Kitsuwon. He cannot do this to me right now. His friendship with Jack is going to fucking kill me. I imagine Jack strutting in and smiling that hundred-watt smile as he says, “Beautiful people” to everyone—and I can’t.
Not today.
Not now. Not when I’m setting boundaries tomorrow.
“We love Jack; of course you can invite him,” Jane says, sitting across Thatcher’s lap on a chair.
My head dizzies, and I skate a hand down my mouth.
I feel Farrow and Donnelly eyeing the living fuck out of me.
Come on, Oliveira. I go to speak, but breath is tight in my chest.
“Nah,” Donnelly says coolly. “There’s not enough food.”
“There’s plenty here,” my brother pipes in with knotted brows.
Farrow opens his mouth, about to slingshot another excuse, but I locate my vocal cords. Loudly, I declare to everyone, “I’d rather not see Highland right now.”
The rooftop deadens, except for Ripley babbling in his dad’s arms and the music speakers blaring “Chega” by DUDA BEAT, Mateus Carrilho, and Jaloo. Another of my song additions.
Absolutely love Kitsuwon as my boss. I’d move mountains for Akara. He cares and would put his ass over hot coals for my ass, so I’d do it for him. Not all men I’ve worked under in security were like that.
Did something happen?
I bake under embarrassment and the sun. “Yeah.” I pick myself off the patio. “I made a mistake and asked to kiss a straight guy.”
The Moretti brothers, plus my little brother, and Akara stare dumbfounded and shocked.
Way too many people know now about the rejection.
But there’s no turning back.
“Look, you can invite Jack,” I tell everyone. “I don’t mind, but just give me a warning beforehand. Because I’m leaving if you do.”
Akara is quick to say, “We don’t have to invite him, Oscar.”
I nod once.
So deep in my feelings, that I tell them I’m going to use the bathroom. But I take my two books and just head inside to cool off.
14
JACK HIGHLAND
“I just don’t get why you live in a closet,” Jesse complains over the phone, his choice of words icing me over, even if he’s just referring to the size of my apartment. “My surfboard can barely fit next to yours.”
I ride the elevator up thirty-three floors to the penthouse. My camera hangs at my hip, the strap across my chest, and I remind myself to breathe. In, out.
Ride the swell.
“I don’t know why you brought your board, Jess,” I tell my little brother. “You’re my PA, when do you think you’ll have time to drive an hour and a half to New Jersey and surf?”
“After doing PA stuff.” He pauses. “I’ll have some breaks di ba?” Di ba means right?
I’ll have some breaks, right?
I smile and stay quiet, letting him sweat it out.
“There are labor laws, Kuya,” Jesse says, sounding more worried.
“You’ll get breaks,” I smile more, pressing the phone firmer to my ear. “But you didn’t come out here for a vacation. I need your help, remember. And you need this on your resume.”
Since Ali and Ambrose said no to my pitch yesterday, I decided rather than hire a stranger, I’d hire someone I trust with secrets.
My brother.
Jesse flew in on a red-eye last night, and now he’s finishing summer school online.
Over the phone, he mutters under his breath, and the elevator doors glide open. I land in the empty private foyer facing the penthouse’s front door.
“Ano?” I ask what? to Jesse.
“I get why Mama’s worried about you now. She doesn’t want you to turn out like them, working super long hours. That’s actually why she let me come out here, you know. Maybe I’ll be a good influence on you, she said.”
I smile. “Mama did not say that.”
“She implied it.”
She’s more understanding of me working hard than Jesse slacking, which is probably why she let him come out to Philly. For the opportunity.
Can’t pass it up.
I pull the phone down to check the time: 7:54 a.m.—I’m supposed to meet Oscar at 8. “I have to go,” I tell Jesse. Even though I’m early, I feel late. “Make yourself at home. Pantry is stocked—oh and my neighbors were hijacking my WiFi and slowing the internet, so I had to change the password since the last time you were here. The new one is LeChatRouge0502.”
“How do you spell it?”
I spell out le chat rouge and describe the capitalization.
“Why 0502? Don’t you usually go for 1118 in passwords?” 11/18 is my birthday. November 18th.