as if what you’ve done doesn’t warrant a proper amount of shame. There are just some lessons you need to learn yourself.”
“That’s right!” Dad scoffs. “And that felon you’re with is about to teach you a few painful lessons himself if you continue to cavort with him. You never learn, Daisy. You have never been good at learning from your mistakes. You just compound, compound, and compound.”
The elevator mercifully glides open, and Jet and I bury ourselves inside.
Jet stares at me with an intent I’ve never seen before. “Just know that I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know how you’d feel.”
“Thank you. Honestly, at this point, I wouldn’t have minded.”
“Good.” Jet blocks the elevator doors with his shoe and prevents them from closing. “Keep it open for me.” He steps out, and I gird my body against the elevator doors to keep them from swallowing me whole. “Excuse me,” Jet calls out, and both of my parents look up, just as surprised to see us the second time around as they were the first. “I just need you to know that Daisy is one of the nicest, most thoughtful, most considerate people I have ever met. She’s loyal, and trustworthy, and just trying to make a space for herself in this world like everyone else. It’s a miracle she’s as tenderhearted as she is, considering she was raised by the two of you.”
Oh my dear God. Go, Jet, go!
Both my mother and father stand with their mouths hanging wide. Good thing there isn’t a fly in the vicinity or it would have flown right in. Now there’s something that would lead to maggots.
“She ruins everything!” my father calls out, each word its own dagger aimed at my heart. “She’ll ruin you next! Mark my words. You and those inked up arms of yours are done!”
Jet joins me on the elevator, and as soon as the doors entomb us inside, I wrap my arms around him. The tears in my eyes are far more effective in relaying my appreciation than words can ever be. Our mouths come together in a hot, thirsty kiss that wraps up the sentiment in my heart and stitches my soul over his for all of time and eternity.
What Jet and I have is love.
Jet is my family.
I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
As soon aswe get back to Hollow Brook, I assure Jet I’m fine and insist he go over to Think Ink. I’m headed down to Jepson myself, but no need to put him on alert.
Tiffany Ikeman sent me a private text, personally inviting me to the Legal Eagle club event this Friday night where there will be “an esteemed member of the legal community to discuss cyberbullying—Dorma Morano herself.” Sounds right up my alley.
Stilettos is quiet as an ironic church mouse in the middle of the afternoon. The entire establishment is free of windows, thus adding to an ever-present murkiness that drapes this place with the oppressiveness of a back alley hovel.
Caila spots me from the stage and gives a quick wink my way. She’s in the middle of one of her dance tutorials, the exact kind of educational encounter that lured me to the dark dancer side, hook, line, and stiletto.
“And take five!” She hops off the stage and pulls me straight into her dressing room. Caila has the largest and only single dressing room at the club. It’s the envy of every girl here, and most likely would be the envy of every five-year-old what with all the pink feathered boas, the sparkly throw pillows, and wall hangings depicting unicorns and rainbows.
“Tell me how things are going.” She retrieves a cold water bottle from the mini fridge and firmly places it in my hand without asking. I need it, though. I’ve drained all my tears on the way over from Jet’s house. It feels as if the golden cord that once bound my parents and me together has finally been severed—with a hatchet by my own mother and father.
“Things are better. I have Jet now.” I nod into this admission as if Jet were truly a panacea for all my worries. He is, but that won’t change the fact I’ve received one too many “final” warnings from the collection agency that’s attempting to snatch back my car. “But what I don’t have is a j-o-b. Got any other hair-brained ideas?”
“Oh, honey.” Her lids lower as if she’s trying to seduce me. “Nothing I conceive ever comes close to hair-brained. I make love to geniuses and give birth to millionaires on a regular basis. If you’re not in either of those leagues, you’re doing it wrong.”
My eyes spring wide, and I fight the urge to both tackle and strangle her with my bare hands.
“For the record, I am doing everything right.” My rage percolates beneath the surface, making my hands, my legs, and my voice tremble all at once. “I danced at this club without bearing it all in an effort to maintain my good girl status at Whitney Briggs, and now I’m the biggest slut to ever roam planet Earth. I chaperoned an old decrepit man, who could no more remember what he had for breakfast than he could breathe his allotted intake of oxygen, and now I’m forever marred as his mistress—his wife and kids all threatening to sue. I worked as a freaking sushi girl, lying there to make an easy buck while forty-year-old men double dared one another to touch my boobs, and, yet, here I am—not a dime to show for it,anyof it.”
Her eyes bug out. Her perfectly glossed lips remain unmoved as she listens with great intent. “Yes, well”—she gives a nervous glance to the door—“you’ll be the first person I think of if something new comes up.”
“Something new? I’m more interested in something old. Give me what you’ve got. I’ll dance. I’ll dance today. I’ll dance in thenude! Upside down, right side up. I’ve lost all the hair from my eyebrows down in the event you’ve forgotten. And God knows, after the way I scalded myself bald, it will never grow back.”
