Nouveau riche, p.8
Nouveau Riche, page 8
“How so?”
He shakes his head. “Thank you, but I’m going to pass.” Without another word, he brushes past me and back into the main room.
It’s really a pity.
He needs me, and I need him. He was my best hope, and I blew it somehow. I’m just not sure quite how. I guess my timing was off—or maybe luck wasn’t with me. I can’t help feeling a little dejected as I wander around the party. I do manage to pull a few donations of people’s literal pocket change—I promise to email them receipts—but it’s nothing great. I’ve lowered myself to casually begging, and it’s only gotten me enough to finance another week or two of basic supplies. Honestly, that would be fine. I don’t care a lot about my pride, as long as I don’t sink low enough to stop being invited to things like this.
Except that I need a hundred grand in the next ten days to have a prayer of pulling this off. Every time I think about surrendering all those animals. . .and not even having a place to bring new ones going forward.
I want to crawl into my bed at home and cry.
But then I think about my only other alternative, and that almost feels worse.
I keep thinking about Hottie today, his ears pricked forward, his nostrils rippling as he calls for me from the field. My heart hurts for just thinking about selling him, but so many other tiny faces clamor for my attention. Selling my one sweet horse could fund countless other adoptions.
I’d be the most selfish creature in New York to keep him when his sale could do so much more good. Even Hottie would probably understand. After all, he’s a rescue himself, slated for the kill pen when his career as a racer ended.
I’m dragging my feet on the way home, but when I reach my apartment, my tiny fluffs are all giddy I’m back. They don’t care that I totally bombed out tonight. Lucky looks even more delighted than they are, but she hangs back a little until the tinies have bounced and licked and bounced against my legs. Once I call her, she practically knocks me over with all her jumping, but at least I don’t have to wonder whether she’s happy to see me.
When I check the back patio Astroturf, it’s. . . Just eww. I got the small dog door installed to lead out to my second floor patio. My tiny dogs often shoot through and bark at nearby walkers or other residents. They also go potty when I’m not home to walk them. I guess Lucky was also able to squeeze through thanks to how emaciated she is, and let’s just say that her deposits are far more significant than Floof and Boba’s. I gag a few times cleaning it up, but then I’m really ready to get out with the babies for a walk.
Of course, my poms run out of energy after I circle the building just one time, and I’m practically dragging them by the time we get back to the apartment. I decide to leave them there for a bit and head back down with Lucky. She pulls ridiculously, and I decide to do a little work on it now. I’m doing my third lap when my phone starts ringing. “Hello?”
Lucky chooses that moment to spot a squirrel and take off after it—spinning me around like some kind of demented ice skater. I nearly drop my phone, catching it with my fingertips just as I get hold of Lucky again.
I have no idea what the caller just heard, but they probably think I’m insane.
Thankfully, it’s Easton. My brother’s used to this kind of nonsense.
“Hey,” he says. “You alright? Sounds like World War Three just started in Scarsdale.”
“I’m currently fostering a border collie,” I say.
“Oh, no. It’s finally happened.”
“Hey,” I say. “Don’t be rude.” I can tell he’s about to ignore me.
“You’ve finally lost the very last of your mind.”
“If you’d seen her, you’d understand.”
“But you subject yourself to all these miseries by actually going to shelters and seeking them out.”
“If I don’t, then—”
“Don’t say it,” Easton says. “I know they’ll die. Everyone knows that. But you can’t save the whole world.”
“I can do my best to try.”
“But aren’t the border collies those black and white ones that never stop moving?”
“They come in brown and multicolor as well,” I say.
“Yes, that makes it better.”
“Actually, she’s also a puppy.” I can’t help groaning a little, and that makes Lucky’s ears come forward. She looks so lovely when she’s paying attention and not mauling me with her overflowing and uncontrollable love.
“You’re a masochist.”
“I think you mean sado-maso—”
“Speaking of that,” Easton says. “Ace called.”
“Oh, geez.”
“He said you took the job.”
“He’s worse than I remember,” I say.
“He said you were hotter than he remembered.”
“How are you still friends with him?” I think about texting Ace to back out of it, but I really do need steady income. Even if I wind up not being able to buy the shelter from Mom and Dad, I’ll need someplace new, and the bank’s not going to budge on my reliability and steady income or whatever. Or if I decide to rent another place, they’ll want me to show that I’m making money as well.
“Most of his outrageous stuff is just a show, like there’s some kind of weird role he started when he’s around groups of people, and now he can’t seem to stop playing it.”
“It’s tiring,” I say.
“If you hate the job, you can quit. Plus, we’re good enough friends that I’m pretty sure he won’t say anything about you to anyone.”
As if I’d care about that.
“But listen, the real reason I’m calling is that I finally got an answer out of Dad.”
“About?”
“The buyers on the shelter,” he says. “Didn’t you say you wanted to know who it was?”
My heart lurches. “Yes. Who is it?” Please, please let it be someone I know, or more importantly, someone who can be reasoned with.
“Apparently there’s this big company that’s buying all the buildings in that area to make an inland warehouse. It took them a good six months to convince everyone who owns buildings near the shelter, so I’m not sure how easy it’ll be to change their plans.”
My poor excited heart sinks. “Really?”
He grunts. “I think you may know the name—Mom used to go to a lot of parties at her house. Catherine Richmond’s running things again right now, because apparently her son who was in the process of taking over just died. The company leveling all the buildings over there is Richmond Steel.”
My shelter’s right on the corner—perfect frontage to the road they’d be using to come and go. How exactly did I go wrong with that Emerson guy? He was so cute that I got distracted, and now my hasty blunder may cost me the shelter. How perfect would it have been if he agreed. Talk about the inside track.
What a missed opportunity.
Unless. . .his grandmother seemed keen to keep their deal a secret. Maybe I could blackmail her with telling. . .no. That would be too awful, even for me. Right?
“Elizabeth?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m here. Sorry. I’ve got to get some things done, though, so I better. . .”
“Right. Look, if you need anything else, let me know. I hear Mrs. Richmond’s pretty preoccupied, because apparently she’s had to drag a grandson who didn’t want much to do with the family back in to run things.”
“I may have heard that too,” I say.
“I’m not sure whether that makes it more likely or less that she might reconfigure, but I hear the grandson’s about your age. Maybe you could get to know him or even befriend him. If I had to guess, I’d say he’ll feel a little like an outsider right about now. Plus, I have it on pretty good authority that the Richmond family has a foundation that donates like twenty billion dollars a year. A tiny chunk of that would go a long way for all your mangy dogs and screechy cats.”
“None of my dogs have mange,” I say almost reflexively. Not much to say in defense of the cats. They do screech a lot.
“Thank goodness for small blessings,” Easton says. “But I really think you should see what you can do about meeting that Emerson kid. And when you do? Definitely bring your A game.”
I don’t tell him that we’ve met twice now, once when I crashed into him and I mistook him for a waiter and stormed off, and a second time when he was wearing one of the tackiest thousand dollar t-shirts I’ve ever seen and talking to Ace, who was at his most obnoxious.
I do start making plans to meet him a third time. This time, I’m determined not to crash and burn.
7
Emerson
When I was little, we couldn’t afford much in the way of entertainment. At one point, one of the few things we had were old videos of the Muppets someone had left in the apartment we moved into. I watched them over and over and over.
And I always felt a little sorry for Kermit the Frog.
I mean, he was funny, sensible, and a very nice shade of green. What did he do to deserve being stuck with the obnoxious, loud, and very pushy Miss Piggy? If I were him, I’d do what frogs do best and hop right out of there.
In this moment, I’m really really wishing I could hop. Sadly, I’m pretty sure I’m stuck here until I can pay the check for this train wreck of a meal.
“How old is your grandma, anyway?”
“How old?” I shrug. “She didn’t tell me.”
“But you can’t take over until she dies, right? Or does she want to step down now?”
Is she actually trying to make macabre small talk about when Catherine Richmond will die? Or is she pressing in order to find out when I might be running the whole company? Either way, ew.
“Because my parents had three kids, so I knew from the start that I’d never be in charge of anything, really. I mean, I’m the second child, but my older brother is a disgusting little kiss-up.”
“I was told that you run publicity and marketing for the company.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s just what they tell people.”
“It’s what who tells people?”
She frowns. “You didn’t say before—where did you go to school?”
“Let’s see,” I say, wondering whether this might be enough to dislodge her perfectly manicured talons from my back. “I started at Bronx Community College, and then I transferred to Brooklyn College for my four-year degree. I saved a bundle of money doing it that way, so if you haven’t actually graduated yet, I’d be happy to send you some info.”
“On Bronx Community College?” She looks like she can’t tell whether I’m kidding.
“Or Brooklyn College. Either one could work, really.” I force a smile.
Her lip is curled, and I bet she doesn’t even know it. “I already graduated. Thanks.”
“Oh, good for you.” I nod as if I’m actually surprised. As if I couldn’t tell that she thought my educational path was a dark alley leading to nowhere good. “So where did you go?”
“Oh, you’re kidding.” Her forced laugh sounds like a car that won’t quite turn over. “You’re so funny.”
“Wait. What did I say that’s funny?” I ask. “Unless you think my very respectable accounting degree is some kind of joke.”
Now she looks unsteady, like she’s trying rollerblades for the first time, and she’s worried she’ll fall and wreck her nose job. “Your grandmother said you have a different sense of humor.”
“She did, did she?”
The Princeton Barbie in front of me laughs this time, but it’s not as forced, thankfully. “She also said you don’t date much.”
“Probably because when I do, it tends to upset my girlfriend.” I probably shouldn’t have said that, but this is getting irritating.
When Princeton Barbie’s eyes widen and her hands clutch at the napkin she was using to wipe her fingers—salad dressing is messy stuff, apparently—I realize she’s actually upset. “Your grandmother didn’t say a word about that. I wouldn’t have come if I knew you had a girlfriend.”
“Ah, well. Granny’s not a big fan of my girlfriend,” I say. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Still, she shouldn’t be setting you up with other people if you’re just going to make ridiculous jokes and blow them off.”
“You did get a free salad out of it,” I say.
Princeton Barbie pops to her feet. “As if I care about that.”
“So, you’re leaving?”
She drops back into the seat with a flounce and a pout. “You’re supposed to stop me.”
“Why?” I’m so lost.
“Emerson.” She sticks out her lower lip like she’s a toddler. “Look, I didn’t want to have to bring this up, but I made a composite of what our kids would look like. They’re really cute, both of them. Look.”
What on earth? “You did. . .what?”
“If you put in two photos, there’s this website that will show you what your kids would look like. It’s important for people like us to know that right away.”
I’m beginning to think that she needs to be evaluated and put on some kind of medicine. She’s not very level. Two seconds ago, she was curling her lip about Brooklyn College. “But that’s hardly—”
“Emerson?”
I can’t help it. I turn toward the voice with a completely unfounded and yet desperate hope that it might be someone on a balloon-strung house that can carry me away from here. Ideally, not to the middle of some talking-dog-infested forest, but I’m not that picky. I’d go most anywhere at all.
“Yes?”
It’s the girl from last night—Elizabeth something or other. And like a lightbulb has gone off in my head, her face jostles another memory loose and I realize this is actually our third meeting. She’s the same girl who crashed into me at the funeral, shattering all that crystal. Is that when she heard who I am and what Grandma was offering? She looked amazing before I doused her in champagne that day—she looked pretty good last night as well.
But today?
Her hair’s in a messy topknot, wisps fluffing out on all sides, big knot bobbing back and forth as she wrestles with a lunging black and white dog. “What are you doing here?”
“He’s on a date,” Princeton Barbie says.
“Nonni?” Elizabeth asks.
“Do you know each other?” I ask.
“It’s a very small world,” Elizabeth says. “Sometimes it’s a real drag that everyone knows everyone else.” She looks like she means it.
“Don’t call me Nonni,” Princeton Barbie hisses.
“She prefers to be called Princeton Barbie,” I say.
Both of their heads whip in my direction.
“Excuse me?” Princeton Barbie says.
I lift my hand and catch the waiter’s eye. “Can I get the check?”
He nods and grabs a black book out of his apron—bless him. I have a black American Express with no limit thanks to Grandmother, but I’m not going to be here long enough to wait for him to run that. I plonk down my own cash for this overpriced meal, like a coyote chewing its leg off. “You’re on a walk?”
Elizabeth nods woodenly.
“Great. I’ve been meaning to start doing that.”
“Walking?” Elizabeth looks amused.
“Yes.” I nod. “Exactly.”
“It’s her.” Princeton Barbie shoots to her feet and chucks her napkin at the table. “You’re already dating Elizabeth, aren’t you? There’s no way you’d actually pick this terrible little diner in this horrible neighborhood otherwise. You must have planned that she’d be walking by.”
“Actually,” I say, “this is my favorite diner in the area. Their egg salad is amazing, and since I don’t eat meat, I’m always looking for a good protein source.”
“Aren’t eggs meat?” Elizabeth asks.
I shrug. “It’s a grey area, especially if the chickens are free range and happy.”
She blinks.
“You clearly haven’t been dating long.” Princeton Barbie stomps her foot. “You should at least give me another chance. I’m way better in the sack—”
I throw up my hands to stop her. “Trust me. Any more meals would be a huge waste of both our time.”
“Why?” She frowns.
I reach out and take Elizabeth’s free hand. The dog leaps up to lick our joined hands. “Because as I already told you, I adore my girlfriend.”
“But you said your grandmother—”
“I’m confident she’ll come around.”
When Princeton Barbie storms off, Elizabeth turns to me and drops her eyes to our hands. In that moment, a tiny thrill runs up my arm and I drop her hand like it’s a burning ember. “Sorry.”
“It’s been a long few days for me, but I really thought you turned me down when I suggested that we fake-date?” Her mouth turns up on the corner.
“I don’t like the idea of trying to pump people for money,” I say. “But I did have an idea of how I might help you.” I pick up my phone and dial Bentley.
He picks up on the first ring. “I wondered when you’d call. This is actually a lot later than I expected.”
“Mom and Dad don’t know,” I say. “I just found out. I’m trying to wrap—”
“I won’t tell them,” Bentley says. “This is your thing.”
“Thanks,” I say. “But I’m actually calling to ask a favor.”
“What?” Bentley chuckles. “Don’t tell me you finally want a job.”
“You said you never give jobs to kids of your friends.”
“You’re different. Dave’s not a contact—he’s my best friend. And you’re smart, a hard worker, and a good kid. I’ve offered you a job at least three times.”
“Good to know I’m an exception, but I’m spending all my time learning about Richmond Steel right now. What I need is something else.”
“Shoot. This should be interesting.”
“So, my new girlfriend Elizabeth runs an animal shelter, but they’re a little tight on funds. Don’t you have some money earmarked for charities? Maybe a little that you haven’t assigned yet?”
“Really? In fourteen years, you never once asked me for money, but two minutes after you find out you’re worth far more than I am, you call me up and start begging?”
