Liar Liar

I feel the tension leak from my body when I realise what she’s trying to convey. Is what I’m complaining about really so bad?

‘Yes, very nice. And very fancy. An apartment in the swankiest building in Monaco, the kind with million-dollar views.’ I throw out my arm as though inviting her to look, which is a little stupid, considering she’s not physically here.

‘Has he suggested he’s expecting repayment? Like, not rent. Payment in kind?’

‘No.’

‘Has he made any kind of demands?’

‘He’s bossy as fuck, but no.’

‘But if it’s upsetting you, then you’re worried he might?’

‘No. At least, I don’t think so. I haven’t even spoken to him about it. It was more like a decree from his assistant. But Amber, I kissed my boss—at work!’

‘Yeah. Me, too.’ She shrugs, her expression unrepentant.

‘This is different. I got caught.’

‘Same. We were busted by his mom, and there’s no beating that in the embarrassment stakes. I’m going to suggest something to you, but you have to promise not to blow up or even interrupt, all right?’

‘You think I should leave,’ I reply immediately. ‘I knew you’d think that was the right thing to do.’

‘No interrupting, Rose.’

‘Fine.’ On my screen, Amber’s lips purse. ‘I said fine!’

‘I think you’re frightened. I think the reality of him is scaring you. He’s not a backpacker or a tourist or a deadbeat—’

‘I do not date deadbeats!’ I protest. I learned to spot these before I was twelve years old. Learned to spot them. Learned to avoid ’em.

‘You’re right. You date pricks. Men who are emotionally stunted, which suits you just fine because you don’t want them to stick around. And now that you’ve found someone who might be a little more serious. Someone who is financially stable—’

‘Financially stable? The man is as rich as Croesus!’

‘And your point is?’

‘Rich men are dangerous, and I don’t like them,’ I reply mulishly.

‘Byron is rich. You like him.’

‘I like Byron for you.’ I don’t mention that if she wasn’t such a great friend, I’d probably hate her. Her life looks so great. ‘I can’t see me becoming a rich man’s plaything.’

Amber bursts into laughter, and though she seems amused, I begin to worry I’ve upset her. I don’t have to worry for long.

‘Well, I tell you, it’s not exactly what it’s cracked up to be. Diamonds can be pretty hard to sleep in. So lumpy.’ She wiggles her shoulders as though recalling that exact discomfort. ‘And many an evening, I’ve thought I should’ve married a man who came home stinking of sweat and beer rather than success.’

‘Hardy-har,’ I reply, unimpressed. ‘The difference is, you’re his wife. Byron has always been respectful of you.’

‘You weren’t there when he got handsy in the laundry room back when I was the nanny to his poor motherless twins. And you weren’t there when he was looking at me like he was trying to make my clothes disintegrate. Of course, he respects me. Always has, always will, if he knows what’s good for him. Rich or poor, there’s nothing wrong with a man who wants to treat you right.’

‘Treat me right so long as there isn’t a desk around.’

‘There’s more space on a desk than a washing machine.’ From the other side of the world, she sends me an eloquent look. ‘What is it exactly that you’ve got against men with money?’

‘Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe the imbalance of power?’

Even as I say this, something tweaks at my memory, my mother’s caution almost curling around my ear. All men will take you for a ride if you let them, sweetie, but the fall is harder when you’re dropped by a rich man. A speculative opinion, I guess. Mom never had any luck with men. I don’t remember many of them holding down a job, let alone them having a little cash in their pocket. You can’t rely on anyone but yourself. Now, that was the truth.

‘Honey, an imbalance of power sounds like the difference between dating a rich guy and a rich asshole. Different animals, different experiences.’

‘Then I don’t know what it is.’ My tone is borderline defensive.

‘I do. You’re scared.’

‘You haven’t seen the size of this apartment. I feel like I’m being groomed!’

‘Really?’ she deadpans. ‘Has he asked you to call him daddy? To sit on his knee?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.’ Her words sound serious, her expression something else entirely. ‘Look, if you’re unhappy, you can always go home. Or maybe you can take my advice.’ Her gaze is almost dancing.

‘I think I’m frightened to ask.’

‘I was going to say wait to see how things go, but it occurs to me that I have something better to say.’

‘Now, I’m officially terrified.’

‘I think you should pull up your big girl panties and ride that man like the stallion he is.’

‘How do you know he’s a stallion?’