Page 26 of Maid For Each Other
“Oh, my God, I don’t want your car,” I said around an incredulous laugh. “I mean, of course I do but I don’t; I was making a point. And I have to work all weekend.”
“So call in sick.”
His argument said just so much about how different our lives were. “I can’t just call in sick. I need that money for rent.”
Without giving it a thought, he said, “I’ll pay your rent.”
“And I don’t have shareholder-quality clothes.”
“Edward will bring some.”
“What?” I kind of yelled it, but this conversation was reaching unbelievable proportions. “You really don’t care about money at all, do you?”
He just shrugged again. “Does that mean you’re in?”
“No,” I snapped, feeling that my face was all screwed up. “I mean, let me think for a second. You’re talking too fast and it’s making my head spin.”
“Okay.” Something in his eyes, in his face, changed. He looked less tired and irritated and more awake and challenged,like he was an animal about to go in for the kill. “I’m going to go into the bedroom and get some things from the closet—if that’s okay with you—while you just ‘think for a second.’ ”
It was irritating, the way he air-quoted me. “Go.”
He went into the other room and I tried getting my thoughts in order.
Two days. Saturday and Sunday. I only had to play with him for two days, and he’d cover my rent.
Or give me his car.
I wasn’t greedy so I wouldn’t ask, but I kind of thought I could get both if I wanted. He seemed to be desperate enough and also rich enough to not give a damn about the material things he’d be throwing away.
I didn’t want to do it, but I’d be a fool not to, right? I could take his money for rent and put my money toward my student loan principal.
Or…
I got off the couch and wandered over to the windows, looking out at the downtown night sky while my brain kept replaying the thought, over and over again like a flashing neon sign.
Ask him to pay off student loans.
Ask him to pay off student loans.
Ask him to pay off your motherloving student loans!
I mean, technically, the balance that I owed was less than what his fancy car was worth, so as ballsy as it seemed to demand a stack of cash, it was less than he was offering.
Right?
The only thing was that I wasn’t sure if it was possible for me to say those words. Could my mouth actually say the words anddemand fortythousanddollars? That felt like extortion or prostitution or…some other -tionthat I was probably too overwhelmed to think of.
“So what are we thinking?” Declan said as he walked into the room, and when I turned around, I was shocked to see him looking so…regular. He was wearing sweatpants and a Cubs T-shirt, with a baseball hat on backward, and it kind of threw me.
I hadn’t expected that heeverwent casual.
This was a little mind-blowing.
I cleared my throat and crossed the room, needing to get closer, because if I were going to say the wordsforty thousand, I wouldn’t be saying them loudly. At best, I’d be mouse-squeaking them; at worst, soundlessly mouthing them before fainting dead away from mortification.
I crossed my arms over my chest—I was freezing in the cocktail dress—and didn’t stop until I was standing in front of him.
“So,” I said, looking down at my red toenails. “I’ll do it on one condition.”
