Page 38 of Always Knew It Was You

She rolls her eyes this time and then tells the flight attendant. “Ignore him. I think he was dropped too many times on the head as a child. Can I please have theMontrachet? And imagine I just said that in the snootiest voice possible.”

“Of course, madam.” The woman looks like she’s trying to hold back a laugh as she turns to me. “Anything else for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same.” Although I probably won’t have more than a glass because I need to stay focused for the rest of the day. Apart from shopping, there’s so much to teach her, so much for her to learn. My young, pretty padawan.

As the flight attendant walks away, I tell Carly, “Alright. Now, it’s time to learn how to sit like a high-society lady.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Right now? Before the wine?”

“Yes, before the wine.” This requires all the focus we can manage. “Now this is one of the most important things you can learn for this ruse to work. You have to sit like British royalty. This one is called the Sussex slant. Let me demonstrate.” I shift into position and clear my throat. “You sit up straight, chin up, shoulders back. And then you slide one leg over the other like that. Then you put it to the side.”

She snorts and then slaps her hand over her mouth to hide her snicker. “Are you sure about that? That looks wrong.”

“Of course, I’m sure.” I give her my most dignified snooty look that only makes her snort harder. “I called up a lady I used to date, who was an etiquette teacher. Also watched a few YouTube videos.” Not to mention I’ve been around high-society girls all my life. I’ve seen them sit like this plenty of times. “Now you try.”

She’s still grinning as she obeys, but as she tries to get in the position, doubt fills her features. “Yeah, this definitely feels wrong.”

“That’s because you’re twisting your legs together like snakes. Here, do it like this. And make sure you sit up straight!”

She tries but the more she does, the more comical it gets until she finally gives up in fits of laughter. I have to smile too. Maybe I need to get a real high-society girl to teach her. Ironic that I used to avoid them like a plague and now I’m trying to turn Carly into one of them.

We keep trying, although the attempts get sloppier after a few glasses of wine. And then when we finally land in LA, we take a limo to Beverly Hills, and I watch Carly’s eyes glow as she takes in the city, the skyscrapers, and the glittering neon lights, the pulsing energy of the city.

And also, the late evening traffic.

“Damn. I forgot how annoying driving through the city was,” I say.

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I would describe a stretch limo ride in one of the most glamorous cities in the world,” Carly quips, glancing at me with twinkling eyes. “Annoying.”

I chuckle.

Eventually, we end up on Rodeo Drive, walking down the stretch of stores, with Carly subtly pointing out some fellow stretch-walkers carrying absurdly tiny dogs. We laugh at it together, but then she pulls to a stop near our destination, when a boy of about ten in ratty clothes approaches tentatively.

“E-Excuse me,” he stammers, twisting his fingers in his hands. “D-do you have any change to spare?”

She stares at him for a few seconds, in horror and pity. I can see her heart melting and then she reaches into her pocket emptying out a few twenties from it.

“You got anything?” she asks me and I shake my head. She’s about to hand him the cash she dug up but I reach out and snag her wrists.

She frowns at me. “What?”

I shake my head again subtly, not wanting to get into it in front of the boy. But Carly is stubborn.

“Let go.” She attempts to tug her hand out of my hold, but I don’t release it.

“Don’t do it,” I tell her. “It’s a ruse.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Before I can explain, the boy gets visibly nervous and darts away.

“Hey!” Carly calls after him but he doesn’t look back. “Great, now you scared him.”

“Good,” I say, receiving an outraged look. “It’s a scam, Carly. Usually anyways. The parents set the kids up to go and beg on their behalf because everyone is far more eager to help homeless kids than adults.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she argues back. “He was clearly hungry or at least in need of help.”

“There are a lot of initiatives here that can reach out and help people like him. Donate to them instead.”

---