Always Choose Dare

Chapter 5 - About Last Night

I don’t know what it is about mornings. When I first wake up, I’m honestly already ready for bedtime again, like I never slept in the first place. On the other hand, it’s a fresh start - the first moment of a day full of possibilities. It could even be the first moment of a new life if one so chooses. Today, I am really grasping onto that “fresh start” mentality.

Who can blame me?

After dinner, or more precisely, after my skipping dinner last night, I walked down the street and crossed into the historic arts district. Something about strolling along the sidewalk and admiring artisans’ work through the antique shop windows soothes my soul. When I moved away from the capital two years ago, I chose to live at the other end of this road. My townhouse puts me within walking distance of everything I need, and it honestly felt the most like a home of anywhere I had been. After my time in international relations, I’ve experienced quite a lot of places with which to compare!

One of the best parts of strolling this lane is the smell. It isn’t your typical beach city smell; rather, it’s what I’d imagine the smell of a town from one of my novels would smell like. The artisans on this lane are plentiful, so the air is rich with the smells of baking bread, custom-made fudge, freshly made waffle cones, and hand-crafted flavored syrups. Additionally, there is the soft smell of leather from a craftsman’s shop mixed with the scent of freshly cut and printed paper from the neighboring print shop. As I walked along the street smelling those scents last night, I decided to write my parents a letter explaining to them once and for all that my life is now here, and if they could not respect that, then they could stay out of it completely.

At this very moment, that is exactly what I just completed. I quickly assess my writing and, deeming it worthy, I seal it within the envelope and ready it for posting. Standing at my desk, I slip the envelope into my satchel and head to my kitchen to make my morning coffee. Just as I switch the pot on, my phone rings. Seeing that it’s my agent, I answer.

“Good morning, Elaine,” I say as brightly as possible.

“Remi, have you seen the message that the publishers sent out this morning?”

Got to love how she is always straight to the point!

“No, I haven’t. I had some personal business that needed tending to this morning,” I say nonchalantly.

“Nothing scandalous of which I need to be aware, is it?”

“No. Besides, considering my genre, an illicit affair would only boost my sales.” I let out a little laugh.

Wouldn’t my parents love that?

“That’s my girl! Keep those numbers climbing!” Elaine cheers. “Back to my point, Remi. The publisher wants to do an early release. I’ve already contacted the bookstore that we scheduled your release party with, and they are happy to bring you in early. In fact, they have already made posts all over regarding your being there to sign the first 100 books sold at their Roystonea location, which is their biggest store in the country, as you know. Now, we just need to get you ready in time. I have you scheduled for hair and a manicure at two this afternoon. You’ll have a facial afterward at four. A stylist will swing by your place at eight this evening to get your attire lined up. Be sure not to eat anything that will cause water retention or gas, because I have hired top photographers to be present at the signing, and we don’t want puffy Remi gracing the cover of the paper,” Elaine rambles.

“Wait. Are we doing the signing tomorrow?”

My nerves just shot through the roof, making me question the cup of coffee I was about to make. Usually, I ready myself for public appearances over the week prior.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get everything in order and you’ll be fine. I need you at the store by seven tomorrow morning. They open to the public at nine. We’ll have an area blocked off for the signing. I’ve hired one security guard to stay right with you, and the store is calling in additional employees so that the number of books will be accurate. Everything is in order; all you have to do is show up and sign some books. That’s all!”

“Elaine, I had a seriously rough night last night. I’m really not -”

“Last night was last night, not today. Today you have three appointments because tomorrow you have a book release party where you will be doing a book signing!” Elaine’s tone leaves no room for argument.

I know that there is no way I can change any of this, and in reality, I need to do this to show my parents that I’m committed to my career choice and lifestyle.

“Fine, but make those appointments double because I am bringing Beth with me,” I negotiate.

“Make sure Ms. Faris is on time,” Elaine says, ending the call.

Knowing Beth’s propensity to run late, I call her immediately and tell her to meet at the salon at one this afternoon.

***

Beth was on time, swinging her compact car into the parking space at 1:58. Then again, she was fifty-eight minutes late as far as she knew.

“So, I was trying to leave on time, but Regis had to go out, so I took him on a walk, and I ran into Mrs. Frauntine -”

“Beth! You are fine. I told you the appointment was at one, but it was really at two. Let’s go in before we really are late,” I say through my Cheshire grin.

“You mean you lied to me?” Her voice spikes.

“Mmm…not really. The hair appointment is at two, but I scheduled you for my time at one. We just have an hour less time to chat now,” I say, shrugging my shoulders before entering the posh salon and day spa where Elaine insists I have my work done. “Why are you really late, anyway? School’s out, and you’ve had your wedding planned since you were nine years old!”

It’s true. Beth is the quintessential good girl getting ready for her white wedding that she’s had planned since she was a child. She did well in school, graduating with her undergrad degree in literature and her graduate degree in library science. Refusing to date anyone until she knew she was ready to get married, she didn’t have her first boyfriend until she met Hezekiah (or “Hezi” as I call him, against his will.) They dated for about six months before Hezi proposed. Now they are in their year-long engagement, planning their wedding, and looking for a new house to share once they are married. Beth works in the library of the local university, where Hezi works in the athletics department. They are both genuinely good, kind people and are really the ideal of most young girls. To be honest though, they are just so sweet that I feel I risk getting a cavity being around them.

Even with that sugary sweetness, Beth is truly my best friend. After growing up with fake friends who only came to birthday parties because of my parents’ wealth, I had grown a thick shell. Even in college, when I’d begin a friendship or relationship, I was always ready for the fallout, for when I found out that they were not committed and didn’t truly care about me. I met Beth in grad school. She and I both came to Roystonea for our graduate programs, and when we met, we had an instant bond. Beth was the first person I met who was also born with a forme fruste unilateral cleft lip and palate. She knew firsthand the struggles I’d been through with my surgeries, speech therapy, eating therapy, and, of course, the bullying.

“Hey! So now that your book is being released early, does that mean you’ll be traveling to Uralia with your parents? Will you be meeting the Jureaus’ son?” Beth asks as she takes her seat in the hydraulic chair.

I sit in my own and answer her. “Absolutely not. I went to dinner with them last night, and the conversation was over before I even ordered. The Jureaus don’t want their son marrying a tainted woman like myself for fear their grandchildren will also be born defective.”

Beth’s eyes sadden. Sometimes, I forget that she never built up the calluses I have.

“I guess they don’t know that anyone could be born with the cleft,” she breathes.

“Don’t allow their ugly views and nasty words to hurt you, Beth. Like my nanny used to say, ‘those who are meant to truly love us will only see it as a sign of our strength,’ and Hezi has never complained about yours, has he? We’ve gone through so much and our tiny scars are just proof that we are overcomers!” I do my best to sound cheerful to bolster Beth. “Besides, they can keep that stuffy prick in Uralia. If he wants a beautiful puppet for a wife, I would never have been that, even without my scar. I’d prefer to have a more rugged, burly man rather than a pretty one, anyway.”

“I understand that, though he certainly is pretty! He is all over the news, and women seem to really want him.”

“Well, they can have him. Seems odd his parents were trying to match us if he has so many options!”

I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“No kidding. I think I’ll just stick with Hezekiah. He may not be a big name in the world, but he’s strong, pretty, and sweet. Best yet, he is mine, and women don’t seem to notice him,” Beth says as the two stylists start working on us.

“Remi, are you keeping your color natural again?” Shasta asks.

She has been trying to talk me into doing something different for years, but I have always liked my long, chestnut waves.

“You know what? Rayla, the female lead in my newest book, has purple hair. While it isn’t much, I think I’d like to put just a few purple streaks on the underside. And instead of my traditional one-length, let’s do some long layers so those hints of purple peek out,” I say boldly.

I figure I might as well solidify the Jureaus’ views of my unworthiness.

“Are we keeping it at your low-back?”

Shasta’s grin is all I need to spur me on.

“Let’s take it up to just below my shoulders. So what is that? Like six inches off?” I ask.

“Easily six, maybe eight. Your hair is healthy, so it isn’t necessary, but I think this will be good for you. I think you’ll look and feel bolder, Remi,” Shasta says as she plays with my hair between her fingers. “I think your waves may even look curlier with the length off.”

Shasta motions for me to get up and follow her to the sinks. I can’t help but be a little jealous of her long, sexy legs. I was born female, and my legs are nowhere near as beautiful as hers. Then it hits me - if anyone knows exactly how to be bold in the face of others’ disapproval, it’s Shasta! If she says this will embolden me, then I trust that it will. Yes! This is exactly what I need! Bold Remi. Daring Remi. No more pleasing-her-parents Remi. This Remi won’t take s**t from anyone!