When I upped and left the café outside the studio, I ran. Alfie had left it until Monday before he started calling. By which point, I was already in the small town of Berry Brook, a few hours drive from Dallas. I’ve remained in this very position since then with the exception of using the bathroom to rub some toothpaste around my mouth. It’s a sad state of affairs that my family has just let me bed-rot. No one’s bothered me or questioned me. They’ve let me wallow and only interrupted my self-imposed isolation to bring me food and water.
My career as a fake girlfriend lasted less than twelve hours. Although if we count the Dinner Club, it was five days. At least I gave it a good shot. To be fair to me, I have an idiot for a boss, and to be fair to Alfie, I agreed to go along with his stupidity.
What was I thinking? Just the thought of him telling me we would need tohold handsmakes me want to step out of my body so I can slap myself a few times.
No.
Slap.
Physical.
Slap.
Contact.
Slap.
So yeah, it’s Friday, and I last saw Alfie on Thursday last week. I’ve ignored every call, every text, and every email. I was half expecting a carrier pigeon to make its way over here, but given that he doesn’t know where I am, that might be difficult.
At this point, I can’t even call myself hisreceptionist.Wow. That hurt. I’ve studied for ten years. Worked my ass off to helphim build his business, all for him to call me the receptionist. Well, I hope he’s had a shit week, that’s all I can say.
Maybe I’m unemployed now. Jobless, homeless and fake-boyfriendless. Run home with my tail tucked between my legs.
I pull my blanket up to my chin. Ridiculous really, as it’s not cold. But there's something so comforting about tucking yourself away from the world. This blanket could act better than a titanium shield right now.
A small knock at the door makes me question that previous thought.
“Yeah?”
The door creaks open, and my niece Annabelle hops through, jumping like a frog. She’s four and doesn’t understand personal space. She approaches my bed and then proceeds to talk so close to my face, I can feel her lips on the tip of my nose. She’s been eating cookies with milk; I can smell the sweet, sugary scent all over her.
“Annie, take a step back from Auntie Mia,” my brother says. “She hasn’t showered in five days, and I don’t want you to catch something.”
I lift my head and see his shit-eating grin. Fucker didn’t shower for three months one year when we were around thirteen and fourteen as a bet. It was disgusting. Eventually, our mom hosed him off in the yard with freezing cold water, throwing a bar of soap at him so hard it left a bruise on his chest that he would show anyone that would look, as if it was a badge of honor.
“Annie, why don’t you get Auntie Mia one of those cookies that Grandma made?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she says, skipping out of the room.
“How you doing?”
“Fine,” I lie.
Levi and I are closest in age, and he’s not completely useless like my other three brothers. So, it’s hard not to completely hate him. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers, but their unhelpfulness is borderline pathological. Our mom still treats them all like they’re babies, and they let her.
“Wanna give me a real answer?” he snips, poking around my desk as if I’ve left my secrets laid out in an open journal he could just pick up and rifle through.
“Just had a rough few days.”
“Sounds about right. You work too hard.” He clicks his tongue, moving toward the curtains.
“I have a lot I want to achieve.Pleasedon’t open those, Levi.”
He grips the thick fabric, and I know this game. Depending on what I say will depend if I get the glaring sun burning my retinas. “You can’t do that closer to home?” he asks.
“Levi. This hasn’t been home for a long time now. My home is in Seattle.”
His fingers twitch. “I know that. I know, trust me. And I get that all of us are a lot. We rely on Mom too much, and when you’re here, it’s like we transfer it to you.”
