Page 21 of Jesse

“So what have you heard about me?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I’m sure you know.”

“Yeah… but I haven’t been that guy for a while now. Not since my father died.”

She glances up at me, then quickly averts her eyes.

“I admit I was kind of a jackass when I was younger.”

“And now you’re not?” she asks, still looking forward. There’s a group of little boys in uniform showing off about a dozen feet away. For Emma’s benefit, obviously. They roughhouse and joke, laughing as they shoot her shy looks.

Kinda cute.

“Not gonna answer that?” Emma says.

“No. I mean, yeah. No. I’m not that guy anymore.”

“It’s been my experience that people don’t change much.”

“Hmm,” I say, still watching the little boys.

“So how have you changed?”

I shrug. Eat my ice cream. Think about shit. “I guess, you know. I’m not so angry anymore, maybe.”

“Angry? Why were you angry?”

“I get it,” I say, not looking at her. “People think that because of who I am, and what I have, and especially what I had growing up, that things are just perfect. But no one’s life is perfect. I’m sure you know that, right?”

“My life is pretty perfect.”

“Hmm. Well, good for you then.”

She turns her body towards me, looks me in the eyes. “No, really. I’m interested. Why were you angry? And what changed?”

“Well”—I chuckle a little—“that’s like my life story. Kinda long, and boring, and… personal. But I can give you the bullet points.”

“OK. I’m listening.”

“Well, give me a second. Because setting up my life in bullet points isn’t that easy.”

“Take your time. I’ll wait.” She licks her ice cream. Almost smiles at me.

“Let’s see… how much can I tell you…”

“Oh, family secrets, huh?”

“Kinda. But also… people, ya know. They would kill to know some of our secrets.”

“Our, meaning your family?”

“Yeah. Well, we don’t really look the part, do we?”

“What part?”

“White collar. And that’s because we’re not. Not really. My dad grew up as the son of a plumber.”

“Get out of here. Your father was one of the richest men in the world when he died.”