Pride (15 page)

“You want
me
to … do your laundry?” Harper could feel her good employee routine slipping through her fingers. “Are you kidding me?”

“Don’t play coy with me, sweetie,” White said, gazing at the TV. “You may have a fancy name, but I know you need the cash.” He chuckled. His laugh sounded like a garbage disposal. “Otherwise, why the hell would you be working here?”

Harper looked down at her feet. She could see a dirty gray piece of cotton peeking out of the top of the bag, but didn’t want to think too hard about what it might be.

As she saw it, she had two options.

She could suck it up and take the laundry, prove to herself and the world that, contrary to popular opinion, Harper Grace didn’t mind a little hard work once in a while. More importantly, she could pay back her parents that much faster, hastening the blessed day when she could finally walk out of the Nifty Fifties and never come back.

Or she could throw the bag of dirty underwear in his face and remind this loser that class and money were two separate things. He may have her beat on the latter, but where the former was concerned, he wasn’t even worthy enough to shine her shoes.

“Oh, what, did I offend you?” he snarled. “
Bethie
never had a problem with it.”

Harper rolled her eyes. Of course not. Little Miss Perfect let White walk all over her. Watching Beth get bawled out by the manager on a daily basis had been the only glimmer of pleasure in Harper’s dark diner days.

What would Beth do?

Beth
would probably accept the laundry gratefully, like a dog begging for scraps.
Beth
would smile sweetly and thank White for his Christmas “bonus.”
Beth
would hold her nose, wash the underwear, and come back eager for more torture.

But Harper wasn’t Beth—thank God. And it was about time people started to appreciate it.

She gave the bag of laundry a sharp kick, pretending her foot was connecting with something far more satisfying. It skidded across the room, strewing pants and underwear all over the office floor.

“Did you forget who you’re dealing with here?” White growled, standing up. His face had turned a deep, purplish red.

“No—I forgot who
you
were dealing with,” Harpercorrected him. “But now I remember. And just in time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I used to think your burgers were the nastiest thing in town—and then I met you. I quit.”

Kaia was having a bad day. And the e-mail didn’t help.

K—Merry X-Mas! New Year’s at Smash. Be there!—L P.S. J’s been asking about you….

Lauren was the only one of her New York “friends” who kept in touch with regular—if brief—e-mails, tantalizing missives about the life Kaia had left behind. She was also the only one who didn’t rub Kaia’s face in the fact that she was missing everything. And “J” was, of course, Joshua Selznick, an ex-boyfriend with a model’s build and a mogul’s wallet.

Kaia fantasized for a moment about making a grand reentry to New York for New Year’s Eve. A private party at Smash, one of the hottest clubs in the city (and, conveniently, owned by a friend’s father). A wild, all-night adventure filled with glitz and glamour, just like the old days …

New Year’s had always been Kaia’s favorite day of the year, but her father had all the power—and all the credit cards. Which meant she was stuck.

Unless …

Kaia was pretty sure her mother hated her, but there was one person she hated more: Kaia’s father. Motherly affection might not be enough to win her approval for a trip back east—but maybe divorcée disgust would.

Such a strategy would, of course, mean contacting her mother—but sometimes it was necessary to make a small sacrifice for the greater good. Five minutes later, she was dialing the number, half hoping there would be no answer.

“What is it?” came the harsh greeting.

“Mother?” Kaia asked tentatively.

“Oh, darling, it’s you. I thought it was your
father
. Caller ID, you know. What is it, darling? I’m running out.”

Kaia always marveled at the way her mother was able to take a word of apparent affection, like “darling,” and somehow drain it of all warmth.

“It s been a while since we’ve talked,” Kaia began.

“Oh, has it?” her mother asked distractedly.

“Four months, Mother,” she pointed out.

“Oh no, I’m sure it hasn’t been that long. Don’t be melodramatic, darling. Well, it was nice to hear from you, but—”

“It’s Christmas, Mother. Don’t you even want to know how I am?” Kaia asked through gritted teeth.

“You sound lovely, darling. I assume your father’s taking proper care of you.”

“That’s the thing—”

“I can only hope he’s managing to be a better father than he was a husband. That bottom-feeding, scum-sucking … well, it’s all in the past now. You’re an angel for putting up with him.”

“He’s not around very much,” Kaia admitted.

“Oh, then lucky you!” her mother exclaimed. “Now Kaia, I really must go, so—”

“I want to come home for a visit,” Kaia blurted out. “Dad won’t let me—he’s trying to keep me away from you. I—” Could she really get the words out with a straight face? “I miss you.”

“Oh. Well, that won’t do at all,” Kaia’s mother said calmly. “Who does your father think he is? Of course we’ll plan a visit. Sometime soon, darling. Don’t worry.”

“I was thinking next weekend,” Kaia said, hope rising.

Her mother laughed, a brittle, glassy trill that contained no real amusement or joy. “The weekend? Oh no, I’m far too busy. It’s New Year’s, you know.”

She knew.

“And, of course, the rest of winter is just a mess—so many benefits to attend, you know how it is. But don’t worry, we’ll find some time—maybe in the spring. Or definitely in the summer.”

“I’m moving back in the summer,” Kaia pointed out coolly.

“Of course, of course—well, that’s perfect, then. It’s been lovely hearing from you, darling.”

“But—”

“Let’s chat again soon, shall we?”

And the line went dead.

Once upon a time, there was a shy young girl who wanted nothing more than to get out of her small-town life and see the world. She thought she’d be trapped in her tiny, boring house forever—and then one magical day, she opened a book. And the whole world changed.

Beth crumpled up the paper in disgust. It was so melodramatic, so cheesy—so lame. Almost as bad as her first effort:

My name is Beth Manning and I would love to attend (Your School Here). I am bright and energetic, the editor of my school newspaper, and I think I could make an excellent addition to (Your School Here).

Yeah, that was great. She might as well just submit a blank page with the heading “I am so boring, I have literally nothing to say for myself. Please admit me, anyway.”

Out of desperation, she’d checked out
How to Write a Winning College Essay
from the Grace local library—hoping that even though it was written in 1987, it would still help her get over her writer’s block. But so far? Nothing.

Be creative,
the book urged.
Be yourself
. Unless “yourself” is weird or just totally bland, Beth thought dispiritedly. Then maybe it was best to be someone else.

She wondered if Harper was even bothering to fill out her applications (the way things were going, maybe she’d just steal Beth’s). How might her essay read? “I’m Harper Grace, and I’ll be attending your school next year, because I want to—and, let’s be honest, I always get what I want.”

But Beth was too sickened by the thought of Harper to continue down that road—because that led to Harper-and-Adam, and that usually led to her leaning over the toilet, waiting for a wave of nausea to pass.

Be honest,
the book kept saying.
Talk about what you want, what you’re proud of Why you’re special
.

But how was she supposed to do that in an essay when she couldn’t do it in real life? She didn’t seem to know how to be honest about what she wanted anymore—not with Kane, not with Adam, not with herself. And she had no idea who she was anymore. Before, it had been easy. Beth, the good girl. Everyone knew it. But now? She smiled, thinking of how much she’d enjoyed tormenting Harper at the diner, how she’d managed to convince Mr. White to saddle her with the dreaded Christmas shift. Was that the work of a good girl?

Maybe honesty was the answer after all.

I used to be the perfect student, the perfect daughter, the perfect girlfriend. Then my boyfriend dumped me, I tanked the SATs—and now I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing. I do know that I still want a future, and I want it away from here—and that if you take a chance on me, it just might pay off.

Well… it was a start.

Just not a good one.

Mercifully, the phone rang, and although Beth had promised herself no breaks until she’d finished a draft, she leaped to answer it.

“Hey, it’s me—what are you doing?”

Beth wondered—was it strange that she’d been dating Kane for over a month and a part of her still found it a little bizarre that he was a part of her life, that they spoke so often that she was expected to recognize his voice? She did, of course—but something about the casual intimacy still threw her off. She just wished she knew why. “Working.” She sighed. “Sort of.”

“It’s Christmas,” he pointed out.

“Don’t remind me. My brothers are on a massive sugar high from all the candy canes. From the sound of it, they’re having some kind of shouting contest.”

“I know, I can hear it.”

“What? Where—” Beth went over to her window and looked out. Sure enough, Kane was lounging against a tree. He smirked at the sight of her and gave her a languid wave. “What are you doing out there?” she asked, laughing. “Do you want to come in?”

“Actually…” And in that pause, Beth was reminded of how much Kane hated her house. He’d never said anything, of course, but whenever he stepped inside, she could tell it got to him—the noise, the clutter, the size (or lack thereof). It didn’t usually bother her, but when Kane was there, it felt like a zoo—she was just glad he didn’t think of her as one of the animals.

“I was hoping you could come out and play,” he said, affecting an innocent little-boy voice.

Beth giggled.

“I’ve got all this stuff to do, my essay—”

“Just for a little break? I’m booooored,” he whined.

“Well… I do have to give you your Christmas present,” she mused. “And maybe if it were just a quick break.”

“You can’t resist me,” Kane boasted and, giving her another wave, snapped his phone shut. Beth shook her head. For whatever reason, it was true.

Victory. He’d gotten her away from her work and out of the house—but was it normal that those be such major triumphs? Never having had a real girlfriend before, Kane didn’t really have any idea how often you were supposed to see her or what you were supposed to do when you did—and with Adam still pouting, he didn’t have anyone to ask.

While he hadn’t gotten everything—or really, anything—he’d wanted out of Beth up in the mountains, Kane was no quitter, not when it came to beautiful women. And then there was the disconcerting fact that he was actually enjoying her company—fully clothed, out of bed, inches of space between them, and he still wanted her around. It didn’t make any sense.

Not that there weren’t a few occasional perks.

“Mmm,” he breathed when they broke from a long kiss hello. “You smell amazing. What is that?”

“Um.” She blushed and tucked her hair behind her ears—a nervous habit that, Kane was ashamed to admit, he was beginning to find adorable. “Shampoo?”

“So what’s this I hear about a present?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her down the sidewalk.

She gave him a playful shove. “You’re such a little kid sometimes—can’t you wait?”

“I’m nothing if not patient,” he pointed out, only half joking. After all, she had no idea how long he’d waited around for her. Was still waiting.

“It’s just something little,” she said hesitantly, pulling a small wrapped box from her coat pocket. “I hope you like it.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, babe,” he said, slinging an arm around her. “I’ll love it.”

He unwrapped the gift. Inside the box lay a CD case, with a picture of the two of them together taped to the cover.

Total cheese.

“I … I put together some songs I thought you’d like,” she explained. “You know, music that made me think of you.”

“Oh, Beth.” He slipped the CD into his pocket and gave her a kiss. It was so hokey, so painfully sincere, so … Beth. “I love it.” And it wasn’t a
total
lie. “I can’t wait to get home and listen to it.” Except for that part. Kane shuddered to think what kind of lovey-dovey crap Beth might have burned for him.

“Your present isn’t quite ready yet,” Kane explained, though the truth was, he’d forgotten. It had been a long time since he’d needed to buy someone a Christmas present.