Page 29 of Exchange of Heart
‘Your boss is seeing your mother?’ My forehead creased.
A laugh burst from Corey like the air of an untied balloon. ‘My boss is my father, who is married to my mother.’
‘Your boss is your father?’ My mouth dropped and I shook my head. ‘I knew it. You’re a nepo baby.’
Corey tried to rake his hand through his hair, barely getting to the end of his scalp before all my black hair knotted in a giant ball around his fingers. He tapped his right toes against the ground and bit his lip. ‘None of this was my choice.’
Corey was exactly who I thought he was – an entitled rich kid. ‘Yes, how sad. To be given a job earning way more than you probably deserve, locked away in a penthouse with city views and takeaway containers in the bin. We had a deal for our final exam, that I would admit you deserved your position if you scored higher than me. How could I ever think you deserve your job now?’
‘I deserve my job because I work my ass off.’
I tried to laugh, but it was borderline sad at how out of touch with reality he was. ‘But you didn’t work your ass off to get there. Not like I have. It was like climbing a staircase for you. You simply lifted your foot, and it landed a step higher. For some of us, our feet are glued to the same step.’
‘You have no idea what it’s been like for me.’
‘I’m sure that man over there would sympathise with you.’ I pointed to a man who possibly hadn’t bathed in weeks, huddled in a brick corner with coins scattered across a towel in front of him.
‘Yeah, yeah. I get it.’ He rolled his eyes.
‘No, Corey. You don’t,’ I snapped. How would he ever understand that every man I met seemed to glide through their careers without any obstacles, and I was desperate for the same?
‘It’s not my fault.’
‘You work with numbers, so understand this. My give-a-fucks are in the minus region right now.’ I crossed my arms and walked to the car.
The audacity of that spoiled brat. Whining about working for his father who rewarded him with a pay cheque big enough to afford a freaking Lexus when mine didn’t even pay child support. I may never make it to Forbes Magazine, but at least I had my dignity.
CHAPTER NINE
Corey
Umbrella-less, I pulled into the curb outside Nora’s apartment. It’s lack of presence may be the final strand that snaps, creating a distance so far from my father there’s no coming back. The green images Nora kept referring to as aliens were pictures I’d drawn as a child based on my father before he saw me as a constant disappointment. Without that reminder, I worried I’d forget my father wasn’t always terrible. I couldn’t believe I’d left it on the ground because I was worried about a little electrocution.
Neither of us unbuckled, and neither spoke. We were two regular people trapped inside each other’s bodies, with regular-people problems.
Nora hadn’t spoken since learning my father was my boss, and I knew better than to bother with a pitiful attempt at convincing her I had other dreams. I used the only conversation she’d be interested in – anything related to switching back. ‘I tried searching online, you know?’
‘For the umbrella?’
‘No.’ The words whooshed from my mouth with a hint of frustration. ‘To see if this had happened to anyone else.’
‘Oh, right. So did I,’ Nora admitted.
‘Nothing. Only stories and movies.’
‘And really bad fanfiction.’ Nora’s face scrunched like a disgusted Shar Pei.
My fists tightened, and I banged my head against the headrest. We’d arrived at too many dead ends to keep faking optimism. Even Nora – to whom it came naturally – had struggled to plaster the smile on her face today.
‘So, what, we try again tomorrow?’ Nora asked.
‘I have a better idea.’ I adjusted my crooked hat and looked past her to the bar outside her window.
‘Drinking in a seedy bar?’
‘Fuck yes, drinking in a seedy bar.’
The golden sting of whiskey burned my throat as I threw back my drink, the only familiar sense in this tiny body. Nora nursed her piña colada with large hands while her grey eyes looked from us, the sticky bar counter, the peeling blue paint on the walls, and back to us again.
