Sex, Lies and Designer Shoes

He sighed, stretching out his legs as he confessed, “Look, I was a jerk when we first met. There’s something about you that gets under my skin. I grew up really poor. I’m talking the kind of poverty that no one likes to think about. It makes it hard to see all these people who have so much act so crappy to their fellow human beings. I’ve always believed that if you have extra you should give a little extra. But that doesn’t seem to be the prevailing attitude around here. Los Angeles is a whole other world and not a very generous one from what I can see.”

“I try to donate when I can. I mean, I don’t do it as much as I should but I have a few charities that I like to donate to.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You’re an heiress and you never have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, but when I was growing up I went days without food. My old man was a bastard drunk, and a mean one at that. If it weren’t for my older brother—well, let’s just say I probably wouldn’t be here today. Being hungry is something kids should never have to experience. There are basic rights a human being should have and food is one of them.”

CoCo didn’t know how to respond. She’d never gone a day in her life knowing the pangs of hunger. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that. You’re right, every kid deserves food. But that’s really no reason to take it out on me just because I didn’t experience the same kind of childhood. I don’t mean to ruin this nice moment we’re having but you came at me with an attitude from the moment we met. And it wasn’t really fair. You didn’t know me from anyone and you judged me.”

“True,” he admitted. “However, I hate to say this but I wasn’t too far off the mark. I might’ve come off a little brusque but you were worse. What’s that say about you?”

“It says that I don’t like strangers crashing my party,” she answered coolly. “If I was nice to every single person who just randomly walked up to me, who knows who I’d be inviting into my life? I might not know what it’s like to live in extreme poverty but you don’t know what it’s like to live with extreme wealth. People can’t be trusted most times. Your inner circle becomes smaller and smaller and it’s out of necessity, not because you don’t like people. You never know who wants to rip you off.”

He was openly confused. “If that was the case, why did you have a house filled with people that you didn’t even know? You can’t tell me that all those people who came to your party are your personal friends. I guarantee half of those people were only there because they wanted to say they’d attended a CoCo Abelli party. I hate to break it to you, princess, but you have a reputation and it isn’t a pretty one.”

She blinked. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Why do you think the paparazzi follow you? It’s because you’re always getting yourself into trouble. Getting drunk, wardrobe malfunctions, partying too hard...it paints a picture.”

“It’s not my fault that photographers follow me around,” she said bitterly, embarrassed. “What if someone with a camera was always in your face every time that you went out? You can’t tell me that you haven’t made mistakes, maybe drank a little too much or whatever with friends. I make a mistake and it ends up all over the tabloids. That’s not my fault.”

“I’m sorry I don’t buy the ‘poor me’ routine. You put yourself in these positions and they capitalize on them. You say I don’t know what it’s like to have extreme wealth, you’re right. I don’t. But I know for certain I wouldn’t be out getting drunk and giving the paparazzi so much to work with.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s an expectation and understanding that if you run in certain circles you’re going to have to host certain parties.”

“Screw those circles. Doesn’t sound like the kind of circle I’d want to be in.”

“It’s easy for you to judge because you don’t live my life.”

“Absolutely. It’s also easy for me to see that what you’re doing isn’t healthy. You’re too close to the situation, you can’t see that you’re screwing up your life.”

She didn’t have to listen to this. Or did she? Where was she supposed to go? She was stuck in a tiny room. “Okay, story hour is over. Somehow we can’t even have a basic conversation without insulting one another. How about we just spend the next couple of days refraining from saying a single word to one another. Sound like a plan?”

“I have one final thing to say about this, because it seems like no one else in your life has the balls to tell you what you don’t want to hear. Anyone who would encourage you to get shit-faced drunk or high on pills doesn’t care about you—you’re simply the entertainment for the night. So you have money... No one says you have to act like an asshole. You could be giving. You could be generous. You could make lives better for other people. But instead you spend your time thinking only of yourself and how everything in the world affects you. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but the world is bigger than the circle you’re occupying.”

6

WHY COULDN’T HE KEEP his damn mouth shut? Things had been going smoothly—and then he had to go and lay all that truth on her like a load of bricks. It wasn’t his job to be her Jiminy Cricket. If she didn’t have a conscience about how she spent her life or how she frittered away her blessings, that was her problem. So why did it bother him so much that she refused to see the truth? He didn’t know her, not really. True, all he knew about her was from the tabloids and maybe that was his fault for only caring to look that deep, but it drove him crazy when people did so little for their fellow man.

“You know, I’ve seen people with so little to their names that they could carry everything they owned on their person, and yet they’ll be the first to offer you something if you need it. And then I’ve worked with people who owned yachts and mansions and throw lavish parties for their dogs but wouldn’t drop a dollar into a collection cup. There’s something wrong with the world when that’s okay.”

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