Page 5 of Dirty Money
“You should call him.”
“I’m not gonna call him.”
“But you should.”
“But I’m not gonna.”
Aullie smiled. She and Brittany sat together in two oversized, worn leather chairs inside their local Starbucks. The air smelled pleasingly of coffee and all around them, people of varying ages, genders, and nationalities tapped away on MacBooks and sipped from white cardboard cups. The seasonal flavors were back and Brittany had practically begged Aullie to go get her first pumpkin spice latte of the season. Aullie wasn’t much of a Starbucks fan usually, but she had wanted to tell Brittany that she was right about Weston. Plus, a peppermint mocha had sounded pretty good.
The receipt with Weston’s number scrawled on it was wrinkled slightly and sat on the tiny end table between them. Despite herself, Aullie couldn’t help staring at it as though it was magically going to start talking to her.
“But you have to call him,” Brittany whined.
“I don’t have to do anything,” Aullie said, sucking down some creamy, mint-chocolatey goodness. “Why would I want to go out with some guy who can’t give me his number himself? Ten bucks says the number is actually his weird-ass friend, pretending to be him anyway.”
“But what if he really had to leave? What if he’s like, a surgeon or something? Running off in the dark of the night to go save lives.” Brittany, with her usual dramatic flair, placed a hand over her heart.
“Good, then I’m definitely not interested,” Aullie laughed.
“Oh yeah.” Brittany’s face soured. “I forgot you’re weird and don’t like rich guys.”
It was true. When Aullie’s mom, Evelynn Greene, was in her twenties, she had wanted nothing more than to be an actress. She worked hard slinging coffee and eggs at a diner in the mornings so then she could spend her afternoons on stage, doing plays for small local theatres.
During her moving performance as a schizophrenic in The House of Blue Leaves, she had caught the eye of a man in the audience. The man was Charles Wohrl, a tall, dark, and handsome stereotype with family money who didn’t have to try hard to win her heart.
Two years later, they ended up with the lovely baby; Aulora Jane Wohrl. From the time that she was born to the time she was fourteen, Aulora had lived a wealthy life of big houses, private schools, and nice cars. She hadn’t known anything different until her mother came into her room one day, in tears, explaining that her father had gone.
As it turned out, Evelynn had been so enamored with Charles, that she had accepted his plans to never marry. When it turned out, after fourteen years, that having a family was too much of a financial inconvenience and her father had simply walked out. Some say he moved, some say he just kept himself cleverly hidden but either way, he was gone and Evelynn and Aulora were left penniless.
The women had pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and got Aullie through public school in a tiny apartment. She and her mother were able to make do. But ever since, she had harbored a bitter dislike for rich men. She had even changed her name. Aullie was determined to never depend on a man. Financially or otherwise.
“Well, what if he’s like, a plumber or something? Yeah, like a sexy British emergency plumber who saves people from late night septic tank disasters.” The excitement in Brittany’s voice was endearing, even though the idea was ridiculous.
Aullie appreciated Brittany’s vested interest in her love life, but she really hated dating. Plus, that guy was way too sexy to be a plumber.
“Seriously Britt, it’s probably just his dumb trashy friend. I’m not letting that guy have my number.”
“Well fine,” Brittany said, snatching the receipt off the table and swiping open her phone. “He can have mine.”
“No!” Aullie shouted, springing up from her seat and reaching for the little device as Brittany brought it up to her ear and blocked it with a girly little giggle.
Aullie sat back heavily in her own chair with a resigned sigh. She was fully aware Brittany was unstoppable, once she got moving with an idea.
“It’s ringing,” Brittany hissed, an ecstatic twitter in her voice. Aullie dropped her head into her hands. She was embarrassed for Brittany who, now that she thought about it, had probably never even felt embarrassment before in her life.
Suddenly, Brittany gave an excited little cry and slapped her hand over the microphone. She squealed, “British! Take it.” She tossed her phone at Aullie.
She barely caught the sparkly pink phone and shot a giggling Brittany a death glare. “Hello?” she asked lightly, bringing the phone to her ear. Her heart hammered in her chest.
“Hello? Is someone actually there?” There was a hint of a smile in the smooth British voice and Aullie’s hammering heart was soon met by a flutter of butterflies in her stomach.
“Um, yeah, hi,” she stammered. Brittany looked on, wide eyed with glee, and Aullie turned herself sideways a bit, so she felt she had some semblance of privacy. “It’s, um, Aullie. From the bar, last night? I think your friend left me your number.” She was fully aware and swollen with instant regret for how utterly stupid and ridiculous she sounded.
“Oh, Aullie! Great, I was pretty bummed out when I had to step out and didn’t get a chance to speak with you again. I was somewhat worried that you wouldn’t call.”
“Yeah, well, here I am,” Aullie said with a forced laugh.
He returned the laugh politely. “Yes, here you are. Now I know this is a long shot but is there any chance you’re free tonight? I’d love to take you out to dinner.”
