I hung up and tossed the phone on the couch behind me. I felt sick to my stomach. He’d acknowledged us? To my dad. Why would he do that? Why would he even . . . I didn’t understand it. Clearly he hadn’t told my dad because he wanted me. He’d told him because he wanted to come clean about having supposed feelings about me. Because he couldn’t live with himself, knowing it was something that was against the company policy and not telling my dad about it. But it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t because he wanted me.
I twisted and picked up my phone again, texting Estelle to thank her for inviting me to her party, but sending her my regrets for not being able to attend. Victor had sent me a text message while I was in Argentina. Three simple words that set my soul aflame.
I miss you.
I hadn’t responded because I was shocked he’d do that, especially with his paranoia of having things traced. I hadn’t called because what I wanted to say to him couldn’t be said over the phone.
My phone rang a few seconds after I’d tossed it.
Estelle.
I almost didn’t answer, but then figured it wouldn’t be fair to her. She seemed like a planner and probably had something specific for the attendees.
“Why aren’t you coming?” she asked.
“I just . . .” I sighed. I could lie, or I could just come out with it, and because I was a shit liar, I came out with it. “I think it will be awkward to see your brother. I need to see him, but I don’t think your party is the right setting.”
“Who cares about him? I invited you, not you and him together. You. Please come. I already made you a heart.”
I closed my eyes, feeling impending tears form behind my lids. “You made a kaleidoscope heart for me?”
She made me a heart, made of broken glass that represents broken hearts and pain and how beautiful the brokenness we carry inside makes us. Why did she have to be so nice? How could she have known how badly I needed something like that right now?
“Of course. You said you liked them,” she said.
I swallowed. “Okay. I’ll just pass by.”
“Yay. See you tomorrow. And remember, pirate.”
“I remember,” I said, smiling as we hung up.
I called Marcus and asked him to pick me up, not because of the media—as I hadn’t seen any—but because he was still on the payroll and I didn’t want to park anywhere. He showed up much sooner than expected.
“You must have been dying to see me again,” I said, opening the door.
He shook his head, but smiled a little. “If Gabriel didn’t pay me so well, I would have taken twenty minutes longer.”
I hid my smile by turning around and locking the door. “You’re getting better at jokes,” I said.
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment coming from you.”
“It’s a very big compliment coming from me. I’m the funniest person you know.”
“I worked for Martin Lawrence once,” he said as he turned on the car.
“Ah. So he will tell me who he’s worked for in the past.”
He shrugged and went back to silence while I sketched out some pirate outfits I thought I could make by tomorrow night. In the end, I decided to buy most of the materials already done, like a white frilly blouse and tall black boots. I’d figure out what I could do with the elastic, black chiffon, black lace fabric, black latex, and basically any black material I could find. After I bought what I needed and got back in the car, I started feeling nervous again. I was going to the party, and I was going to see Victor, and I hadn’t even spoken to him. I’d have to call him. Right? I’d text. He’d texted, so I’d text back. Tonight. Or maybe when I got home.
“Marcus, let’s say you were going to a party, and you knew a girl you used to . . . have something with was also going . . . would you take a date?”
“Maybe. Are you taking one?”
I blinked. “I’m not talking about myself.”
Marcus’s eyes slid toward me. “You’re asking for a friend?”
I pursed my lips. “You know, I didn’t ask Chrissy to come shopping with me because I thought we could use this time to do some quality bonding, but if you’d like me to call her . . .”
His eyes widened. “I wouldn’t.”
“She really seems to like you,” I said, smiling.
“No. I mean, I wouldn’t take a date,” he said, frowning.
“Oh.” I paused. “Well, he’s been seen with a lot of blondes lately.”
“You’ve also been seen with more than one man.”
“That’s different.”
Marcus shrugged.
“It’s different. I didn’t hook up with either of them. I kissed Brent because I was tipsy and Victor was pissing me off, and then I went with Gabriel because I had to,” I said defensively, and looked out the window when Marcus stayed quiet. “And I went to Argentina because I needed to get the hell away. I mean, who the fuck tells somebody’s dad they have feelings for his daughter after they get a promotion? I’m not taking responsibility for his stupidity. I kept our secret.”
Marcus parked in front of my house and left the car on. We stayed quiet for a long moment. It was so quiet, but all I could hear was noise. My dad’s conversation kept replaying in my head, the pictures of Victor flashed in and out in between . . .
“Don’t take a date,” he said after a long time.
“Huh?”
“Don’t take a date to the party. Go by yourself. You’re a fun girl, you can party by yourself, can’t you?”
“Of course I can,” I scoffed. “I don’t need anybody’s help to have fun.” I paused. “Will you go with me?”
Marcus laughed. “Definitely not.”
“I’m scared,” I whispered.