Page 9 of Counterfeit Connection

“Hi, Gilly.”

“Hey there, you. How was work today?”

Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question.“Oh…it was…fine.”

“Those pauses between your words would tell me otherwise. Are you sure it was fine?”

I open one of the drawers, pulling out one of the serums I like to slather on to my face every night before bed and use the dropper to add a bit to my hands. “Why wouldn’t it be?” I begin to work the product into my skin. “Hey, how is my favorite little nephew? Is he being just as adorable as ever?”

“You know the answer to that. It’s always yes, but you also know I will only allow you to deflect for so long. Eventually, I’m going to ‘Big Sister Demand’ you tell me what happened.”

The Big Sister Demand is as sacred as a triple dog dare. She wouldn’t pull out the big guns like that… would she?

“Am I allowed to say I don’t want to talk about it because, at the end of the day, it’s really not that big of a deal?”

She sighs through the phone. “Yes. Are you sure everything is all right though? Wilder didn’t do something out of line?”

“Ha. Not this time.”

Fuck. I can’t keep my mouth shut. “Not this time? Okay, who was it this time? If you tell me no one, I’ll go around Big Sister Demand and go right for I’ll tell Dad.”

I laugh. “Wow. Will you ever not pull that? If I swear, will you narc me out too? I’m not nine anymore, Gilly.”

“Kait, I know you’re not, but what I also know is, you’re more stubborn than Dad and me put together. You’d think we were asking you to cut a limb off to ask for help or advice. Honey, I know things haven’t been great since you got to New York. I don’t press you about it because you’re a big girl who can take care of herself.”

“Yeah…that isn’t the general consensus though.”

“Okay, my little pixie, spill.”

I can hear Gillian, like clockwork, shift her phone to rest on her shoulder against her ear, while my nephew is cooing away while he finishes his bottle. “I better not be on speakerphone. I don’t need Jason going all Jason on me.”

“The only one in listening distance is Joey.”

“Fine, okay. I was working tonight at Elliot’s, and I took a table of suits who came in for dinner.”

“All right… I am failing to see the problem here. Continue.”

“Two of them were British, the other two were American and it seemed like they were having some sort of very contentious business meeting. One of them was so curt with me. It was honestly kind of rude, but in the same breath he’d be a little flirty?” I say it as a question because even I’m not sure if what I’m saying is accurate. “Then I had another customer who was a miserable asshole, and the hot, rude British guy tried to come to my rescue and it pissed me off.”

“It pissed you off? Was it because of what he said to defend you or that he defended you at all? Honestly Kait, if this man was, as you put it, a miserable asshole, wouldn’t you want anyone who saw that as threatening to come to your defense? I see that as being a good thing. He did what I or Jason or Dad or even any of your friends should have done. Your Brit wasn’t inappropriate…like he got physical with this other man?”

“No. Elliot would have tossed him if that was the case. He did end up asking the other man to leave.”

“Well then, I still fail to see what the problem is. May I play amateur psychologist for a bit?”

“Oh boy. Here we go.” I slide down the foot of my bed until my backside reaches the floor. “Let’s hear it, Dr. Taylor.”

“Hush you!” Gillian sighs before giving me her next thoughts. “Are you lumping this man in with Wilder? You see someone with perceived power, in a suit, and you immediately react. You think they think you’re incapable of handling things, or even more so, you might think that.”

Her words sink into my brain and I make a face like a petulant child, even though she can’t see me. Ugh. She’s right. “Do you have to be right all the time?”

“I don’t have to be. I just am.”

“I yelled at him, Gillian. He seemed shocked that I did.”

“Wouldn’t you be shocked if someone you thought you were helping yelled at you for it?”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now besides wallow in my self-loathing and eat some comfort food. I may even watch some trash television. Until the brunch shift tomorrow, that is.”

---