Little Lies

7. Stood Up

"I mean what's the worst he could possibly do?" Rory questions from her perch upon her bed. Her feet dangle over the edge as she paints her nails a fiery red.

"He's a millionaire—I'm sure he can come up with something creative," I fret. Ever since the encounter with Leon earlier today, my nerves have sky-rocketed about going on the date. Though of course I'm not going to let that asshole deter me from pissing him off. The only thing that's keeping me going is knowing that Leon will be in his million dollar penthouse tonight, with steam coming out of his ears while he knows I'm out at dinner with his little brother.

If anything, it'd be the guilt of leading Holland on that would get me to cancel. Don't get me wrong, he's cute and he's sweet but I'm the total opposite and I don't think he'd survive with someone like me. Rory wasn't necessarily wrong when she said I was scary.

But the urge to ruin Leon's day trumps any sense of guilt I might have. Does that make me an awful person? Perhaps. But it doesn't mean he is any less of an awful person than I am. I mean, who the hell does this guy think he is, telling me what I can and cannot do. It's ridiculous and I won't stand for it. "Maybe he actually secretly likes you and that's why he doesn't want you to go out with his little brother." Rory suggests.

"No way, the man hates me," I shake my head.

"Why else would he be so persistent in getting you to cancel the date?"

"Probably because I didn't take his shit and it hurt his fragile masculine ego," I shrug my shoulders and turn around to face Rory. "How do I look, is the blush too much?" I wouldn't say I'm terrible at makeup, but I'm certainly no artist, and I wouldn't be surprised if I look like I just stepped off the stage of a theatre performance. All of those times doing theatre in high school has only taught me how to do the most dramatic and stage-worthy makeup.

"You look beautiful," She smiles all mushy. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face, but quickly hide it. I love Rory more than words can say. "You should take some pics and put them on ista or something. Maybe Mr. Millionaire will see them and get jealous."

"There's no way he'd take the timeout of his precious day to look for my socials, let alone care enough to be jealous of his brother. He can get literally anything he wants with his money and good looks, why on earth would his little brothers sloppy seconds?" I laugh.

"So you do think he's good looking?"

"Shut up!" I pick up one of my pillows and throw it at her face, hoping it doesn't land on her wet nails. Thankfully it doesn't. "You've seen him, anyone would have to be blind to not see the mans got looks."

"Sure, sure..." she wiggles her eyebrows and we both laugh hysterically.

We're interrupted by the sound of my phone going off, and I reach for it on the bed. The screen is illuminated by a single message from Holland.

Holland: Hey there's been a change in plans, instead of meeting you at the restaurant at six I'll pick you up at ten to, what's ur address?

"What is it?" Rory asks.

"Nothing, just Holland saying he'll pick me up around six." I start typing him back.

Me: Sounds good. I'm at 28 Flounder St

Holland: Cool, I'll see you in twenty.

I frown, twenty minutes? Looking at the time on my phone, I jump from the bed. "Fuck, he's gonna be here in twenty minutes and I still look like mess!" I cry, flinging myself towards my wardrobe and grabbing the first dress I see. Which also happens to be the lesser slutty dress of the two I own. The place Holland booked for dinner looked mighty fancy, so I can only hope they don't kick me out because of this dress.