Page 8 of The Parent Trap

She sighs. “I kept hoping you’d reveal some, like, hidden depths. Maybe start thinking about getting more than just a quick suck-and-fuck out of me.” She opens her door. “I guess I was mistaken.”

“I guess so,” I say.

“Wow.” She shakes her head. “You really are an asshole, aren’t you?”

I nod. “You knew that when we met, though. I’ve never hidden it.”

“And you’re just…cool with it? Being an asshole?”

“It’s always worked for me. Why stop now?” I wink at her. “See you around, Destiny.”

She just huffs and shakes her head and climbs in. Rolls her window down and ducks, peers at me. “Don’t call me, Thai—I’ll call you.”

Her tires squeal as she peels out around the corner and out of the parking garage under the building.

Guess the BJ appointments with Destiny have come to an end.

Dell calls back before I’ve left the parking garage. “Hey, bro. So, I’ll just meet you in San Francisco.”

I laugh. “You’re three hours away, Dell. How do you propose to do that?”

I can hear his shit-eating grin. “Dad’s finally letting me take the helicopter.”

“Oh?”

“Legit. It’s a little one, and it’s only got four seats plus the pilot, but shit, it’s faster than driving. He’s letting me take it down there.”

“That’s pretty sick, actually. You gotta take me up when you get here. I’ve been after Dad to get one for years but so far no luck.”

“What a cheap-ass, right?”

“No shit,” I say. “Like, come on, dude. You’ve got hundreds of millions stashed away in literally six different offshore banks. Just spring for a damn chopper.” I’m out of the garage, now, tires squealing as I peel out of the garage, because what’s the point of having 710 horsepower if you don’t drive like it? “So, you’re actually working? What are you doing?”

He sighs. “It’s such bullshit. I’m working with the marketing department. Errand bitch stuff, making copies, proofreading designs, monitoring mass print jobs, answering phones, shit like that.”

“At least it’s not manual labor, right?”

He laughs. “As if, bro. My sister is such an overachieving bitch, though, for real. The shit she said to me, you have no idea.”

“Just becauseshewants to work for a living doesn’t meanyouhave to.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not, motherfucker.”

“Neither can I,” I say with a laugh. “What’s your dad think about you actually working?”

He huffs dismissively. “I don’t think he even knows. The old fart has pretty much tapped out, for the most part. Dee pretty much runs the whole show in all but name.”

Old fart? That’s his dad. Even for me, that’s a bit…I dunno. It just makes me a little uncomfortable. I’m not, like, best friends with my father, but I respect him enough to not refer to him as an old fart.

“So. How’s your sister?” I hear myself asking.

Dell cackles. “What, like you suddenly care?”

“Hell no,” I say, immediately. “I don’t know why I even said that.”

“The day you and Delia can spend a single second in each other’s presence without resorting to actual knife fighting is the day Isettle down.” The way he says this makes it sound like a curse, like the worst thing he can think of.

“I could get along with her. She’s the one who hates me.”