Friday, July 27, 2007
Mac woke at 5:45 to the sound of knocking. She opened her eyes to find herself in Logan's bed, and heard Dick's voice. "Hey, Mac. Breakfast."
She groggily called for him to come in, and he brought the tray in and laid it on her lap.
"Breakfast in bed? I could get used to this," she said, grinning. He snagged a grape and popped it in his mouth in response.
"Sorry room service woke you up so early," she said, taking a whiff of the coffee. "I didn't hear the door."
He shrugged. "I'm usually up by now anyway. Got waves to catch. Enjoy slaving away for the man," he called over his shoulder, closing the door behind him.
Mac ate quickly and dressed for work. She was glad to see the swelling of her eyes had gone down, thanks to some ice and an eye cream provided by the helpful concierge. Even though she had no reason to avoid him, but still feeling awkward about having kissed him, she stayed in Logan's room until she heard the door to the penthouse close, signaling Dick had left for the beach.
That kiss, she thought. She needed to get it out of her mind.
She had a few minutes before she had to leave, and took the opportunity to finish her coffee on the balcony while watching the water as the sun rose behind them. What an amazing view. It was even more spectacular at night, to see the sun set on the Pacific.
From the balcony, she could see Dick leave the parking lot of the hotel in his truck, his surf board strapped in the back. Someday, she thinks, she'll move away from Neptune and she'll miss these sights.
Dick surfed himself to exhaustion. It was a relief to be getting his body back into shape. The toll the heavy drinking had been taking on him wasn't really evident until he started to get back on his board. His abs were regaining their definition, his arms and legs were strong again. It felt good to be healthy, and feeling good was something he needed in his life, something he had been missing for a very long time.
Even before the tragedy with Cassidy unfolded, his life had never been that spectacular. While Mac was right, that he had enough money he could do anything he wanted, have anything he wanted, go anywhere he wanted, the problem was it was all pretty empty when you were an empty person. The only thing that gave him joy was surfing; it had freed him from the coldness of his home since the first time he caught a wave. His absent mother; his asshole father and his string of barely-legal, gold-digging women who couldn't keep their hands off his friends; and his brother, who he had picked on mercilessly out of some desperate desire to connect with their father, but who had secretly disturbed him for years.
The only real friend, real brother, he had was Logan. Even when he pushed him away and was a total asshole to him, Logan stood by him. Sure, Logan had made his share of mistakes. A small part of him still resented Logan for not saving Cassidy, even if it was irrational to believe he could have. And an even smaller part was still irked by the thought of him sleeping with Madison, even though he couldn't even stand the sight of Madison anyway. But the bro code, right? He would never lay a hand on Ronnie (even if she didn't make his cock shrivel with her ice cold stare and the looming threat of her Taser). Maybe Parker… Logan had never loved Parker, but still, he'd totally make sure Logan was cool with it first.
Then there was Mac. He wasn't sure why she'd taken so much of his shit and managed to forgive him, but it really meant something that she hauled him out of the cemetery that night and let him crash at her place. She said nice things about his brother, and was kind to him, even though he'd been particularly cruel to her in the past. It was the most anyone had done since Cassidy died. No one ever expressed remorse that Cassidy was gone (not even Logan could manage it after all Cassidy had done to Veronica), just remorse that Dick was hurting, that Dick had suffered a loss. Sorry that Dick had a monster for a brother. That hardly made him feel better.
Mac had loved his brother, obviously still does, and he had loved her in his own twisted way. He wishes they could have had a chance. He used to have this dream that none of that stuff on graduation night ever happened. Dick never goes outside of the hotel to see the swarm of police and fire trucks, the remains of his brother staining the street. Instead, the two of them go surfing in the morning and Cassidy tells him he finally did it, he finally lost his virginity, and he's madly in love, tells him that's the girl he's going to marry. It fast-forwards to Cassidy's college graduation, where he pulls out a ring and proposes to Mac. They go on to do some hostile takeovers of Fortune 500 companies, and Mac pops out a bunch of little nieces and nephews for Dick to take surfing and buy them stuff that Mac and Beav don't want them to have. A real family. The kind that laughs and celebrates holidays together and loves you no matter what. He'd be a shit dad, but he thinks he'd have been a fantastic uncle. He'd have made up for his own shit parents in that way. Made up for being a shit brother.
A dream that can't come true.
Sometimes now, though, he has this dream where Mac is naked in his bed and begging him to fuck her, and then he happily obliges. That dream can't come true either.
He's not sure how to reconcile the two. He has to admit he dreams the second one a whole lot more these days.
In fact, that dream crossed his mind when she kissed him the night before. He tells himself he only kissed her back so as to not reject her advances on a day when she'd already been rejected by her boyfriend. He wouldn't have taken it any further, he thinks; he isn't a complete asshole. But shit. That kiss was hot.
He had that dream again last night too.
She'd rejected him the two times he'd tried to kiss her. He can't say he blamed her; he was drunk off his ass both times. He couldn't really figure out why she'd kissed him last night though. Feeling rejected and insecure, probably. Obviously, she immediately regretted it, which is his only regret.
Regardless, she was his new roommate and he needed to behave himself. They were friends now. That was a big deal. He could count on one hand how many actual friends he had, not just people he played beer pong with and counted up points for Sex Quest, but people who cared about him and who he cared about in return. He didn't want to mess that up with meaningless sex.
Although, he honestly wasn't sure sex with Mac would be completely meaningless. Another reason to steer clear.
Mac found her new clothes to be oddly therapeutic. Although the staff at Kane Software didn't seem impressed (that group was much too serious to comment on something as mundane as an expensive new outfit), she felt oddly more confident. She was even brave enough to make comments on the new project in the morning staff meeting, something she was still too intimidated to do most times. Her comments were met positively. Maybe there was something to this whole "dress for success" thing. She finally felt like a grown-up, instead of a little girl.
She worked through lunch, only occasionally nibbling on some dried fruit and nuts she kept in stock in her desk, and by the time she got off work, she was famished. She texted Dick just before she left the office to ask if he wanted to do dinner after she picked up the stuff from Max.
He texted back: "I already picked up your stuff. All at home."
She reread the message just to make sure. "Seriously?"
"Yep."
"Thanks."
"UR welcome."
"I still need to drop off the key, though."
"No you don't. Fuck that guy."
Okay, then. "Dinner?"
"Sure, thai?"
Thai it was. She picked up dinner on her way home, no, back to the penthouse.
Sitting down on the couch and kicking off her heels felt heavenly. She opened up the paper carton of noodles and inhaled deeply. "Seriously, thanks for getting my stuff. The thought of going over there and facing either of them after yesterday…"
"Don't worry, that little twat won't be bothering you," Dick replied, shoveling noodles into his mouth.
"Uh oh. What did you do?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"Told him I'd break him in half if he came around to the penthouse, begging you back."
She grinned. "You told him I was staying here."
"Yep. I told him to guess whose bed you were sleeping in," he shrugged. "Not my fault he guessed wrong."
She laughed. "Well, I doubt he's all that concerned with whose bed I'm in, all things considered."
"You'd be surprised. Even cheaters don't want to be so easily replaced."
"Especially by a pretty frat boy with a massive trust fund?" she mused.
"Exactly," he smiled, looking pleased with himself.
"So, what's your plan for tonight? Partying with the Pi Sigs?"
"Not exactly… actually, I was going to talk to you about that… how do you feel about… charity work?"
She smiled, amused. "I'm all for it. I didn't realize you were all that socially-conscious, however."
He rolled his eyes. "You know, everyone has the wrong idea about the Greeks. Oh, frat boys just drink and try to sleep with drunk sorority girls. That's totally not what it's about. It's a brotherhood, or sisterhood, devoted to community building, leadership and philanthropy."
Mac looked at him as though he'd just grown a second head, then burst out laughing.
"Okay, so there's a lot of drinking and hooking up. But that other stuff too!" he protested.
She stifled her laughter. "Anyway, so you were talking about charity work."
"Our philanthropy chair is doing a study abroad during this summer session, and there's this auction tomorrow night. Like a real auction, not one of those lame silent auctions. Anyway, since Dan isn't around, Chip was supposed to MC the auction. Dumbass texted me today and said he has strep, can't talk, and he won't even be able to help set up tomorrow."
"Oh, so, you need help setting up?"
"Yeah, I mean, I wasn't even planning on going to this thing. It wasn't my gig, I did the domestic violence shelter project in the Spring."
"You did what now?" Mac blinked.
"Yeah, it was our Spring semester project. We remodeled the domestic violence shelter. Pulled out some old cabinets, installed new ones, put in some new hardware, painted, that sort of thing. We even built a new deck out back, the old one was rotting, not really safe for the kids that go through. Did a fundraiser that bought a new playground set for the backyard."
She looked at him strangely. "That's… really cool."
"Yeah, we have to do so many hours of community service for sponsored projects."
"So, this auction is for…?"
"Local children's hospital. Kids with cancer."
"Wow."
"Yeah, our philanthropy mission is helping vulnerable women and children."
"How very chivalrous," she smiled.
"Hey, that's how Pi Sigs roll. We value women," he grinned.
"Yes, I've seen that in action," she rolled her eyes. "But the charity work is impressive."
"I'm glad you think so. Keep that thought in mind. Anyway, I have to do the setup for the auction tomorrow, meet up with the auctioneer, he's going to do that fast-talking auction thing. Cool right? Oh, and MC the damn thing."
"So, where do I fit in?" she asked with eyebrows raised.
"You help me set up, and then put on something hot, and be up on stage with me to show off the products."
She momentarily choked on her noodles. "I'm sorry, what now?"
He started to repeat it, very slowly, as though she were stupid. She rolled her eyes. "I'm stuck on the part where you want me to dress up like Vanna White. Isn't there a sorority girl with big boobs and bleached hair that would be better suited for this task?"
"Nope. Because you'll be up there explaining to me what half the shit actually is. Most of it's, like, stupid overpriced art that you can't even tell what the hell it is."
"Won't there be note cards?"
"Seriously? Would you trust me with this task alone? Reading off note cards? Hundreds of thousands of dollars of art is at stake here."
She cringed. "Okay, I'll help. But if I have to wear something formal that I'll never wear again, buddy, you're footing the bill."
"On it," he said, reaching for the hotel phone on the side table. He informed the concierge of his request and, again, thrust the phone at her. "Sizes," he said, shoveling in another mouthful of noodles.
An hour later, while they were sitting around playing video games, the concierge brought up a sales girl from Donatello's Boutique. The three women took the rack of dresses into the bedroom, and it took 45 minutes to select one, and then match with shoes and accessories.
"Dude, what took so long?" Dick complained, handing her a controller after the women left. He hadn't even asked what the dress and accessories cost; he had just handed the girl his credit card and went back to playing his game.
"Do you have any idea how much that stuff even cost?" she shook her head in disbelief.
"Do you have any idea how much I'm worth?" he replied in a bored tone.
She didn't, actually. She knew he had a sizable trust fund, had inherited Cassidy's trust, and had managed to retain most of the assets of Phoenix Land Trust as well. Even so, she can't even imagine a day when she would just not even ask what designer clothes cost and would blindly hand over her credit card.
"Anyway, thanks…" she mumbled, uncomfortable about the whole thing.
They played for another hour until Dick paused the game, yawning.
"Dude, it's like 10 o'clock on a Friday. Are you going to bed? Are you sick?" Mac asked.
"No, just thought I'd get some sleep. It's been a long day and you and me have work to do tomorrow. 7 am sharp!"
"What? I thought you said the auction wasn't until 7pm?" she whined.
"Yeah… there's that much to do," Dick sighed. "I really wish Greek life was just about being drunk and getting laid."
"Suddenly I do too!" Mac groaned.
