Page 19 of Just for the Cameras
“Walk me through the conversation,” Everly says as she crosses her legs in her chair.
After work, I went home, changed, showered, and then put on a pair of comfortable yoga pants and a baggy zoo shirt, not caring who I ran into because I had one thing on my mind—talking with my friend.
Plus, I have zero intention of running into anyone of the opposite sex who would catch my interest. My perspective on life changed after livingin Peru for several years, studying flamingos and sleeping in a permanent tent with no running water. I want a simple life where I can share a milkshake with a friend and spend time with my flamingos but then go home to the quiet of my apartment and work on sudoku while listening to moody music.
“Well, I showed him around the zoo, almost sent him flying out of the golf cart—”
“Uh, what?”
“He made me mad and I might have been driving erratically. The first time I saw him jolt forward, I chuckled to myself and, well, I kept it going until he lost his grip and nearly flew out the side. My braid was the only thing that kept him inside the cart.”
She taps her chin. “Care to elaborate on the braid thing?”
“He grabbed my hair.”
“Ooh, really?” Her eyes light up.
“Everly, please. A little decorum. You’re just as bad as him.”
“Did he make a comment about pulling your hair?” She’s far too excited about the prospect.
“Yes, and it was immature and crass. I don’t wish to revisit the comment.”
Because I hate to admit it, but…the way he talked about tugging on a woman’s hair, it made me have thoughts.
Dirty thoughts.
Thoughts I shouldn’t have about such an insufferable man.
“Fine. Continue,” she says with a wave of her hand.
“Thank you. Where was I? Oh yes, I showed him around while he exhibited zero interest in the zoo, he made a comment about wishing he was with the giraffes—”
“Ass.”
“I know. Then when we got back to the flamingos, I might have gotten a little ahead of myself and was telling him all about them, including theirnames and charming characteristics. After I spouted off about Martha Stewart being a thirsty bitch, I realized he was judging me from his unamused expression, so I cut it short—”
“Even though you could have kept going.”
“Exactly, I would have talked about all twenty-six of them. But I wasn’t going to subject myself to his visual harassment, so we walked back to the flamingo building, where he took the opportunity to point out that I was wearing high-waters.”
“What?” Everly roars as she sits taller. “He said that?”
“Yes. I got so embarrassed, I’ve never felt my cheeks flame hotter. I didn’t know what to do, so I told him to wash the dishes, and then I vanished into the bathroom, where I told myself not to cry.”
“Oh my God, Maple.” She reaches out and takes my hand. “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. Ugh, I hate him.”
“I do too,” I say. “Seriously, I’ve spent maybe three, four hours with the man in total, and I don’t think I’ve ever disliked someone so much. Like he’s going out of his way to be a dick. And I told you what he said about the flamingos, right?”
“Uh, yeah. He seems like a giant douche. Like, dude, you’re on assignment to raise the public opinion of your team, and you’re not doing yourself any favors.”
“I know.” I lean back in my chair. “We need this money, Everly. It’s important. I know Phil could drop the flamingos anytime and build a different exhibit. He’s even talked about making a merchandise building in that area. The stupid chicken-wire fence surrounding the exhibit ensures that making a connection with the birds is impossible. And I just feel like teaming me up with Graydon is a slap in the face. Almost as if Phil knew Graydon would be useless.”
“I told you, JP has hounded Hardy and Hudson, and they’re willing to make the donation to shut him up.”
I chuckle, thinking about the billionaire flamingo advocate who wasdropped in my lap one day. JP Cane, one of the three Cane brothers who rule the real estate market, is a champion for flamingos, pigeons, and penguins. And there’s been a rumor that another bird has been catching his attention as of late, but he’s been keeping it a secret, saying he wants to reveal it to his followers when he’s ready. But he’s already donated a lot, which has paid for some much-needed, upgraded equipment, including a new fridge, and he’s pressuring his friends, a.k.a. Everly’s husband and his brother, to donate. But I told them no.
I wasn’t going to go down the slippery slope of asking friends for money. JP is doing enough by bringing awareness.
