Motioning to the meager spread, I fix her mother with a smile. “We can discuss things while we eat. I’d hate for the food to get cold, Mrs. Kole.”
All business.
I’ve seen my father interact with business partners more times than I can count. I grew up being dragged to events and even watching my own home become those ruthless, loud things. This is nothing, barely an exercise. I have twopsychological advantages.
The first, it’s late. Mrs. Kole is tired. People are more honest when they’re tired.
The second, we’re eating. People are less guarded while they’re eating.
I’ll be able to assess the bits of her character more easily under these circumstances, and before I leave, I’ll be able to tell, for the most part, whether or not I’m leaving Calypso somewhere safe.
Almost reluctant, Mrs. Kole obliges and takes her seat. Calypso follows, and I sit last, surveying the way her mother watches her through the steam in front of us until Calypso can’t take it anymore and drops her attention to her lap.
“Whatexactlyis your relationship with my daughter, Lex?” Mrs. Kole asks.
I lift a spoonful of bake to her plate, then Calypso’s, then mine before I intend at all to answer. Only after Mrs. Kole has lifted her fork do I look directly at her and reply, “She’s my sugar baby.”
Calypso
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What?” Mom and I both blurt at once, then I gasp and bite my tongue. If Lex is taking the lead for thisact, then doesn’t that mean I’m supposed to follow him? I don’t know if I can lie though. What is he doing?
Why is he opening with something likethis? No doubtthisis exactly what Mom thinks I’m doing to get money in the first place.
My huge eyes fix themselves on him, on thejerk. He doesn’t look even the slightest bit distressed as he takes a bite of his meal. My heart pounds, but my lips part with the hint of a realization. Is he telling her what she already believes? To confirm her suspicions then twist them…that would be the best way to get her to believe what he’s saying. Because she’ll beright. People always want to believe they’re right.
Red hot anger fills my mom’s face, but for the moment, all of it is directed at Lex, not me, and until it turns, maybe I can breathe. “What have you been doing to my daughter?” she demands.
Lex sighs. “That’s why she didn’t want to tell you.”
Mom’s gaze snaps to me. And I could disappear. I want to die. My mouth locks shut, and I can’t look away as my stomach rolls.
“There’s such a stigma around the term,” Lex continues, like nothing is wrong. His gaze slides up, fixing Mom in a way that drags her attention back off me. “It’s the closest term I have to describe what’s going on, even though things don’t go as far as it usually implies.”
Lex’s devil-may-care air and impeccable guise of control makes it almost feel like he’s expected and anticipatedeverything. Like he’s the lead in a show who not only read the script as the actor but also as the character. No alarm. No concern.
He’s just waiting on his lines, the ones that will make everything fall right into place and reveal him the victor in this charade.
I manage a breath.
“The last thing Calypso wants to do is hurt or disappoint you. When I approached her and offered to pay her more than she was making for less hours of work, she laughed in my face. Obviously.” Lex scoots back and reaches under the table, drawing out his satchel.
When did he put that there? How much of this “scene” has he planned?
He removes a few pages, and I almost recognize them. The contract. I recognize the bold title, but something about the size and shape of the paragraphs isn’t right. Has the text been edited?
“It’s all here, and it’s notarized.” Lex passes the papers to my mother, and she’s too frozen in anger to do anything but glance down at them. “As stipulated, I am bound by law to not lay a finger on her.”
Mom seethes. “You think I’m stupid? You think pieces of paper can prove anything?”
“I’m happy to confirm that a contract of this nature has indeed been recorded as notarized at the bank by our school. I’m not trying to insult your intelligence. Rather, I’m trying to seriously explain the odd situation I’ve orchestrated and put your nerves at ease.” Something hard enters Lex’s gaze to rival my mother’s. “Calypso only finally agreed to this because she noticed that her overworking herself was troubling you. I didn’t find that out until much later, though.”
That…checks out with what I’ve already told Mom. Has Lexanalyzed everything down to that detail? He knows my motives with that much precision? I don’t think that’s something I stated when I told him about how pressured my mom makes me feel. In fact, I’m sure of it.
It’s somehow healing to watch him throw something like that at her. Make ither faultI did this. It feels too much like payback for the hundred times she’s done the same to me, even before I was old enough to understand that was what was happening.
Mom snatches the papers, our food forgotten, and her gaze runs over the words. “What sorts ofactivitiesdoes this refer to? Andwhy? What does a young man like you get out of paying for platonic company? You expect me to believe you have trouble finding it?”
