“Jesus. You fucked everything up, royally. With that girl and her family.”
“Stop.”
“Just saying. It’s true.”
“You know what, Sebastien? Sometimes, things aren’t that easy. Sometimes, when someone says they’re into you, they just want a piece of you like everyone else. Sometimes, even if they don’t, and you think they might be genuine, there’s still a chance it probably won’t work out because these things just tend to go that way. You know that. Probably better than anyone else.”
“And yet, I still keep trucking along, hoping that one day, magically, something just might be different.”
“But, it’s usually not.”
“No. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up and just stay single forever. What fun is that? Being like how you are now, all old and bitter, it’s gross. I don’t want to turn into that.”
“I’m not old, and I’m not bitter.”
“Says you.”
“Thirty-two isn’t old, and if I’m wary and cautious, I have every right to be.”
“She was trying to tell you that she was into you. She seemed nice. She was even willing to sign whatever it took to say she couldn’t touch you or your money and everything else, so what’s the problem? It sounds like a bitterness issue to me.”
“I’m not bitter.”
“You have so much baggage that it’s a wonder you don’t collapse carrying it all around.”
“We can’t all be like you and pretend that getting burned doesn’t suck, and just move on.”
“It sucks. I never said it didn’t. And sometimes it sucks even more to move on, but what’s the alternative? Right, be like you are now. No, thanks.”
“Can I please get another beer?” I indicate the empty bottle.
“Nope.” Sebastien shakes his head. “It took an hour and a half to get the story about what happened out of you. Not going to give you another beer until you come up with a plan on how you’re going to fix this with Pearl. That’s a nice name, by the way. And she’s beautiful. She’d make nice babies. She’s nice too, which makes her different from anyone else you’ve dated. I really don’t think she was after your cash. She offered to pay you for the weekend charade, remember?”
“That was before she found out I was rich.”
“So what? If you can’t tell when people are being genuine versus when they’re being an asshat, you might be way further far gone than I thought you were.”
“You know what? I think this was a bad idea. I’m just going to go back to moping in the basement. Thanks for the beer. And the talk. Good to see you.”
“No way!” Sebastien leaps off the other end of the black leather couch we’ve both been sitting on. “You are not walking out of here like this! You should at least apologize to the poor girl. Or just man up and give her a chance.”
“It’s not about manning up.”
“I think it is. The thing is, you really are carrying around a bunch of baggage, and you need to stop. It’s not good for you, and it’s a lot of pressure on us to have to pull you out of whatever funk you get yourself into. It’s not awesome watching your brother waste his life rotting away in a basement playing around with technology because his computer is the only one who can stand him. You’re rich. You’re a billionaire. That’s great. Now start living your life and stop treating your money like it was the worst thing that happened to you. You’re the worst thing that happened to you. It’s your own fears and ego getting in the way of you being happy, not the money. People can still use you without money. Some people are dicks. It’s just that simple. Other people find a way to be happy. Mom and Dad have been together for years, and they’re happy. They make it work.”
“It’s not for everyone.”
“It’s not not for everyone.”
“Don’t use a double negative.”
“It’s not a double negative.”
“Oh, really?”
Sebastien looms over me menacingly. He’s a second away from shaking a finger in my face, I can just tell. “Just call her already. You said she’s an interior designer or something. Your place is boring. Get her to come over and decorate it. Apologize to her. Ask her if she still wants to date your sorry ass. Have hot makeup sex. Just do something.”
“I’m not talking to you about makeup sex.”
“Good. You should be talking to her.”
“Can I just either leave or have another beer?” I groan. “This isn’t fair. You ambushed me the second I walked in the door.”
“Because it needed to be done.”
“Says you.”
“Says me. And Mom. And Dad. And the universe.”
“Don’t bring the universe into this.”
“I can’t help it. She sounds perfect. She’s nice, she has a job, and she’s smart. Also, she’s beautiful and talented. And for some reason, she’s into you. I’d take her up on the offer before she changes her mind.”