37. Too Much Disposable Income
1188 Words
Beth Camper is poised exquisitely on the arms of the chair on which I seat, hovering somewhere between frustration and delicious outrage.
Frustration that I had stupidly hastily agreed to accompany Jordan to Don Puerto and I had been ransacking my useless wardrobe to realize I have absolutely nothing Don Puerto worthy. Urrgh.
And then there's the delicious outrage that what if I waltz in the ridiculous under glamour unsuitable for accompanying a tabloid worthy superstar. Because hell no, even the news of Jordan's meet and greet is plastered everywhere in the internet.
Ya right , I mutter. I imagine his loathsome pride tripling or maybe quadrupling.
But I wasn't going there for showbiz, was I. I was going to shove ass, kick ass, save the deliciously sweet boy who I shouldn't even be thinking about.
But I was not a fighter. I was only a dreamer, albeit a death-wrecked one.
Oblivious to my internal monologues, Beth is repeating the one hundredth tirade about her fifteenth breakup with Asher this week .
Her voice simmers into the depths of my consciousness "And what does Gloria even have? Night, you need to see the anorexic trash Asher's dumping me for ?"
"The redhead?" I ask flatly. Asher and Beth's numerous break ups make ups was beginning to look like my least favorite TV series.
Beth rolls her eyes and groans "No. That was Vanessa".
"Oh" I mutter, absentmindedly groaning over my famous wardrobe insufficiencies.
"Take a look at this " Beth shoves her phone to my face.
I find myself staring at the picture of a tall skinny girl sunbathing in a sleek poise. Brown skin. Brown eyes. And coffee brown sleekness.
"Who's this?" I ask, flipping to find more shots of her.
"Duh. That's the Gloria." Beth's voice is a tensed mixture of outrage and disdain.
"What Gloria?" I ask listlessly, dragged once more into my gloom.
The murderous look Beth gives me is enough to pull me back into the edges of reality "The man-snatching Gloria. Were you even listening to me at all ? For f***s sake, that's the b***h Asher's dropping me for."
"The anorexic trash you said?" I raise an eyebrow.
Beth smirks "Atleast you heard that bit ".
"She looks fine to me . Is she a model or something ".
"What does being a model have to do with taking my Asher" Beth groans "Sadly, she f*****g is a model. "
" I see."
Beth's voice is now a half whine "I guarantee she won't last . Vanessa didn't. Stace didn't. Even the volumptous Pika didn't. And the pennyless ingrate is having women drool over him because of what exactly..."
"I wonder" I say flatly.
Beth continues "Well if he didn't have a five inch veiny pleasure pipe, I wouldn't even be tolerating his cheating ass . "
I scoff "So you are settling for d**k. Thats nice to know. "
Beth squeaks "Not just any d**k. Asher's d**k. Night, he's a hound in bed. "
I roll my eyes "This is probably the one thousandth time I am hearing about Asher's impressive bedmatics. "
Beth laughs "Well good things should be praised, ain't that right. At least he's not Rick with a two inch pipe that couldn't even locate the g-spot".
I scoff "Unfortunate Rick "
Beth snorts "Very unfortunate...
A knock cuts her off.
Two sharp taps - polite but impatient as if the person on the other side had somewhere better to be.
Beth tenses instantly "That must be Asher. I told you he wouldn't last one minute without me. He's come begging as usual. For that ecstasy dripping d**k, I would forgive even his one hundredth infidelity. "
I laugh "You seem so sure. "
"It's him alright. " She smooths her dress and dabs at her eyes "f**k. I don't have to appear all sulky and flustered. Night, how do I look ?"
"Stunning, as always." I say, my legs piloting me to the door.
Please don't be Jordan, I pray silently, resenting the silly explanations I would have to make if the cocky puss was to appear at my door with Beth present.
He might be a famous music icon able to draw moans out of obsessed female mouths .
But he was also something else I shouldn't be drawn to.
He was a werewolf.
A delivery rider stands there, helmet still on, holding a flat black box tied with a gold ribbon. No logo, no card. Just opulence that couldn't be veiled.
"Night Carter?" he asks.
I nod.
"Signature."
I scribble something that might pass for a signature, and he vanishes before I can ask who sent it.
Beth sits up, eyes wild, watching me drag the box inside. "Okay, that's either a bomb or something from an admirer with way too much disposable income."
"Maybe both."
I untie the ribbon. Inside, layers of tissue drift apart to reveal silk — a deep ocean-blue gown, sleek and dazzling. Next to it, I find five other exquisite designer clothes that takes the air from my chest. Then there's two different pairs of rich shoes, princess worthy and then there's a smaller box.
My chest does a flip flap.
Beth gasps. "Is that real?"
I open the smaller box. Diamond earrings wink up at me, sharp and cold.
"Oh my God, Night, this is insane! Who sent them?"
I shrug, although I can easily guess who did "Probably a publicity mix-up. Some influencer mistake."
"Ya right" Beth says, snorting.
I laugh "An admirer who's taking me out this weekend. "
Beth squeaks excitedly "Finally, you are doing what other normal eighteen year olds do. Taking weekend trips. Well who's the lucky admirer."
"Someone with way too much disposable income ".
Beth giggles "Perfect. Doesn't he have friends or brothers with way too much disposable income? I could replace Asher in a whim."
I scoff "You wish ".
Beth flops back onto her bed, scrolling through her phone. "Well, whoever sent that has taste. Keep him. "
"Yeah," I mutter silently, tracing the diamond edge against my skin. "I wish I could"
I fish out the folded note I pretended not to see tucked under the gown's lining.
"For my Dark Magian, " it reads, in Jordan's carefully neat scrawl. "You'll need to look divine when you save my life."
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