10
I was broke. There were no two ways about it. And as much as I tried to tell myself the money I'd saved would last us until I got another job, I was scared. I had always been poor, that was just part of my life. Even still, I had never not had some form of income; regardless of how small that may have been.
To top that off, Aaron's warning kept echoing in my head. What if he was one hundred percent right? What if I couldn't pay my share of the bills? And worse still, what if this was the turning point and Edward became sick of me? Would he bother to stick by me?
Or would he find some rich guy who could really give him the things he deserved?
Even though Edward had assured me that his apartment was now our apartment, I couldn’t help but feel out of place whenever I stepped foot in there. His place was just so much better than my old place. From the expensive dining table and designer furniture to the brass plated dinnerware and crystal glass sets. It all screamed ‘you don’t belong.’
It was like we were living in Barney's or something. I was still getting used to the luxurious living, and though Edward made me feel at home, I just knew I didn’t belong.
It was stupid of me, but I tried to keep my financial concerns, and the fact I'd been fired by Aaron, a secret for as long as I could. I’d put on a smiley face when he was around, pretending that everything was just peachy.
I was as happy-go-lucky as I could be, but he could see right through it. I should have known from the start that my ploy wouldn’t work. As he said, he could tell things about me.
"Did you feed Sasha?" he asked.
"Nope. I can't believe you named your plant."
"He's not just a plant. He's a fern. Quiet, you'll hurt his feelings."
"But why did you name him Sasha?"
"Why not? Mrs. Alston gave him to me, and that's what she called him so—When'd you get fired?" he asked me one evening as casually as if he was asking about the weather. I almost choked on my dinner when I realized what he said.
"What?"
Edward spent his days working at a high-end retail shop. I thought I was being amazingly sneaky, leaving the house at the same time, so he thought I was going to work, then returning only after I was sure he wouldn’t be back, but I guess it hadn't worked.
In my defense, I hadn’t been idling this whole time. I'd been spending my days pounding the pavement, answering want ads and working every angle I could to get work. My plan was to slip into another job without Edward evening realizing that I was unemployed in the first place. Only then was I going to tell him that I had been fired. But as of yet, there hadn’t been so much as a bite.
"If we're going to get married, we should start by being honest with each other," he continued in his casual manner.
"The other day," I confessed, dropping my fork and leaning back.
He frowned at me. "When were you going to tell me?"
"I didn't want you to worry," I said, picking up the fork and scraping the plate.
"Didn't I teach you not to play with your food?" He knelt next to me, looking up. "What else are you hiding from me?"
"Nothing. And I wasn't hiding it." I pushed to my feet. I didn't like being questioned or cornered; even if I deserved it.
"Then what would you call it?" He put his hands on his hips.
"Protecting you," I said, turning away. It was true that I didn't want him to worry I wouldn't be able to pay my part of the bills. I was also more than a little embarrassed by the fact that I had zero money and he was footing the bill for this amazing apartment. I knew that he had every right to be mad.
Sure, we were fine for now, but what if I couldn't find another job? Then what?
"I'm a big boy, and I'm not the fragile little petunia you think I am. I can hold my own," he told me, approaching me with caution.
"I know baby. It's just… I was raised a certain way."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked me.
"Everyone's supposed to pull their own weight." That's what my father used to tell me. And when you grew up as poor as me you really had no choice but to do just that. As much as of a hard ass as he was, and abusive as he was to me and my mother, he worked hard.
"Well, I was raised a certain way, too. If you have a good man, who treats you right, who's faithful to you, you stick by your man no matter what, period," he said, grabbing me by the hand.
"I love you, but—"
"There is no 'but' in 'I love you,'" he said. "Now, I've got a little saved up, too. It won't last forever, so we'll use what we can until we get on our feet. You know what I think?"
"What?" I asked, not liking the sound of it. I wasn't used to eating humble pie.
As much as I hate to admit it, I knew my fiancé was right. Edward thought of us as partners already, just like I did. And to him, that was more than just words. We were real partners, through thick and thin. I should have known Edward would never give up on us so easily. As always, I had let Aaron get to me again.
"You know what I think, Cody? This is a sign. You're way more talented than Aaron. You're way more charismatic, and I've heard you sing in the shower. Your voice is like an angel."
I blushed at this compliment. No one had ever told me that before, with that level of sincerity. I mean, Edward told me I was a good singer from time to time, but he had to say that kind of stuff.
I sang loud and clear in the shower because I was alone in there. In the shower, there were no judgmental eyes glaring back at me. No snickers. No voice from my father telling me I was worthless. I needed to remind myself that that was the past and Edward was the future.
I looked at him, so feisty and strong, so powerful. He made me want to be a better person.
It was turning me on.
"You could be as big as The Rolling Stones. I know it. And I'm never wrong about this kind of stuff. You've got music. You're a star, Cody, and music is your gift. You can change the world with it. I can feel it. You know what I want you to do tonight?" asked Edward.
"What, babe?" I moved closer as my cock swelled in my pants. His confidence in me was incredibly sexy, and I hoped he had the same thing in mind that I did.
"Go down to Nipples and get that manager to book you as a solo artist."
He barked orders like he was my manager or something. And the thing was that he was one hundred percent serious.
"Just me and my bass? I don't think so." I shook my head, but I liked his enthusiasm.
"I'll play piano," he said firmly.
"Darling, you've only been playing for a few months. You only know what I've taught you and that's not much."
"Bull." He stamped his feet.
"What?" I chuckled, not taking him seriously. Now I knew he was kidding.
"Bull. I've been playing piano since I was four," he confessed, blushing as he did.
"What?"
"I only asked you for lessons back then because I thought you were cute and I figured that was the only way you'd spend time with me."
"Jeez." I laughed. "You serious?"
"Grandma's the interim director of Connecticut Harmonic Orchestra. That's why I always yell at her because she thinks I'm wasting my talents in Portland or as she likes to call it, the middle of nowhere."
"Now, who's been hiding things?" I teased, pulling him closer and kissing him on the forehead. Who knew my baby had so much talent? And the fact that he had pretended not to know how to play just to meet me? It made my heart soar, and my crotch swell.
"Do this for me. Do this for you. Do this for us," he told me. "Go there. Sing for that manager. He'll see your talent. I know he will."
It was funny, but Edward was the exact opposite of Aaron. Where Aaron was always putting himself first, even ahead of the band, Edward wanted nothing but the best for me. Having someone believe in me like that, and mean it, was exactly what I needed. But even still, I had been down so long that I still wasn't so sure. "Let me think about it."
"Think about this. My grandma is flying into town tomorrow, and she wants to meet you," he said, leaning against my chest casually as if he were discussing fabric softener. I remembered how hard it was for me to work up the courage for my mom to meet him. It seemed he wasn’t anywhere near as panicked.
"Wait, what?" I lifted his chin to look at him, my eyes widening.
"You better wear a suit. Like me, she can tell things about people." He patted my chest and walked away.
~~~
"You nervous?" he asked as we rode up the penthouse suite's private elevator. The fact that we were riding in a penthouse suite’s private elevator should have answered his question right there.
"No," I said, clearing my throat and looking at the cherry wood paneling.
The elevator was literally lined with gold. I wondered what type of movie stars rode in it too. I was probably the poorest person ever to step foot inside.
"Me too." He straightened my blue tie. I hated wearing ties, but he promised it'd only be for one evening and I was prepared to do anything I could to try and impress.
He helped me dress, of course, picking specifically what I was going to wear. He even went so far as to stitch together some of my old outfits in an attempt to make it look perfect. I was quite impressed by that little touch. I knew he could sew well from all the equipment he had in the house, but this was unbelievable.
The doors opened onto the grand marble lobby as we were greeted by the floor’s butler. I don’t know why I was surprised by this. Of course, there was a butler. He wore a crisp black suit, cufflinks, and a little bow tie. It was then that I realized the butler was dressed better than I was.
It was like we were on MTV's Cribs or Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
"Mr. White, Mr. Lohan, I presume? Right this way." He led us to the grand doorway, his white gloves pressing the doorbell.
"Man," I mumbled under my breath, having a hard time registering where I was.
A young maid opened the door to greet us. This lead to the biggest hotel suite I'd ever seen in my life. I mean, the living room was larger than the trailer I grew up in.
Not that I'd ever really seen one anyway, except for the movies. But as I stood in the room, trying to take the whole thing in, I had to catch my breath. Fit for a superstar. This was definitely where I fantasized about us staying one day when I made it big. Funny enough, it reminded me of those times that I used to stand on my apartment roof and imagine that I had made it, although this was slightly different.
It had a wrap-around floor to ceiling windows, a view of Portland and it smelled like roses.
I could see the older lady's frame as she stood with her back to us. I couldn’t tell if it was done in an attempt to snob me, or just a coincidence.
She was wearing a business suit, like Armani or Chanel or something. I'm not too good at fashion, but it was more than I could afford to give to Edward. It probably cost more than my entire wardrobe put together.
Her jewelry was even fancier than the type that Edward wore.
"Take a seat, please," she barked, her husky voice echoing in the hall, her back still turned to us.
"Yes, ma'am," I said as respectfully as I could. Edward, ignoring her command, charged ahead, shoes and all.
"Hey witch," he announced loud and clear as he approached her.
"Why do you put me through so much? Can't you see I'm an old woman?" the lady said, turning around finally.
His grandma could have been a senator or the First Lady. Her makeup was sparse but to perfection. I’d never seen anyone so elegant. She looked much younger than the seventy years Edward told me she was. Her hair was shock silver as I assumed she was much too dignified to color it, but even still, it looked as if she'd walked out of a beauty salon.
"Through so much terror? I do it for the same reason you try to control my life and make it a living hell," Edward answered back, crossing his arms.
"Tramp," his grandma said, curtly. Those words surprised me coming out of the mouth of such an elegant lady.
"Hag," Edward answered back, putting his hands on his hips.
"Waste of space on God's green earth," she shot back, matching her hands on her hips too.
"The devil's own personal servant," Edward quipped, stepping forward.
"I ought to—"
"You ought to what? Gum me to death?"
"I hate you," his grandma said with a smirk on her face.
"I hate you, too," Edward responded kissing her.
"I see you haven't been starving yourself," his grandmother said, looking him up and down.
"This is my fiancé," Edward responded, changing the subject. Interesting, even with his grandma, his weight was still a sore spot. I made a mental note of that; there were some lines I never wanted to cross.
The whole exchange caught me off guard at first. Initially, I assumed that these two people really hated each other. But as the insults built, I should have known they were joking. Edward had a dark sense of humor, so it was a relief to see who he got it from. It was like a glimpse into what Edward and I would be like forty years from now.
"So, you're the one that's going to take my grandson away from me," the lady said, moving toward me and narrowing her eyes. "My only reason for living, the beam of my existence, my seed and reason for my early death."
I smiled, hoping that like Edward, this was all part of her sense of humor. She was intimidating. But I could see beneath that that she was a woman who truly loved her grandson. I just wasn’t sure yet where I fit into that equation.
"A pleasure, Ms. Lohan, I'm Cody White." I took her well-manicured hand and shook softly, only to be matched by a strong handshake, stronger than what I was expecting.
"I know who you are, darling. Social security number 582-55-5555, born on September 5th, 1983 to Nona and David White. High school dropout, end of the road job from which you just got fired. I know it all," she said, not missing a beat.
"Grandmother, must you?" Edward protested, crossing his arms in a huff.
"At least he's cute, much better than that last fiancé you brought to me," she told Edward, not even looking back.
My eyebrows bunched up. "Last fiancé?"
"He didn't tell you?" the older woman said, stirring the pot as she smirked. "Interesting."
"Grandma, please," Edward protested even as he avoided my gaze. I gave him the ‘we-need-to-talk’ expression, knowing that even without looking at me he’d be able to sense it.
"That's why he moved to this Godforsaken city, besides an attempt to give me a heart attack. He was running away from Herbert Merryweather Chambers, IV, or the V, or whatever it was. He was rich and powerful, came from old money, but the ugliest man I'd seen in my life."
"Grandmother!" Edward protested again.
"Well, he was. You know it, I know it, the world knows it. I just feel sorry that he has to wake up every morning and look at that mug in the mirror. Now, let me get a good look at you, Cody White. Yep, he comes from good stock. German, I'm guessing, with a little bit of Czech and a dash of Irish. It'll have to do."
"How did you know?" I didn't know much about my parents' background, but she was right on the money.
"A little hobby of mine." She poured herself a beverage. "Drink?"
"No, ma'am." It was pretty obvious that for this exchange I was going to need my wits and then some. No sense in making it harder than it ought to be.
"Hobby of yours? That and investigating people's deepest darkest secrets without their permission," Edward added.
"Well, you have to know who you're dealing with. Now, dear Cody. Let's discuss what you came here for, my blessing right?"
"Well, yeah," I said, staring at the floor for a second.
"Stand up straight, young man. Don't slouch."
I automatically did what I was told. As she looked me up and down, I felt like I was in middle school again. Or like I was a new car, fresh off the lot and she was deciding on whether or not to purchase me.
"It's simple really," she went on. "You don't have any money. You don't come from wealth. You've just lost your job. You really have nothing to offer him but a roll in the hay; but the question is despite all that, do you have talent? Do you have a future that can support my grandson? That's what I'm here to find out."
She turned and strolled toward the living room, grabbing a Class A guitar. Holding it one hand like a hammer, she strutted back toward me, handing it to me.
"Play something and sing. Sing for your life, sing to win my blessing, or he's not marrying you. I'll forbid it. And you'd better be good."
I took it nervously, swallowing hard. Edward told me that she was a little intense, but I had no idea it would be like this. I was literally auditioning for my fiancé’s hand in marriage. I looked at Edward, who was nervously avoiding my eyes. I wondered if he knew this was going to happen.
"By all means, take your time," his grandmother said. "Let me die of old age before you begin."
There was only one choice.