I laughed and raised one eyebrow. "No. That's not exactly stuff I carry around in my purse." I opened my large bag and looked inside. "Wait–what about the top of my hairspray?" I pulled it off. It was plastic and roughly the size of a Dixie cup. I held it out to Carson.
"That'll work," he said, snatching it out of my hand. He reached his hand in his back pocket and pulled out a dime and held it up to me. Then he placed the hairspray cap in one corner of the elevator and went and stood in the opposite corner. "The rules are, if one person sinks the dime into the cap, the other person has to reveal a secret about themselves. No lying. No making something up. A genuine, true secret–something they've never told anyone else before."
I crossed my arms over my chest, biting my lip. I looked from the cap in one corner, to Carson in the other. "That's an impossible shot. The distance, and the size of the cap. It can't be done."
He raised one brow. "Are you in, or not?"
I exhaled. "Fine. Whatever. Go."
He paused. "Wait. Do you agree to the rules?"
"Yes, yes, a 'basket' for a secret. I'm in." I knew it was impossible, and so why not? I'd play his game.
He held the dime up, lining up his shot, moving to the right slightly, a look of pure concentration on his face as he tossed the dime overhand. It went straight in the cup, didn't even bounce. A solid dunk. What. The. Hell?
I gasped. "You cheated! That's not even possible!"
Carson laughed. "I cheated? How in the hell did I cheat? No way. Don’t try to get out of this. You owe me a secret, Buttercup. Let's hear it." He leaned his shoulder against the elevator wall, crossed his arms and tilted his chin down, looking expectantly at me.
I glared at him. "I mean, it's not as easy as that! I don't have any secrets." I raised both arms up and let them drop.
He kept looking at me, not saying a word, expressionless now. "Tell me why you're so perfect, Buttercup."
I made a disgusted gurgle in the back of my throat and crossed my arms again, looking away from him. I thought about what he was asking me. Did I really come across like that? Perfect? I felt the furthest away from perfect as a person could get. I was always trying not to rock the boat… trying to be enough… trying to make up for…
"My dad has had enough disappointment in his life. I'm just trying not to disappoint him," I blurted out.
Carson tilted his head, his eyes filling with… something. I looked away. "Anyway, that's all. My dad's had a hard time of it. I just want him to be proud of me. Is that so weird?"
"What disappointment has your dad had?" he asked quietly.
I stared at the wall for a minute, suddenly, inexplicably, wanting to say what came next. "When I was eleven, my little brother died of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. He was the only boy. I have two sisters." I looked down at my nails, studying them. "My dad is a cop… a real guy's guy. I guess me and my sisters always felt like maybe… like maybe…"
"Like maybe one of you were expendable because there were back-ups?" Carson asked quietly.
My eyes snapped up to his and I just stared at him for several seconds. I had never thought about it in those terms but… "Maybe. Yes."
He nodded, still looking into my eyes. Then he walked over to the cap in the corner, plucked the dime out and held it up to me. "Your turn."
**********
Carson
My throat had gone dry and I felt a strange itchiness just under my skin when Grace told me about her brother and her dad. I didn't really stop and think about the feeling. I had never really talked about emotions with anyone other than my granny. But she had passed away when I was seventeen and since then, I didn't go there much. I had initially suggested this game to take Grace off balance. I could throw a dime into a cup from further away than across an elevator. I had hours and hours of practice. It's what I had done to distract my mind while waiting for my mom to get off set.
But then she had actually shared with me and just like that, I was the one off balance.
I handed her the dime and stood back as she glanced at me and took her place in the opposite corner from the small cap and lined up her shot, underhand.
I studied her as she focused. Damn, she really was a beautiful girl. Sexy, but with a classic beauty that made me want to stare at the perfection of her features. She was slim, but had curves in all the right spots. Just exactly what I liked. I could tell she would be just as pretty stepping straight out of a shower in the morning, without a stitch of makeup on. I twitched in my pants at the image. Shit, this I did not need. I bit my own tongue to distract myself from thoughts of Grace stepping out of a shower, just as she let the dime fly. My head turned to watch it land with a plunk straight in the cap.
I laughed out loud as she whooped and threw her arms in the air in a victory pose. Wait, shit, this was not funny. Only, the look of pure excitement on her face made me want to scoop her up and hug her. Until I remembered that I don't hug. Anyone. Ever.
I sighed and tried to look as bored as possible. "All right. What is it you want to know about me?"
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes and scraped her teeth up her full bottom lip in a way that had me biting my own tongue again.
She walked back to her side of the elevator and slid down to the floor, pulling her legs up and covering them with her sundress like she had done before. I waited.
"A secret that you've never told anyone else, right?"
I nodded.
"Okay, why do you do porn?"
I laughed. "The answer to that question isn't exactly a secret. It's fun and it pays great."
She furrowed her delicate brows and stared at me for a minute. "Why do you really do porn, Carson?" she asked.
I chuckled. "Not everyone who does porn has some screwed up childhood and dark past. The industry is a lot different than it used to be. There are all kinds of safety measures in place…"