Page 31 of The Breakup Artists

“Well, first,” Valentine says, “there’s good news—we’ve been getting closer to your daughter. In fact, that picture you saw was a direct result of us being invited to her party.”

“The invitation was never in question,” he replies. “It was the method. However, my wife has directed me to let it go. So I will. With the condition that there will be absolutely no kissing.”

I look at Tiny, who appears as taken aback as I am.

“Definitely no kissing from our side,” Tiny confirms, making room for the small caveat that sometimes they kiss us, even though we never aim for that.

He clears his throat. “Good. I just want to be crystal clear that I’m not paying for crassness and I’m certainly not paying someone to paw my daughter.”

“Of course not!” Tiny confirms. “This is about using friendship and trust to open Ella up to possibility. It’s never about seduction. Ever.”

“Just make sure you’re on track to break them up before her college-acceptance deadline,” he says like it’s purely a business deal and not his daughter’s future, and before Tiny can respond he adds, “Now I have to go; I have another call.”

And he’s gone.

Tiny presses end. “Wow. He’s a charmer.”

I coast down Ocean Avenue, following the slow pace of weekend traffic. “Authoritarian.”

“Ya think? I wonder if he talks to everyone that way or only the people lucky enough to work for him.”

I glance at Tiny. “It explains why Ella won’t discuss her life with them.”

“For real, though. All the better we took this case. They’re never going to get through to her saying things like ‘Daughter, I command you to use your sense and ignore your friends.’”

I grin at Tiny’s impression of Ella’s dad.

“But whatever you do, do not kiss Ella,” she says.

I shake my head. “You know I’d never do that. The few times it’s happened, they’ve kissed me. Not the other way around.”

“Of course they do, you sexy beast. They get their fingers all tangled in your gorgeous locks and—”

I give her a warning look.

“Fine, spoil my fun. Just be sure not to let it happen.”

“I’ll pretend to faint if I have to,” I say and Tiny laughs.

18

valentine

My parents are at work, August is job hunting with his mom, and it’s raining buckets. So I sit on my couch, flipping through magazines and periodically glancing at the water-streaked window, waiting for one of those three things to change.

My phone dings.

Bentley

You working?

Me

I wish.

Bentley

Bentley: Good. So you’re free.