Page 16 of King of Nothing

“Where have you been?” she asks in a worried tone.

I throw my keys on the counter, along with my clutch, and step out of my heels.

I met Cleo when I was a cocktail waitress, fresh off the heartache of losing my scholarship and having to drop out of college. At the time, I’d thought I was making good money with tips from high rollers, but Cleo was the one who told me I could make more money on one date than I made in a whole month’s worth of tips. I remember so clearly the way she took me by the chin and said, pretty girl like you shouldn’t be working so hard in this dump.

She introduced me to a life I didn’t know about before, and now I just jeopardized everything because I’d let my guard down.

“What’s wrong?” she asks when I don’t answer.

“I messed up,” I say, my voice small, and I work to keep my chin from quivering.

“What happened? Did someone hurt you?” She inspects me for damage, but there’s nothing to find on the outside.

“I need to see Ellen,” I say, walking into my bedroom and peeling my dress off.

“You don’t just go see Ellen,” Cleo reminds me as she follows me into the closet where I pull on a pair of jeans. “Unless something really big happened,” she says ominously.

“Darren Walker happened, that’s what,” I begin to explain while I throw a shirt over my head.

“You mean the son of Senator Kerry Walker, the one that just died in that helicopter crash?” she asks in shock, pointing towards the living room where the news is playing on the TV.

“I already know I made a huge mistake, and he told Ellen about us in order to get me to marry him so he can get his inheritance.” Saying those words just makes the anger grow hotter inside me.

“Excuse me, um, what century are we in?” Cleo asks, rearing her head back in confusion.

“It’s a long story.” I roll my eyes as I sit on the bed and pull on a pair of high heeled boots.

“I just can’t believe you would jeopardize your contract—for what?” she asks angrily. “A fucked-up playboy who gets drunk and fucks escorts when he finds out his parents died?”

I wonder what she would say about me if Cleo knew the reason I went into that alley in the first place; because when he quoted Emerson on that table, it took me back to that place in my life when I needed some inspiration – and his father gave that to me.

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You’re not really going to marry him, are you?” Cleo asks.

“I need the money.” I take a minute to let it all sink in. “But I’m not just gonna lie down.”

I grab my purse as I head into the kitchen.

“By the way, this came for you.” Cleo motions to a box on the table.

Inside, I find a dozen red roses tied together with a ribbon. On the top is a handwritten card.

Hopefully we will get to finish our date soon.

Xoxo,

Jonathan

Cleo lifts her eyebrows at me. “Who are they from?”

They’re too big to fit, but I dump them in the garbage can anyway, leaving the long-stemmed roses hanging over the edge.

“No one important.”

I’ve only been to Ellen’s office once, and that was to sign my contract. Everything else has been done over the phone or in public somewhere to keep up the pretense that we were two unassuming people having coffee together.

I was just a young girl who never worried about how small my waist was or how large my breasts were, but I did know what beauty was, and how it could make you feel anything but beautiful. To me, growing up, beauty wasn’t something I wanted to be known for. It made me visible, and that wasn’t a good thing.

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