“You think I’m maternal?” Maybe Crystal sees something in me that I don’t see in myself.
“No, I just don’t think you’re that good at birth control.”
“You have a point. I don’t even know if I’m on it.” Bad sex with JP flashes through my mind and I cross my fingers that I have an IUD or am naturally infertile.
Crystal gives me a look and I backtrack. “Not that a baby is the end. Babies are the beginning…” #not.
She shakes her head. “You just have to be woman enough to handle it.” I think she’s trying to convince herself with that statement but I give her a big “Whoop whoop, you go girl” kind of reaction.
In the interest of looking like I’m not spending all day obsessing about Max, I post a pic of all of us in the messy kitchen. Crystal looks like she’s going to try to kill me a second time (that joke is never going to get old) and Kai looks angry.
“Hey, do you have to work this morning? Because I have a proposal.” I wait for her to respond.
She looks up from preparing more bottles for Kai. The planning it takes to be a mom. Geez. “What’s that?”
“Let’s go shopping. My treat.” After paying Crystal, I have twenty-five grand left in the Crown Royal bag. About another ten needs to go to the bank, and I owe Max for his “work,” but I definitely have enough for new clothes. I’ve been wearing the same dress since I left the hospital. It’s done good, but it’s time to retire it.
After washing a couple of dishes, Crystal says, “Shopping sounds great. I have the day off. Actually, I have all the days off. I just quit Walmart, so we better get GoldRush off the ground for real.”
I squeal and Crystal pretends to look exasperated.
Crystal’s mom leaves the kitchen, muttering something about loud vegetarians.
* * *
Crystal bundles a sleeping Kai in a BabyBjörn and we ride the bus to the mall. We immediately buy lattes and take a selfie with them. Did you really have a coffee if you didn’t post it online? I might be Mia 2.0, but some things haven’t changed.
Crystal looks at it and says, “Um, how about a filter. That zit on my chin is…”
“Nope. This is Project Honesty. I’m changing my life completely. No filters. No lies.”
Finally getting some new clothes. Good-bye yellow dress!
Max likes that one right away.
He’s thinking about me. He’s following along.
Crystal rolls her eyes. “You’ve got it bad, girl.”
“Tell me about it.”
This shopping experience is much better than our last. Crystal doesn’t storm out of the dressing room and put her Walmart uniform back on. “I’m glad to be rid of the damn thing!” she says.
“What store is the most me?” I ask Crystal. “I want to start life over as my true self.”
“I liked that yellow dress. At least, I did a week ago.’ ”
“You’re right. I’ll just get a new one. It’ll be my uniform, like I’m an adult Dora the Explorer.”
Forever 21 turns out to be the ticket. They’re all knockoff red carpet looks at a fraction of the price. What can I say, I might be real, but I’m a knockoff of the original.
I look for something similar to my beloved yellow Prada gown that falls somewhere between prom and sundress. I buy a whole bag of dresses, T-shirts, and jeans. I take a dressing room selfie. Finally changed clothes! Smell and look better.
Max likes it.
Crystal only buys clothes that go with four-inch heels and false eyelashes because that’s the real her.
Standing in the middle of the mall, next to an obligatory fountain, I look into Crystal’s eyes, madman-level intense—I can feel it. This is my yippee ki-yay, motherfucker moment. My voice cold as steel, I say, “This shopping spree ain’t over yet, baby.”
Her expression says duh! “Obviously. We haven’t gotten shoes yet.”
“True. We need shoes, but I’m thinking of something else. Something big.” Nakatomi Tower big, and I am John McClane. “Jingle Bells” is playing in the background.
I text JP: I know things are weird between us, but I have a business proposition.
??
At least he’s talking to me.
I respond. I’d like to make an offer on GoldRush. The building and the business.
I show Crystal the text and wait for her to get excited. Instead, she says, “Girl, are you nuts?”
“Maybe. It’s a good idea, though. For one, JP can’t sue us for stealing his intellectual property and all that. Two, it can be our GoldRush headquarters. We can have desks and fresh flowers and a coffee pot—it’ll be our office. I’m thinking that we can phase out the stripping.”
She laughs. “Phase out the stripping? How does that work? Like we move in some desks and a copy machine and only have stripping a couple of hours a day?”
“I don’t know. We can work out the details later. And maybe that’s a bad idea. You are reeeeaaaally good at it.”
I already offered you the club. It’s yours.
I like the price, but what strings are attached to that deal?
I want to buy it. You already gave me enough.
Haven’t bought the yacht…yet.
Uh-oh.
He still thinks there’s hope.
You’re giving me GoldRush. Why?
You were right. Whatever happened to the employees at that place happened under my watch. I just wasn’t looking.
I spend a crazy long time staring at that text.
He says, I know you’ll do a good job.
I’ll buy it.
You don’t have enough money.
Technically true. I could put a lot of cash down with the money from the new bachelors Jules has brought in.71 Maybe buy it contract for deed. I know that goes against the kind of advice dads give, but it’s not like I care. No dad to object in this case.
No more discussion. I’ll have the papers drawn up tomorrow. It’s a gift. Do whatever you want with it.
I start to tear up. JP is being so good to me, so good to everyone. He doesn’t seem to want to break up. I think he’s trying to win me back and I’m posting selfies in the Forever 21 dressing room for a guy who might not want me.
I don’t know how much that place is worth, but it’s got to be at least hundreds of thousands of dollars—maybe even a million.