I follow behind her, still reeling from the news of her celebrity ties.
She lifts the lingerie dress again. “In this, they would put you right in front of the stage. Hey, what if we wore wigs, too? Full disguise?”
The temptation of being in the center of the action proves too much. “How much is it?” The price tag flutters to a stop over the bodice, and I gasp at the handwritten number. “Twenty-three hundred?” For fuck’s sake. I push it away like it’s burning. “Ash, I don’t have that kind of money.”
Her eyes narrow. “Then how come your dickhead brother wore a Ralph Lauren suede and cashmere jacket to a tavern?”
“Well…” I try and fail to think of a way to explain without sounding pathetic. While we might use the same last name, that doesn’t mean we both get the financial benefits from it.
Ash raises her index finger. “That coat retails for three-grand.”
“Three-grand? God.” Leaning against a rack, I shake my head. “He must be charging things my dad doesn’t know about.”
Or, at least I hope my dad doesn’t know. Because while I don’t want or need a three-thousand-dollar coat, the monumental disparity between what Brad is given versus what I’m allowed only highlights how much of an unwanted burden I am.
“If he’s charging stuff, you could, too.” She waves the dress at me. “Daddy’s not going to refuse to pay the bill, right?”
“That’s not—“ I heave a long-suffering sigh. “Listen, my dad is nice, but he’s notthatnice.”
From Ash’s flat expression I can tell I’m going to have to be more convincing.
“Plus, Brad will be getting access to some trust money pretty soon.” I lean back, arms cross, pleased I remembered that little detail. “That’s probably how he plans to pay for his charges.”
Before Ash can respond, my phone buzzes.
Jamie: Coming to campus to get you in 30.
“Oh shit. We have to go back.”
“We do?” Ash leans over.
“I’m… going out.”
“With?”
I try to back away before she can read the text, but her hand grabs my arm to keep the phone’s screen close.
“No one.” I jerk my arm free and put my phone behind my back.
From the smirk curving her mouth, I know I was too slow. Ash lights up. “Jamie. Good.” She continues toward the cashier, heaving the expensive dresses onto the counter like one would a cart of groceries. “So leaving that note worked to get his attention and he asked you out. Silver lining.”
I wince, recalling Jamie’s anger on the phone. I’m not sure which annoyed him more, my going to his place or my inadvertently revealing to Ash that I’m in touch with him. FFS. “Ash, we’re trying to keep things low.”
“His idea, I’m sure. Screw that.” Slipping her phone out of her pocket, Ash’s fingers slide across the screen before lifting it to her ear. A second later, I hear a familiar Irish accent on the other end.
“What?” I feel the blood drain from my face. “No.”
Ash holds a finger up to the stunned saleswoman before strolling a few feet away. “Hey, ‘Mr. I’m so flush I just bought a new Porsche’, your new girlfriend is broke and needs you to buy her a pretty dress.”
Oh, my God.“I do not!” I lunge for her phone, but Ash is quick to dodge. “I don’t!” I pursue her as she weaves in and out of the clothing racks. “Ash, what the fuck?”
Ash ignores me and continues to speak to Jamie. “The tag says twenty-three-hundred, but I’m going to haggle and get them to come down.”
A glance at the saleswoman makes me begrudgingly agree with my asshole roommate. The poor woman looks like someone Ash could eat up and spit out before speed-racing to the nearest coffee shop for a pumpkin spice latte.
Giving up on stopping Ash from mortally embarrassing me, I stand still, waiting for the heat radiating under my skin to combust.
“Oh, fuck off, liar.” Ash laughs at whatever Jaime says. “I’ll buy her the dress myself, and she can be my sugar baby instead of yours.” After a moment, she laughs again. “Yes, she loves it. You will, too, if she lets you see her in it.”
