Like a Boss - Annabelle Costa Page 0,50
will prove I’m good enough to be dating a Thayer. The number of hours I spend trying on outfits is a tribute to my growing feelings for Luke. I finally choose a flowered skirt and black fitted blouse that seem to match. Both are practically new, as I don’t have much opportunity to dress up outside of work.
Luke is really tense when he picks me up. His jaw is clenched and he barely pecks me on the cheek as I climb into the car beside him. He looks like he could use a massage, but I’m not in a good position to give him one, so instead, I say, “Can I turn on the radio?”
“Knock yourself out,” Luke says, as he merges onto the highway and I instinctively grab the edge of my seat.
I fiddle with the tuner on the radio. I haven’t listened to the radio in years and I’ve mostly lost touch with new music. I guess that’s the problem with getting into your thirties. I don’t even know who’s popular anymore. Do people still listen to Britney Spears?
“What station is WBCN?” I ask Luke. “I loved that station in college. Alternative music, right?”
“It’s gone,” Luke says. “Shut down. Became a sports station.”
“You’re joking!” I cry. “That’s a tragedy! How could they do that?”
“Boston loves its sports,” Luke glances over at me. “Do you want me to buy the station and bring it back?”
I laugh. “You couldn’t really do that.”
Luke shrugs. Oh God, could he? He probably could. If I asked him to, Luke could buy me a radio station. That’s… kind of cool. Not that I’m impressed by such things.
We drive up to Luke’s parents’ house, and if I was intimidated by Luke’s place, this house is mind-blowing. It’s more of an estate, with a long winding driveway, a pool, and a vast lawn with fruits growing in it. The only thing it’s missing is a moat with a dragon guarding it. I feel the blood draining out of my face as I stare at this mansion. I shouldn’t be here. Luke should be here with, I don’t know, a princess. Not Ellie Jensen from Jersey.
“This is where you grew up,” I manage to ask him as I emerge from the car on rubbery legs.
“No, I grew up in Newton,” he says. “They moved here while I was in college, although we still have the place in Newton. And the house in Martha’s Vineyard, of course.”
Of course.
The house is so beautiful and perfect that the splintered unfinished board leaning against the front steps seems out of place. For a second, I can’t figure out why it’s there, until Luke positions his wheelchair in front of the board and uses it as a ramp to get up the steps. At the top of the board, he struggles a bit to maintain his balance as he jumps up onto the landing.
“No ramp?” I ask.
“My father hasn’t accepted that my inability to walk is permanent,” Luke says. “I have to call the housekeeper whenever I’m coming to visit, and they put out the board for me so I can get inside.”
I stare at him, shocked.
Luke sighs. “You should probably know, my father’s still in denial about my disability. I had to tell him I hired a physical therapist to get me walking again, which of course, I have not. He thinks that if I try hard enough, I’ll walk.”
My heart goes out to Luke. No wonder he seemed so tense in the car earlier.
Luke rings the doorbell, and a few moments later, the pretty woman from the photographs throws open the door. I’m a little relieved it’s not a butler or something. I immediately catch the strong resemblance between mother and son, which makes me like Mrs. Thayer, because of course, I like Luke.
“Luke, sweetheart!” she cries as she bends down to hug him. Mrs. Thayer may be a trophy wife and her face may be lifted to the hilt and her boobs filled with silicone, but I don’t doubt for a second that she loves Luke. She hugs him way too long for it to be phony. “I missed you so much, darling! You need to visit more often.”
“I’ll visit more often when you get a decent ramp to the front door,” Luke says pointedly.
Mrs. Thayer blushes, then lays her eyes on me. She gives me a quick once-over and her face lights up. “This must be Ellie!” she cries. I’m pleased Luke told her about me, and it