The Finest Thing Money Can't Buy

dial tone ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

r u mine? - arctic monkeys

art deco - lana del rey

touch-tone telephone - lemon demon

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Dress nice, he had said. Dress nice.

That's a big ask for me.

I grew up in Kaneville, Illinois. Don't say you know where it is, because unless you're from Illinois, that's a lie. Every now and then, my family would go into Chicago to buy nice clothes from Marshall Field. Other than that, all of my clothes were bought at the Target in Aurora or one of the boutiques in town.

I rifled through my closet for anything that would be presentable. Then, I saw it. My black Calvin Klein dress from graduation. It was sleeveless, which would be fine for the early September night. This and my black heels would be perfect for tonight.

I got dressed, careful not to crease the dress. Then, I went into my bathroom and fixed my makeup.

"Where is it?" I asked, rifling through my makeup bag for one specific lipstick, a deep wine red.

"Found it!"

I took the cap off and twisted the tube, applying it to my lips. I mussed my hair, getting it in place.

"Lookin' good."

I sat in my living, waiting for Patrick.

What if he doesn't show?

I looked at the clock. 7:20. He should be here in ten minutes.

What if he isn't?

"You comin' out tonight?"

"Nah, Neil said he's taking me out tonight."

"I'm tellin' ya Cat, that boy's trouble."

"How can he trouble lookin' that good?"

Nancy left our dorm and me to my devices. I sat there twiddling my thumbs, waiting and waiting for Neil to show up. Neil Grueber, the hottest guy in my statistics class and quarterback of the Fighting Illini football team, had asked me on a date. Naturally, I was incredibly nervous. Sure, he'd been flirting with me a ton, but what if he was just faking?

6:55

He should be here soon.

7:00

Maybe he's just running late

7:15

It's raining, maybe he's caught up in that?

7:45

Maybe he's sick?

8:30

Knock, knock.

I ran to the door and opened it. Neil was there. His breath reeked of cigarettes and cheap beer.

"Hey Kitty," he said in a voice that made my skin crawl.

"Neil." He leaned in to plant a sloppy kiss on my neck. I pushed him away.

"Where were you?"

"Don't worry about that, Kitty. I'm here now."

"You have hickies!"

"Don't worry about that."

"Is there someone else?"

He raised his hand and struck me across my face, leaving a crimson mark on my cheek.

"Of course there is, don't be stupid."

"I thought I was special."

"Look, Kitty, guys like me can't settle for one girl. Especially not a girl like you. You've got a great body, but no real man would want to date such a loud girl."

"Loud?"

"A real woman would know her place, as a wife and mother. Look at you, you're 21, no fiance. You should've just stayed on the farm. At least there, you'd have a purpose."

Knock knock

I got up and went to the door. "Who is it?"

"Who do you think?" Lo and behold, it was Patrick.

"Hey."

"You look nice."

"So do you."

I could barely believe everything that was happening. I was someone who could legally drive at 12, as long as it was the family tractor, someone who got a fresh pair of boots for her birthday and Christmas, someone who lived on a "property". And yet, here I was, on the arm of some Wall Street vice president. He went to Harvard Business School, I went to UIUC. His father owns P&P, my daddy owns a ranch. We were worlds apart, but tonight, he was leading me into some fancy restaurant that would make my wallet cry.

"So, Catalina," he said, pulling a chair out for me, "where are you from?"

"Illinois. Small town near Chicago."

"Chicago is a nice place." I nodded in agreement.

"And what brings you to New York?"

"I got a very good offer from Paul Allen. He had a meeting with my old boss in Chicago, saw me, and hired me on spot."

"Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"Yeah, he was really nice about it."

Patrick was silent for the rest of dinner and the whole taxi ride back to my place.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked as I unlocked my door.

"It's late."

"I have a nice couch."

He smiled at me, silently saying "No way in Hell am I sleeping on a couch".

"Kidding! I would never make anyone sleep on the couch."

"I had a good time tonight, Catalina."

"Me too, thanks for taking me out."

I open my door and was about to step in when Patrick stopped me.

"I have something for you."

He hands me a tube of very nice looking toothpaste.

"Thank you, Patr-"

"Shhh that's not all."

"Wait what el-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he had one hand on my cheek, one hand on my waist, and his lips on mine. He felt soft and buttery. I couldn't help but melt into him.

"Catalina..."

"Yes?"

"Take me inside."