“You’re right,” he said. “It was a lame attempt to be funny. I’m sorry.”
She crossed her arms. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Otherwise I need you to take me home so I can get the laundry done before work tonight.”
He looked at his feet and slowly rubbed his hands together. “The thing is, part of me hoped that whole thing last night was a joke. It wasn’t. I looked Beau up this morning while you were in the shower.”
Lola pursed her lips. She wasn’t angry because he’d done it, but because all day, during any moment she’d had alone, she’d been fighting herself not to do the same thing. “And?”
“He could probably buy Hawaii if he wanted. He really does have that kind of money, and apparently he’s got lots of women to choose from.” Their eyes met, and Johnny frowned. “It’s intimidating that a guy like that wants my girlfriend.”
Lola’s shoulders loosened. The moment either of them started to feel insecure about their relationship was the moment they opened it up to problems. “You’re looking at it wrong,” she said sympathetically. “You have something he wants but can’t have. In fact, maybe the only thing a guy like that can’t have. That should make you feel good.”
“Except that it doesn’t. He’s a millionaire. I’ve been working since I was seventeen with nothing to show for it. I’m an asshole. And I suck at football.”
One corner of Lola’s mouth rose. “You’re the best one out there.”
“You have to say that because you’re my girlfriend.”
“True, but it doesn’t mean shit. Those guys are terrible.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. We’re pretty bad.”
“You should all stick to video games.”
He pretended to look hurt. “Geez, you don’t have to drill the point home.”
She uncrossed her arms. “And you aren’t an asshole. I bet in order to get to that level of success, Beau had to step on some people. You’d never do that. You’re a good person, Johnny. That’s what matters in the end.”
He considered that a moment. Lola saw their friends heading for their cars. Thinking the conversation was over, she started to walk away, but Johnny said, “He’s a venture capitalist.”
Lola paused. “What?”
“Beau. He invests in tech startups, but before that, he built a website that sold for millions.”
“Oh.” Lola wasn’t impressed. She was more concerned with why Johnny was still talking about it.
“According to the article I read online,” Johnny continued, “it took him like a decade to do it. He would build a website, but either someone else would beat him to it or he couldn’t get investors. He didn’t give up, though, even when the market crashed. Took him seven times before something finally stuck.”
Lola’s throat was dry. That only reiterated one of the few things she knew for sure about Beau Olivier. “He’s persistent,” she said.
“The company that bought his website ended up squashing it or something, so it never saw the light of day. Now he’s co-founder of Bolt Ventures.” Johnny shrugged. “Did all that, and he never even went to college.”
Lola knew that already, but she didn’t see the point in mentioning it. Despite her curiosity about Beau’s background, the less she knew the better. She changed the subject. “Johnny, unless you’re planning on going commando tomorrow, I need to do laundry today.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “I could’ve sworn I just did it.”
“That was two months ago,” she cried with a burst of laughter. “Where do you think your clean clothes come from, invisible fairies?”
Johnny grinned and waved her off. “Hey,” he said. “Come here.”
She took a few steps, put a hand on her cocked hip and narrowed her eyes playfully. “What?”
“I’ll take you to Hawaii one day. Or wherever you want to go. Even if it’s the goddamn Pomona Swap Meet. I promise.”
Lola dropped her arm from her hip and sighed. He’d flinched when he’d said Hawaii. She didn’t know how to make it any clearer to him that Hawaii meant nothing to her. But as she was on the verge of starting up the argument again, she stopped herself. His eyes weren’t as hard as they had been the last few hours, and she didn’t want to provoke him. The back and forth was beginning to drain her.
Instead, she said, “I appreciate that, but I don’t need to go anywhere. I’m fine as long as I have one thing.”
He spoke before she could say you. “Clean underwear?” he guessed.
She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes. As long as I have that.”
* * *
Later, at the Laundromat down the street, Lola unloaded clothing from her basket into a washer. All three of the functioning machines at her complex had been occupied, which was why she normally avoided doing laundry on the weekends. She straightened up and rubbed her lower back. She’d never owned her own washer and dryer, but that was certainly something she’d be willing to splurge on with her five hundred grand. She covered her mouth at the thought and checked to make sure no one was around, as if she’d said it aloud.
She grabbed Johnny’s jeans and emptied change from the pockets into a baggie like always. Lint and a movie stub went in the trash. The last thing she pulled out was a white business card with corners rigid enough to break skin. There was a phone number and a company name. She flipped it over. It was as vague and mysterious as the man it belonged to. Across the front was only his name, printed in stiff, sharp letters.
Beau Olivier.
5
Vero whistled low, craning her neck to see through the neon maze that was Hey Joe’s front window. “Check out those wheels.”
The door was propped open for the seventy-degree weather. In the early-evening dusk, a man in a suit got out of an Audi. Lola and Johnny, crowded behind the bar with Vero, looked at each other.
“Let me handle this,” he said.
“What’s going on?” Vero asked. “Is it the money guy?”
Lola’s gaze snapped between Veronica and Johnny. “You told her?”
“Personally, I would’ve accepted the offer,” Vero said, a teasing smile on her face. “Wonder how he feels about redheads.”
“It’s prostitution,” Lola said.