Bad Intentions - Too Bad It’s Fake

It was the applause that did it. At least that was the story I decided to go with. Whatever the cause might have been, somewhere between where I was standing backstage and the microphone, also plated in gold, I completely forgot what I was going to say. My entire speech was deleted from my mind.

I took the statuette, which I half expected to be shaped like a dollar sign, and turned to the assembled crowd.

“I’ve always heard that it’s best to open with a joke,” I said, looking at the statuette, “but I can’t seem to think of anything funny to say right now.”

“That’s a first!” Sarah called from the table, sending a wave of nervous laughter around the room, like they wanted to laugh but weren’t sure if they were allowed to.

“My sister, everyone. She’s single by the way.”

Sarah flipped me the bird. My mom noticed and started batting at Sarah’s hand like it had burst into flames, and she was trying to put it out.

“Life is precious,” I said, finally able to look out at the crowd, “ and far too important to worry about the self-righteous who think they have to tell us what to do or what to say just because they have money or have gotten themselves into a position of assumed power.”

“Here, here!” Sarah shouted.

“That is why I do what I do. To give people the means to fight back against the authoritarians and live their own, best life as they see fit.”

“Fuckin’ A!” Sarah and Emma agreed, causing a flurry of shocked gasps and not only from Mom.

“I didn’t use to look forward to the future. Didn’t really see one honesty,” I said, “other times I didn’t think I would have one. Like when I was in the Serbian prison talking to political prisoners with armed militia all around me. If I told you the number of times I’ve been shot, you would likely drop your monocles. But now I know that I do have a future. Not only as a lawyer and philanthropist fighting the good fight in the name of human freedom and dignity but as a husband to my beautiful fiancée, Emma. If you’ll still have me, I want you to be my wife.”

Emma looked up at me with tears in her eyes.

I grinned. “I mean it, for real, and as soon as possible.”

Chapter Twenty

Emma

It’s funny how things work out sometimes. Not only did I not really know that Noah had a sister, but I also had no idea that we would get along so well. The seating had put us at the same table through our shared connection to Noah, but as far as I could tell, that was where the similarities began and ended.

To be fair, it was partly based on my prejudices. Not in terms of them being rich but more my assumption that they were snobby and raised in a blithe little bubble ignorant of the rest of the world. If that was the case, which I really didn’t think it was, the plan had failed miserably, and Sarah was even more of a hellraiser than Noah had been showing himself to be.

I guess it made sense. He did have a bit of an image to keep up, being a bit time lawyer and all. Sarah, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have a single fuck left to give. A theory confirmed when she had tried to light a cigarette within minutes of sitting down. I say tried because Mrs. Wells batted the cigarette out of her mouth before Sarah could get the lighter ignited, sending the mercifully unlit cigarette flying across the room.

“Jesus, mom!” Sarah protested.

“Language,” Mrs. Wells shouted back.

The two women started at each other like pro boxers in a promo video until, eventually, shockingly, Mrs. Wells looked away.

I felt pretty bad and oddly proud at the same time. Bad for Mrs. Wells, who clearly didn’t have the authority she thought she did, and proud of Sarah for not taking any shit, wishing I had her level of guts. I had been raised to respect and defer to my elders, even when they were wrong.

“Can you teach me to do that?” I whispered.

“Sure,” she said taking another drink of her tonic.

“Designated driver?” I asked.

“Bang on,” she said, slamming the glass upside down on the table, “sorry, old habits.”

“That’s okay,” I said.

“You drink?” she asked pointedly.

“Um, not really. I was pretty strongly discouraged as a kid. I’ll sometimes drink when I’m in the mood.”

“The mood to be naughty?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, blushing slightly.

“I knew it,” Sarah said smiling a crooked smile.

“Knew what?” I asked.

“That there was bad girl spirit in their behind that sweet facade.”

I’d never really thought of it as a facade before but in my heart, I knew that Sarah was absolutely right.