of the fact that we’ve spent every evening together enjoying each other’s company… and body.
“Will do! Goodnight, y’all,” he says and disconnects.
“I’d get out and open your door for you, but if you’re looking me in the eye right now, that means your perfect little body is precariously perched atop my running board. Get in, goddess. I can’t wait to hear about your night,” I tell her, and she grins and hops down then rounds the hood of the truck to get in.
When she’s all buckled in, purse in her lap, she pulls a wad of cash out and spreads it out like a fan. My eyebrows go up when I see they’re all hundreds except for one twenty. “Three hours, Neil. Three hours of playing dress up with a bunch of real-life Barbie dolls, and they hand me this.” She squeals, shoving it at me. “It can’t be real, right? This is too good to be true. Can you like, look at them and see if they’re fake? I mean, I’ve never actually seen these newer hundred-dollar bills in person before, so it could be Monopoly money for all I know, but it smells real. Surely they couldn’t fake that very distinct smell, right?”
She’s trembling with excitement and nervousness, and I flip on the overhead lights, holding the bills up one by one to take a good and close look. I hand them back to her, and she grips them tight while she waits for my verdict.
“That’s definitely not Monopoly money, goddess. Congratulations. You just earned your first paycheck—well, not paycheck. Payout. But you know what I mean,” I tell her, and she squeals again, flapping the cash in the air. I can’t help but laugh at her giddiness, some of the uneasiness I felt earlier calming a bit.
I turn off the lights inside the cab and put the truck in Drive, pulling out of the parking spot and making our way toward the gate. It opens automatically at the exit, and we pull onto the main road. “So tell me all about it,” I urge.
“Well, I showed up, and this place was crazy on the inside. Like, empty out a giant mansion and turn one of the big-ass great-rooms into a bar with a stage and like… the huge fancy formal dining room into a dance club with all the lights and DJ booth and all that. That’s really all I saw before I found where I was supposed to be. I suppose it was maybe the staff quarters or something that they turned into a humongous dressing room. But I’m not talking about some little changing area with a mirror and secondhand vanity. I’m saying this thing was a girly-girl’s dream. With an entire wall of clothes. Like, take all of Barbie’s different outfits, and hang them on a rack that reaches from one wall to the other. And then the mirrors with their perfect lighting and salon chairs,” she says dreamily, making me smile. “It was amazing.”
“Sounds like it was right up your alley, baby. What about the people?” I prompt.
She huffs out a laugh. “Well, when I first got there, there were only two girls so far, because I got there early. And they weren’t sure about me at first, because hello, I’m awkward A-F. But once we got down to it and they saw the work I did, it’s like they instantly accepted me. I just had to prove my worth a little, and the mean girls attitude just disappeared. I suppose that’s what it’s like around women anyway. I wouldn’t know. I used to be top dog in high school, but I was never a bitch.”
“I don’t think you’d even know how to be a bitch, goddess,” I tell her, meaning she’s such a good person through and through, but when I look at her, she has her eyebrows raised.
“Oh, I know how to be a bitch. If anyone lifted one finger to fuck with my baby sister, I would ruin their fucking life. Bet.” And then her voice lowers. “Well, except for what happened with Brandon. Seth kind of had to deal with that one.” Her eyes meet her wringing hands in her lap, and for the first time, I sense a feeling of guilt radiating off her. My brows furrow, thinking that through.
“Astrid, surely you don’t feel like any of that was your fault? What happened to Twyla was because that fucker was a sadistic, obsessive motherfucker. You had nothing to