MARCELLO
Lacey
Kami’s email came back with everything I needed to trap her moron of a boyfriend.
I checked over his schedule, choosing his DJ guest appearance at a club called Bossa Nova Civic Club on Myrtle Avenue. He would be there tomorrow, Saturday night, and it was only about half an hour from my place. I could go and be home in time to watch an episode of something on Netflix.
I just had to work up the nerve to go alone and boldly hit on a guy while suggesting we go somewhere quiet, so he could take the bait. The moment he said, “Yeah, let’s get a hotel or go back to my place,” it’d be done. That was what I’d told myself anyway.
“Hey, kiddo. You going to Marcia’s party tonight?” Mr. La Croix popped his head in my office.
“Yeah, I’m just finishing this up.” I pointed to the bug bar presentation on my computer screen.
“How’s that going?”
“Great.” For the first time, I wasn’t lying. I’d discovered something vital to the sales pitch, something that would win over celebrity endorsements. It wouldn’t convince the likes of Marcia, but people like Monty would be all over it. If I was being honest, it had even won me over on the benefits of the protein. Not that I’d ever eat that shit again.
“So you’ll be ready for Monday?”
“Totally.” I wrinkled my nose by accident, making him laugh.
“Good to see you’re still feeling the burn.” He laughed harder.
“I’m not gonna lie; I have no desire to eat this, but the benefits are surprisingly enticing.”
“I know.” He beamed. “I’ve been eating a bar a day, and I’m loving it. I feel amazing and I think the anti-aging benefits are starting to kick in.”
“Gross.” I laughed too.
“Only gross if you think about it while you eat. Or if some jerk tells you it’s bugs while you’re midchew.” He winked. “See you later at the house, then.” He waved and walked away, greeting some other guy in the hall.
Hennie came scurrying into the office after he left. “Did you get it figured out?” She closed the door. She was far more stressed about the whole thing than I was. Which was a lot.
“Yeah. He’s DJing at a club in Brooklyn.”
“Near your place?”
“No, but it’s a good place to go. Busy and lots of flashing lights, and once he’s done his set, he’ll be drinking. I’ll slip in then, get him a drink, and try to get the footage of him asking me back to a hotel.”
“I don’t know how you’re coping with this. I’m a ball of nerves, and you haven’t even gone in yet.” She rubbed her hands on her pants like they were sweating.
“I’m a ball of nerves, too, but at the same time I kinda wanna catch him so Kami will be free.”
“You’re like a superhero. You need a Test Dummy costume.” She was way too excited about this.
“Right, I’ll have one made.” I moaned. “A wig, which I hate, loads of makeup, which I don’t love, and super-showy clothes, which I hate the most. With uncomfy shoes and half my ass hanging out.”
“I can’t imagine you dressed like that.”
“That’s the whole point.”
“I guess so, huh. Are you still going to Marcia’s tonight?” She leaned on the desk.
“I am. I don’t want to, but I have to put in friend time or she gets needy. I mean, I want to hang with her—I just don’t want to do the party thing again. I’m tired. I worked hard on that cricket project these last two days, and I’ve already gone out Monday and Wednesday this week. I don’t know how they all do it. I guess not having real jobs helps.”
“How’d the crickets work out?”
“Good. I found my angle. What are you doing tonight?”
“Not much.” Her cheeks flushed.
“What?”
“Nothing, seriously. It’s just a movie with a friend.”
“A friend?” I narrowed my gaze. “Which one? Why are you being cagey—oh my God, my brother asked you out last night!” I squealed, not excited. “I fed you chicken potpie, and you cavorted with the enemy and said yes!” It slipped out.
“Grandma gave me pie, and he’s not the enemy. He’s adorable. I couldn’t say no. He has cancer. How do you say no to someone with cancer?” She covered her eyes. “And I really like him as a friend. Which I’m trying not to process, because he’s, like, eleven and I’ve almost graduated college.”
“Dude!” I jumped up. “He’s in high school!” I had given my consent; I needed to stop, but I couldn’t.
“I know!” she shouted back, her face completely red. “But it’s just a movie. And he said he wanted company. I couldn’t say no. Gun to my head, I would have said yes even if he weren’t sick.” She gasped and covered her mouth, like her oversharing was scaring her too.
“Oh my God!” I felt a little sick and yet a little happy that she might like him back. But mostly sick. “You’re almost four years older than him.”
“Which wouldn’t matter if he were in his first year of college, but your parents held him back because he’s a November baby. And he’s crazy smart and mature for his age. Which is something creepy people say, and I know that; I hear myself. If you want to hate me for it, I’ll go hang out this one time and then never again.”
“No.” I shivered and tried not to throw up again as I recalled our bargain. “I can’t cock block my brother.”
“It’s not like that. We’re friends.”
“No. It’s more than that. And it’s fine. He’s a senior, and you’re twenty-one, and it’s not even four years. It’s not creepy for a guy to be your age and dating a girl his age, so why is the reverse creepy? It’s just weird because we’re friends and he’s my brother. But I get it. He’s awesome, and he does have cancer.” I winced. “Which is why I will ask you to go easy on him. He doesn’t do anything partway. If he likes you, he really likes you. So, try to take it slow.”
“I will. I swear.” She seemed adamant enough.
“And you have to keep this to yourself so I don’t die from TMI. Seeing my brother dating is like punishment for my soul. He’s still my little bro.”
“It’s not a date.”
“It’s completely a date. To him this is a date.”
“Fine, but I won’t go unless I have your blessing.” She sounded so tense.
I held my breath for ten seconds, really wanting to say no, but not able to bring myself to do that since I’d already given my blessing to Martin.
“Yeah. You do. That doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to give you loads of shit for it.” I caved. For Martin.
She leaped up and hugged me. Her fingers trembled as they dug in. “I was so worried what you’d say. You’re my friend, and hos before bros and all.”
“Right.” I had to admit that if anyone would treat my brother with respect and kindness, it’d be Hennie. And if anyone deserved a bit of a distraction from his cancer treatments, it was Martin. I had to accept that this was going to happen, being an older sister to a cute little brother and having cute older friends. Of course one day it would happen.
I just never imagined it would be Hennie.
I let go and gave her a firm smile, the kind I faked but that looked real. I’d practiced them. “Honestly, I hope he has some fun. And I hope you do too.”
“Thanks, Lacey. I owe ya one for not freaking the hell out. I think I might have if I were in your shoes.”
“Let’s just leave it there. I super don’t want to hear any details. At all. In fact, when we talk about the fun you’re having, can you lie and call him someone else?”
“Italian exchange student named Marcello?” She answered way too fast, like she’d been plotting this forever.
“Love it.” I laughed and grabbed my purse. “Give him a kick in the butt for me,” I said as we walked to the elevator.
“You can’t kick people who have cancer. I’m not doing that,” she said quietly.
“No, of course not,” I agreed, also quietly.
Since it was a Friday, we always left early, per Mr. La Croix’s rules. On Friday, the day ended at two instead of four thirty. It was the little things like that that made this an amazing place to work. He had others, too, like team-building week, where we spent the week away somewhere. He didn’t do team-building weekends; that was our time. He paid a much higher wage than most PR and marketing firms. And he gave his employees amazing benefits, like a year off for maternity with pay, and full medical and dental coverage. Working for him was like working for a saint or living in Norway or Canada. I honestly didn’t have a single complaint.
So when he asked me to jump, even for dirty bug bars, I didn’t ask how high. I shot for the stars and hoped it was enough.
Marcia had no idea how amazing her dad was. Or her life.
And though I tried to help her find something to be passionate about, I told myself it was my job to love her for who she was.
The same way I loved Hennie even though she was going to spend the summer hanging with my baby brother.
No.
His name was Marcello, and he was Italian, and I didn’t know him.
I needed that lie.
I continued wearing that fake-ass smile all the way to the main floor and all the way out of the building as I waved her off and started walking away.
Marcello.
His name was Marcello.
When I got to Marcia’s, I couldn’t help but unleash my latest woes on her.
“That’s kinda gross. I’m sorry, but it is.” Marcia shuddered visibly as I finished the tale of Martin and Hennie.
Martin. My baby brother. Our baby brother.
His name wasn’t Marcello, and I wasn’t getting past it.
“When he said he liked her, I was sort of thrown. I didn’t think anything would come of it, but I also didn’t think she would ever consider going out with him,” I said as I moaned into the mojito Moser had made me. “This is amazing.” I put all the focus on my drink and let Senor eat some of the chips in front of me.
“I just can’t imagine Martin dating,” Marcia muttered, glancing around the kitchen and dining area of her spacious penthouse, checking on Girt’s progress with preparing for the party. The rooftop deck with its huge lounging area, dining area, and even a hot tub overlooking the city was exactly the sort of place to host fun preclub gatherings. Not to mention the massive second floor that had all the bedrooms, a theater room, and her dad’s home office. Her parents wouldn’t even know we were here if they stayed in their rooms. Not that her mom would be home on a Friday night at the start of summer.
“He’s still in high school. What is she thinking?”
“I don’t know. I can’t talk about it anymore. I’ve puked enough to last a lifetime lately.” And that was the truth about that.
I needed him to be Marcello. And I needed this party to be a distraction from the latest Martin saga.
“Who all’s coming anyway?” I asked as we sat at the counter and waited for everyone to show up.
“Oh, just a few friends.” Marcia got that look in her eyes, the one I dreaded. It meant she was up to something.
“Which friends?” I asked, dubious of her telling me the truth. She loved surprises. Not when people surprised her, but surprising others. And it wasn’t always a surprise you wanted. Sometimes it genuinely was for her own entertainment.
“The usual suspects. Kami, Carmen, Jo. Plus Elysia and Chloe.” She was purposely trying to sound nonchalant. That was always bad. “I also invited a couple of other people you might not know. Friends of friends.”
“Fine, be cagey. But if this turns into some ‘hook Lacey up with some creepy, spoiled douchebag’ thing because you want me to marry well so I don’t have to work anymore, I’m leaving.” I was nervous about Kami’s boyfriend being there, but I knew he’d hang with the guys around the fire and drink beers, ignoring me. I was that girl. I blended. Unless Marcia got ahold of me and forced me into clothes that showed off what she liked to refer to as the real estate. I preferred being the chameleon.
“Whatever. You and I both know I’ve stopped trying that. Your love of work and wearing those ridiculous business suits is too much, for even me, to tackle.” She rolled her eyes at my raspberry suit dress, plucking at it like she always did. “There isn’t a man in the world rich enough to stop you from working, or wearing this.”
“Prince Harry.” I smiled, toying with her while catching Girt offering me an approving and slightly seedy nod from the corner. “I’d quit working to be a philanthropist and perform all my royal duties for him. That ginger hair and his naughty smile and scruffy beard.” I nodded along with my verbal fantasy. “Everyone hated him after those Vegas photos leaked and he was naked, jacking around with that blonde. But I thought it improved him. Made him even more accessible and human.”
“You’re disgusting. Who gets hot over naked photos of a guy with another girl? And beards are so gross.”
“Normally beards are gross. But there’s something about a military prince with a beard that makes me hot.” I laughed at us both, her cringing face and my dirty out-loud romantic perversions. “Plus, haven’t you ever wondered what a beard feels like against your—”
“Lacey!” She covered her eyes. “The germs! Plus beard hair means body hair. Gross.” She gagged, like, actually heaved. “I can’t.” She waved her hands like tiny white flags; she was tapping out.
But all of it made me laugh harder.
Body hair was at the top of Marcia’s zero-tolerance list. She was a biter, and the idea of getting hair in her teeth made her want to die.
Poor Monty had been getting half his body waxed since they started dating. His life was hard.
As if thinking Monty’s name had summoned him, the elevator dinged and out he strolled, looking like a perfect specimen. “Ladies, happy Friday!” He sauntered in with lilies and a box of chocolates from Jacques’s. He handed Marcia the flowers and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he placed the box of chocolates on the counter in front of where I sat, while Senor hopped off me and attacked him, jumping at his leg and demanding attention. Even the dog loved him.
I tried not to sigh as I pulled the chocolates to me. “You shouldn’t have,” I lied, and lifted the lid, leaning forward and smelling.
“Of course I should. Men shouldn’t enter houses with empty hands.” He kissed Marcia again. “Or hearts.”
We both swooned, and she didn’t even care when I did.
I popped a chocolate marshmallow in my mouth and closed my eyes, letting it own me. Jacques Torres was the best. His candy and cookies made me happy on a level no man had ever been able to match.
“You have to share. I’ll let you smell my flowers.” My moment was broken by Marcia’s greedy fingers stealing a chocolate. She moaned and grabbed a second one. “One day I swear, I’m going to wake up and find out you got your wings for all this and now you’ve gone to heaven and none of this relationship was real.” She laughed, covering her mouth.
“She’s probably right,” I added, placing a cherry caramel in my mouth next.
“Yes, because God dispatches angels to wealthy socialites so they can have even better lives.” He didn’t laugh. He pet the dog and judged us for a whole minute while we laughed harder.
My phone dinged, and I contemplated checking, but I knew the sound was an email. I’d changed it so my emails made a different ping.
The Test Dummy was getting another job.
Or maybe Kami was canceling hers altogether.
“How was the first week back to work?” Monty changed the subject as he sat, and Moser brought him a drink, offering me a quick nod to check on mine.
“Great.” I slid the chocolates back at Marcia. My nerves were killing my ability to eat.
“She’s lying. My father cruelly forced her to eat bugs. She got sick in front of the entire company and ruined a bathroom to the point that it needed a renovation. And she found out Martin has cancer and that her work friend, Hennie, is sort of dating him. She’s our age. And Jordan Somersby tried to have a conversation with her, but she was mean to him because of that whole Amy thing he’s suffering through.” Marcia summed up my entire life in one breath.
“Wow.” He slid his scotch at me and took my mojito. “You need more than chocolate and a mojito.”
“Hence the reason we’re having this little party and going out.” Marcia made it sound like this was for me, but I knew she was desperate for some fun. Half her friends were back to summer intern positions. It was a better number than last summer; at least some of them were trying.
“It was an intense week,” I agreed. “But the Jordan thing wasn’t so bad. I was a bit of a dick to him because he flirted with me right in front of Amy, which isn’t cool. You know how you types aren’t great with rejection. I think I hurt his ego, but maybe he’ll learn something from that. And the bug bars are turning into something. I’m spinning it.” I shuddered and lifted the scotch, smelling the vanilla and trying to forget my horrific experience.
“So Frederick has you marketing them?”
“Just creating the advertising. He wants a young person’s perspective on it all. You know how back in the day they just got sports stars to promote a product, and it worked? Astronauts and athletes could sell anything. Well, it no longer works like that. You need a Kardashian, and it’s got to go viral on Twitter and Insta. He couldn’t get a celeb to take the bait, literally.”
“You girls have all the connections to get it to go viral.” He glanced at Marcia.
“I’m not supporting bug bars. Jesus. I told Dad this already. Gross.”
“We’ll see.” I laughed and lifted my glass to Monty. “To Fridays.”
“Best day of the week.” He clinked his glass against mine and then hers.
We all drank, and then he took her hand and kissed the back of it. She led him to the deck to make out for a moment, and I took the opportunity to check my phone.
Sure enough there was another email.
It wasn’t from Kami canceling.
This was a new job.
When I saw the name of the sender, my jaw would have dropped if not for the gooey caramel still cementing it together.
Amy Weitzman wanted to hire me to catch her boyfriend, Jordan Somersby, cheating.
Seeing her name made me uncomfortable, but I knew I couldn’t be choosy about jobs; that would raise eyebrows. Why would I be selective about whom I agreed to out? That could be a hint at who I was.
I needed to keep things aboveboard. Clients were clients.
But Jordan Somersby?
The guy who hit on me just days ago?
Was his hitting on me the reason she wanted to hire me?
Did she actually care about him?
Was their relationship not actually as fraudulent as everyone believed?
Or did she just want out so she could openly groove with her drummer boy?
My stomach ached as I contemplated it all.
Jordan was an issue for me. I found him incredibly attractive, and Hennie’s defense of him made him less icky.
Could I find him attractive and out him at the same time, or was that a conflict of interest?
Wouldn’t that be like me using the Test Dummy to ruin a relationship because I thought he was hot?
And what would it say about him if he did go for the bait? That Hennie was wrong about him. That’s what it would say. It would say he was just like his brother.
But how would I bait him if he knew me?
He wasn’t like DJ Dipshit; he knew my face up close and personal.
I’d have to contract someone else for moments like this.
But whom?
Deciding to worry about that detail later, I shot back the glass of scotch and typed a reply, agreeing to take the case as Moser poured me a new one and slid a bottle of water at me.
“Thanks, Moser.”
“Of course.” He smiled and slipped back to the bar.
I sent the email, and for one moment I felt like maybe I did the right thing. The relationship needed to end, and I could help them both with that. I was a regular altruist if there ever was one.
Of course, the moment after that thought—as I took two deep breaths, immediately regretting everything I’d just done and the reasons for doing them—he walked in. He being Jordan Somersby. The man I had just been hired to destroy.