Page 44 of Upshot

“Well, now you’re playing dirty.”

“Not yet. But I’m sure we can work that in.”

sixteen

BRONTË

You’re probably wondering if I went back that night. I’m sure you’re Team Rand by now. Well, I did not. Not that I didn’t want to. I really, really wanted to.

But I decided to eat half a restaurant’s worth of guacamole at Casa Óle in the next town over. Needless to say, I spent that evening revisiting it again and again. In the bathroom. Well, enough said about that. You don’t want the details.

Don’t worry though. I was back the next evening. You see, I picked out the perfect couch to snuggle up and watch a movie on. Rand doesn’t make it easy to resist his house either. He’s becoming a half-decent cook. And that reading nook? The first time I saw it completed, he had added an extra soft bench pillow. It’s perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon.

“How are you doing, littlest?” Dad asks from the doorway of my bedroom.

“I’m good.” I rushed home after work to pack. Rand needs to visit one of his projects in Denver, and he’s invited me along. At first, I refused, explaining that at eight months pregnant, the idea of being packed like a sardine onto a plane was repugnant. Then he explained that we were riding in the company plane, and he promised I would have plenty of room.

“You’re going tomorrow?”

“Mhm.” At least I have something nice to wear. I need to thank Rand again for taking me shopping.

“With him?”

Something about my dad’s tone stops me from stuffing my suitcase. “Yes. Why?”

Dad is the most laid-back physics professor you could ever hope to know. He rarely gets riled. And not once has he tried to steer what Rand and I have going. He didn’t even interfere when Austen and Reed were in the middle of their dizzying feud.

Now, he’s starting to worry me. Does he know something I don’t? Is Denver where people go to make skinsuits out of their unsuspecting, pregnant prey?

“Nothing. I just wish we knew him better.”

Let me explain something. I’m twenty-three years old. I’ve lived in New York and traveled the country for modeling jobs. On my own. But now, he feels like he should be more in the know?

I manage not to roll my eyes. I guess you have one reckless night, and everyone wants to get involved.

“Why don’t you invite him to family dinner tonight?” he suggests.

“Dad! It’s in, like, fifteen minutes.” Speaking of, I should get ready. He just shrugs. “I’ll ask.” Pulling out my phone, I type out a hasty message.

Brontë: Can you be at The Hungry Heifer in 15? Dad wants to talk. (play suspense music here)

Rand: Sure. Let me put on pants. (segue to sexy music)

Brontë: Good choice. Not sure pantless is the impression we’re going for. (right into Benny Hill theme song)

Rand: What impression are we going for? And you’re too young to know that show. (something by Taylor Swift)

Brontë: Something that says you’re not hauling me off in your fancy jet to make me into a skinsuit. (was there music in Silence of the Lambs?)

Rand: Then why are we going? I promise I’ll present my most respectable mask. See you there. I’ll be the one with the giant fake smile. (full circle back to sinister)

“He said he’ll be there,” I inform Dad, who’s still lurking around my doorway.

“We’d better get a move on then.”

The Hungry Heifer is nothing special. It’s plastic tablecloths, chipped plates, and daily specials. But it’s been here as long as any of us can remember. I love it. Besides, it makes the best burgers around.

When we pull into the parking lot, Rand is already there, talking to Reed. They both move to open Mom’s and my doors.

---