Page 44 of The Arrangement

“Clark, come out and meet my sister or she won’t let me leave the house,” I grumbled as I crossed my arms and leaned against the adjacent wall. I wasn’t pouting.

It took a moment for Clark to open the door and walk out of my bedroom awkwardly. “Um, hi, I’m Georgia,” she introduced herself, holding out her hand to my younger sister.

My sister’s dark eyes brightened as soon as she saw her. “I’m Maria! So nice to meet you. Sorry my brother is an ass.” She glared at me as they shook hands, obviously irritated that I tried to hide her. To my utter annoyance, Georgia shrugged, “I get used to it.”

Maria smiled and then turned to me expectantly. “So, are we goingto your birthday dinner or what?” I dodged Clark’s widening eyes as the word ‘birthday’ passed by my sister’s lips.

“It’s yourbirthday,Quinn?” Clark exclaimed incredulously, her hands on her hips as she stared at me in disbelief. Running my hand down my face I groaned, “This is why I don’t like talking about my birthday, Maria, now everyone knows.”

Maria scoffed, “It's two people, and one of them is your sister. So dramatic.” Shaking her head, she readjusted her purse on her shoulder. “So, are we going or what?”

I pushed off the wall. “Yeah, whatever. Let me change.” I wasn’t grumbling, but I wasn’t exactly excited. Maria looked a little nervous as she said, “Grandpa will be there. He insisted.”

I froze, every muscle going taut as I thought about having to sit through an entire meal with that man. But if I didn’t go? It would be even worse. Gritting my teeth, I pushed off the wall to head to my room.

“Georgia, can you come?” I stiffened as I heard those words uttered by Maria, immediately trying to come up with some excuse why Clark could not come.

“Oh, um, no thank you. It’s a very nice offer, but I’m not dressed to go out, and?—”

“Nonsense! Seb never brings friends around. It would be fun and it’s not overly formal.” Turning quickly I caught Clark’s panicked expression as she looked to me for help. What was I going to say, ‘Oh no, Maria, we’re only fucking for money on the internet, she barely tolerates me! But thanks for the offer!’ Jesus Christ.

But Clark came through with a convincing lie that had my eyebrow raised. “I really would love to come, but I already have dinner plans that I can’t cancel.” I knew the truth of course; the dinner plans included reheating some takeout and sitting with her cat while watching trash TV. And thank god for that.I would never let Charles anywhere near Georgia Quinn. Not if I could help it.

“Maybe next time!” Maria said brightly, though I could tell she was disappointed. Clark said goodbye, looking at me strangely as she passed.

As soon as the door shut my sister spun on me. “She’s so pretty, why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone!”

Rifling through my closet, I picked out a white button-up and some brown pants. I would’ve just worn some jeans, but if Charles was going to be there I knew better than to dress casually. Even for my own birthday dinner.

“Because we’re not seeing each other. We’re just friends,” I dismissed her casually, walking into my bathroom to pull the shirt over my head. Thank god I’d put away the equipment because there was no way I would be able to talk my way out of that.

“Then why did you hide her in your bedroom?” She quipped, and though I couldn’t see her I knew she was wearing some shit-eating grin.

“Because I knew what it would look like and that you would do exactly what you’re doing now,” I rebutted, deftly fastening the buttons and pulling out a brown belt. I ran my nails through the coarse hair over my cheeks; the old man would have something to say about that.

There was silence for a moment while I ran some product through my curls, untangling a few that had been plastered down by my mask only minutes ago.

I re-entered my bedroom to pull on a jacket, my sister watching me all the while.

“I’m sorry Grandpa is coming,” Maria finally whispered, her voice full of remorse. “I didn’t think he would remember.”

I shrugged. “It's whatever, not your fault.”

Maria nodded but looked unconvinced.“You know you don’t have to work for him right? You could leave anytime.” She was looking at the floor while she said this. “I know you stay for me and you don’t have to, Seb.”

Sighing deeply, I turned to face her. Even at eighteen, she had the eyes of someone who had gone through unimaginable trauma at an early age; losing both of our parents so quickly broke something in her. Charles wasn’t exactly a nurturing father figure and thought that as long as we had a roof over our heads and food on the table we were fine. It was me who made sure she saw a school counselor in middleschool when her fears of abandonment manifested in her nightmares over our mother’s death that caused her to miss school. I was the one who took her car shopping so the old bastard couldn’t hold the car over her head because he paid for it. I even took care of her car insurance just so Maria could have some semblance of independence until she finished high school.

“I don’t want to leave, Maria,” I replied softly, tugging on my shoes. “It’s just family stuff, don’t worry about it, okay?”

She nodded but didn’t say another word as we walked out to the car, the brisk late October evening biting as the leaves swirled around our ankles.

We drove in near silence to the restaurant my grandfather chose; Italian, even though I wasn’t a huge fan of Italian food. But he was, and he owned a stake in the restaurant, so here we were.

My grandfather was already seated at a large booth near the fireplace, poring over the wine menu and barely looking up as we sat down.

“Nearly late,” he sighed with obvious disapproval as I flipped open my menu.Here we go.

“It just turned seven, Charles. We’re perfectly on time,” I replied stiffly, seeing Maria stiffen at my remark.

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