“I dunno. That’s her stage name. I don’t think it’s her legal name.” Another of those grins. “We’re not quite at the sharing personal information stage.”
I cackle. “You’re screwing her, but you don’t know her actual name?”
He sighs. “I actually like her. I want to impress her.”
“Oh, youactuallylike her. Meaning she’snotjust a wet hole with fake tits?” I roll my eyes. “If you want to impress her, maybe you should do something with your life. Like, say…learn to read. Get a job. I’ve heard the Wendy’s in town is hiring. You probably can’t fuck that uptoobad.”
He blinks at me. “Jesus, Dee. That was actually really harsh.”
“You need a Kleenex to dry your tears?”
A sigh. “What did I ever do to you, Delia?”
I boggle at him. “You want a list? I mean, off the top of my head…nothing. You’ve never done a damn thing for me. Including stopping your shithead friendThaifrom making my life a living hell for eighteen years. Other than that? Let’s see…oh! I know! Mooching off the family business, never being around to help Mom and Dad. Not working,ever. Let’s see…what else? Oh, I know! The one friend I ever had, you screwed. Remember Vivian Harris? My best and only friend from seventh grade? Whom you fucked in the back of a limo on prom night? Yeah, that comes to mind as something you did to me.”
“Shecame on tome!”he protests.
“Did it occur to you to, oh, say,turn her down? Like, ‘no, Viv, you’re my sister’s best friend, maybe we shouldn’t have unprotected sex in the back of a rented limousine.’”
“I wore a condom,” he mutters.
“Not what she said. And you wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you on the face.”
He shakes his head. “I dunno why I bothered. Sorry to have wasted your time, Delia.” He turns to walk away.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
He turns around. “Okay?” A lift of an eyebrow. “I’m not apologizing to Vivian.”
“Work for the company for one month. Thirty business days, not including weekends. I don’t care what you do. Pick up nails at a jobsite. Drive supplies around—actually, no, I don’t trust you with any actual responsibility. You could work with the marketing department—youdohave an actual college degree, I think. Pick something and do it for thirty days. Or shit, do a different thing every day. I don’t care. Just don’t fuck anything up.”
“If I agree to that, you’ll let me have a house for the weekend?”
I cackle. “Dell, if you can work thirty whole days in a row without fucking anything up, I’llgiveyou the house, to own.”
“Will I get paid?”
A disbelieving laugh bursts out of me. “Paid? You have a twenty-million-dollar trust fund!”
“I just…”
“No, Dell,” I snap. “You will pitch in to earn a fraction of afractionof the money you spend in your useless, idle, frivolous little life.”
He closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them, they’re wounded. “You really don’t think much of me, do you?”
“Not even a little bit, brother.”
He extends his hand to shake mine. “It’s a deal. Loan me the house for the weekend. I’ll work for the company for thirty days, and then you’ll sign a spec house over to me.”
I ignore his hand. “And if you do fuck up or give up?”
He shrugs, dropping his hand when he realizes I have no intention of shaking it. “You’ll get a lifetime of I-told-you-so out of it? Hell, I don’t know.”
I grab my phone off the table near the door, dial a number.
It rings twice, and then Cal, my lead project foreman, answers. “Hey, boss. What do you need?”
“Hi, Cal. Sorry to bother you this late on a weekend, but I need a quick favor.”
