Me: You ever have a meeting so boring you want to just melt your own face, Indiana Jones-style?
Brent: Absolutely. Those are face-melters. Although I think face-melting is like a good thing if you’re a Heavy Metal band?
Me: Fortunately, neither of us are in a heavy metal band. Seriously though, I want to run away from this.
Brent: If it helps at all, I’m stuck doing paperwork for the rest of the day. Running a clinic takes a ton of typing.
Me: I’m literally jealous of that.
Brent: Come on over and help.
Me: You’d like that.
Brent: I would. Although I doubt you’d be much help.
Me: Why not? I’m great at typing. I’m doing it right now.
Brent: I just suspect you’d be more of a distraction than anything else.I smile a little bit and come back to the conversation when Michael says my name.
“Sorry, Amber, did you hear me?”
“What? Oh, uh, yeah.”
He grins. “So you agree then. We’ll push for concessions from our dads to make this happen. We might as well get something out of the deal instead of them just profiting off our situation.”
“Uh,” I say, not even sure how to put my reaction to that into words.
“Great.” He jumps up. “I’m so glad we met, Amber. And I’m really glad you’re hot.” He laughs, an oddly high-pitched giggle. “Seriously, if you were ugly, I would’ve been out.”
“Yeah. Right.”
He swoops inside, leaving me alone for a second. I hesitate before struggling up to my feet. Of course he didn’t stay behind to help me up.
That asshole isn’t going to think about anyone but himself. He’s so worried that his potential future wife is going to be ugly that he doesn’t stop to consider whether he’s a catch himself or not.
And he’s not, not at all.
I limp back inside. Our dads are sitting at the island, talking to each other, drinking some whiskey. They laugh loudly, Michael included, as I approach. Michael winks at me and puts a finger to his mouth and I smile back weakly.
“Well, kids, you two get along?” Dave asks.
“I hope so,” Dad says, giving me a stern look.
“She’s great,” Michael says. “Very practical.”
“That sounds like a good quality,” Dave says. “Practical can help build a family. Help build a life for a very long time.”
I smile at them and all I want to do is scream.
“That’s my girl,” Dad says. “Real practical and smart. She’s an asset, I’ll tell you what.”
“Oh, I agree. She’s an asset.” Michael grins at me and I very nearly do scream.
This whole thing is completely insane.
“So then. The kids get married, we bind our families together, and you let us drill on your land. We profit split from there, make sure we’re all taken care of.” Dad cocks his head at Dave. “That about sum it up?”
“That about does it,” Dave agrees. “We’ll work out the finer details, but I think that’s the plan.”
Michael just smiles stupidly and I want to ask them if anyone’s wondering whether I’m going along with this shit or not. I mean, I never once said I was going through with any of this. Dad just assumes I will, just bullies me into it, and gets angry if I don’t. He shoves me and—
I shut my eyes. I don’t let myself go there.
When I open them again, Dad’s hustling us out. I limp along, practically being dragged by him. My leg aches as he makes me move faster than I want to.
“Y’all stop by again soon then,” Dave says at the door. “Okay?”
“Sounds good,” Dad says.
“Bye, Amber.” Michael gives me his goofy smile and I feel his eyes drift down to my legs.
Dad drags me away. I haven’t said a word since I came back inside and now he practically shoves me into the truck.
“That went good,” he says as we drive off. “That went really good. You were nice to that boy? He seems okay, Amber. He really does. I think you might even like him, yeah?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Well, okay, you’ll get there. It’s okay. I think this is going to work out. Dave’s a reasonable man and there’s a lot of oil on this land. If I can tap into it… Amber, we’ll be rich. Do you hear me? Richer than you can even guess.”
“I bet,” I say, although the words catch in my throat.
I still want to scream.
My phone vibrates.Brent: How’s your pain today?
Me: Not too bad. You know, nobody asks me that?
Brent: They should.
Me: Thanks. I’m just grumpy. Maybe I will stop by the clinic. I could use a little stretching.
Brent: I’m sure. You’re just trying to get free medical treatment.
Me: Can you call what you do to me “medical treatment?”
Brent: Yes.
Brent: Mostly.
Brent: Although the stuff I want to do… well, that’s different.
Me: You’re a pig.
Brent: Please. You like it. You’re sitting there, smiling like a moron.