Page 87 of The Bet
“Why would I?” The tone, and the way he looked at her, told her she had crossed a line. There was something defensive in his words, subtle, but definitely there, and she pushed it to the back of her mind, to examine later when she would be home alone. “Just because he’s my brother and he’s loaded, doesn’t mean I have to go running to him each time I need help.”
“Sorry.”
“I can help, if you want. I’ve analyzed so many case studies, and written up reports afterwards, it would be a piece of cake for me.”
“Everything’s a piece of cake for you,” he replied, chewing. He seemed to be considering her offer. “You must be smart, being at that college. Is it a shock to the system, coming out of high school and going somewhere like that?”
“I didn’t come straight from high-school. I waited a couple of years, to work and save up. Its astronomical, the fees and everything else.”
“I bet.” He cleared his throat. “So that makes you, what? 21?”
“22. I’m in my second year.” Why did he seem so fixated with how old she was?
She leaned forward, taking out a sweet potato wedge and dipping it into the sauce tub. “I can analyze figures and do you some pretty charts and things. I can do those things with my eyes shut.”
“I’d rather you had them open.”
“It would be better. Sure.”
It was the first time he had smiled properly since she’d arrived.
“Have you been to any more of those women's marches?” he asked.
“There hasn't been another one, yet. Why? Are you thinking of coming along?” As if he would.
He coughed, gave her a suitably serious looking face. “Sure. Why not?”
“Why would you go?”
“Huh?”
“Why would you go?”
“To ... show my support.”
“For what?”
“To ...to show that things have been kind of fucked up, lately.”
“Lately?”
“Well, you know, now that it's all starting to come out.”
“What is?” she asked, wondering if he actually knew, or was fumbling around, pretending to be one of the good guys.
“The—uh, the stuff that's been going on in Hollywood. The casting couch, and all that.”
“That's been around for years, allegedly.”
“And I find it shocking that this shit still happens.”
“It's a shocking world we live in.”
He nodded his head. She sensed he was being reticent, as if he was feeling his way around the conversation, mindful of what to say. She wasn't even sure if he had an opinion, or had been aware of much of what had been going on. It remained to be seen whether he was genuinely sympathetic, or merely paying lip service.
After they were done eating, he showed her what he needed doing, and she could tell already that it would be simpler than most of her homework assignments. Helping him made her feel good, as if she had a one up over him. And she liked the idea of that.
She told him she’d have his document done the day after Thanksgiving. It would give him some time to go over what she had done, and he could let her know if it needed further changes before his meeting.
He copied everything onto a memory stick and gave it to her.
