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Erica let out a dramatic sigh and removed her bare feet from the wooden table top. She set her coffee down and walked over to me. She put her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye.
“I’m just messing with you. Chill,” she said. “Now, I don’t know what this thing is that’s going on between you two, but she seems to be more than just your personal assistant.”
“Erica, I—” I started.
“It’s okay,” she interrupted. “I’m not going to say anything to Dad.”
The tension began to leave my shoulders that felt like they were up to my ears. It was like we were back in high school and she would cover for me if I was out past curfew. I always returned the favor. There were very few times we got caught. I knew I could trust her.
“Thank you,” I said gratefully, pulling her in for a tight hug.
“Okay, you’re suffocating me now,” she said against my shoulder.
I let her go and let out a laugh.
“Now, go getyourMonica, so I can properly meet her.”
“And…”
“Apologize,” said Erica with a roll of her eyes.
I smiled and left the kitchen, eager to make the proper introductions between my sister and Monica. I had a feeling they would actually hit it off, when Monica wasn’t in a robe and taken so much by surprise.
I knocked on the bedroom door softly before entering. I found Monica sitting on the bed in an off-the-shoulder sage beach dress. Her hair was down in beachy waves. She looked stunning. The beach suited her, and we had only been here for the night. But she looked worried too. Her hands were clenched together in her lap, as if she was bracing herself for what came next.
“Hey,” I said, walking toward her, eager to comfort.
I stood in front of her and she looked up at me, her eyes full of worry. It looked like she might have been crying. I put my hands on her face and gently caressed her cheeks with my thumbs.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” I said in an almost whisper.
“How can it be okay?” she asked, her brows pulling together.
“It’s just my sister. Erica.”
“Justyour sister?”
“She’s harmless. I swear,” I assured her. “I’m sorry if she gave you a hard time. She was just messing around. She does that.”
Monica chewed on her cheek as if she didn’t know what to think.
“But what about work? Your dad. Kathy. Surely, now they’ll find out about us.” She buried her face in her hands.
“Stop,” I said, gently removing her hands and pulling her to stand. “You don’t have to worry about all of that. Erica isn’t going to say anything. She’s one of my best friends.”
It was true. Erica was one of the very few people who understood me.
That is actually astonishing, because Erica and I are completely different. She is anything but rich, and works as a journalist at a newspaper. She has a normal job and leads a normal life like many others, she would never accept a favor or anything from her rich brother, even if she has money problems. And I think she does sometimes.
But maybe that's exactly what connects us.She never really judged me for my life choices, and there had been a lot of questionable ones and I am one of the very few people who understood her humor. Sure, she gave me shit a lot of the time, just like she did right now. But deep down, she knew who I was and loved me.
I actually felt somewhat relieved that someone knew about Monica and me. It meant I had someone to talk to. Someone I could confide in.
“Okay,” said Monica warily as I wrapped my arms around her.
I tilted her chin up toward me with the crook of my finger and leaned down to kiss her. She leaned into me and wrapped her arms around me. I pulled away and looked at her beautiful face.
“Now, come on. I want you to meet my sister. Really meet her.”