The Elite

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Three days later, I was sitting in my living room with a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, watching some old Western my dad liked. I couldn't go down to the ranch. I kept getting swarmed by people demanding to know why I had 'cheated' on Brandon. My dad was doing his best to keep them off the property but they kept coming when we weren't expecting it.

Finally, I just stopped going down. It was getting in the way of classes.

Now I was in the living room with my ice cream, still in my pajamas from two days ago, hating the media. Mostly I hated damn Polly and Nathaniel Banker.

Someone rang the door bell and I stood up wearily. Probably more reporters but my dad was expecting a delivery of his shaving cream so I opened it. It wasn't the reporters or the delivery man.

It was Nathaniel Banker and he looked like shit.

His normally sleek black hair was messy and he looked as if he hadn't showered in days. He had dark stubble on his chin. There were dark circles under his eyes and his suit was rumpled. It was the same one he wore to the dinner.

Neither of us spoke for a while. I leaned against the door jam and ate a spoonful of my ice cream.

"Looks like we're both trashed," he said in a dull voice.

"Thanks for the reminder," I snapped.

He sighed. "Can I come in?"

I shrugged and stepped to the side. "Don't see why not."

I closed the door and wrinkled my nose. He stank. He walked into the house and I narrowed my eyes at him. What was he doing here? I had no desire to see him.

Grudgingly, I grabbed a bottle of water and slammed it down on the dining room table. He grunted his thanks and I threw myself into the chair across from him, still eating my ice cream and watching him. He didn't speak so I didn't either.

"I know I'm probably the last person you want to see," he began.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"But...." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wincing at how greasy it was. "I've got a plan to help us get our lives back. It's.... It'll take a while but I know it will work."

"Not interested," I said immediately.

He cocked a brow at me. "Like hell you're not."

I rolled my eyes. "What do you want from me, Banker?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I've been cut off." My jaw dropped as he glared at the table. "I've been living in a damn run down hotel for the last three days."

"They won't even let you stay in your house?" I asked incredulously.

"They bought it for me," he sighed. "So, technically, it's theirs." He passed a hand over his eyes. "The hotel is about to kick me out."

I picked my spoon up and ate again. "So, what, you want me to help you find a job?"

"And I need a place to stay," he mumbled.

I shook my head. "I'm tired of being used, Banker. Go talk to my dad or something. I'm not letting you use me anymore."

"You're not being fair."

I looked over my shoulder as my father walked in, wiping sweat from his neck. I turned back to my ice cream.

"I don't have to be," I argued. "Thanks to him and his damn sister I can't even leave the house."

"At least you haven't been kicked out of yours," my dad said softly, sitting next to me.

I looked up, feeling a little pity for Nathaniel. It didn't last long, though, when I remembered the news report from three days ago. I stared between the two of them.

"This isn't my fault," I said. "If he hadn't been such a player, none of this would have happened!"

Nathaniel glared at me. "You didn't have to take the money!"

"Shut up," I snapped. "You know why I needed it!"

"You should pick your boyfriends better," he sneered.

"Oh my God you're such a hypocrite!" I pointed to the TV. "I've lost count of how many blond bimbos have come on the news!"

He opened his mouth to retort.

"Stop," my father said and we glared at him. "Nathan called me yesterday, Willow, and I think we should help him."

I rolled my eyes. "If you already decided then why bother having him come ask me?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to put your differences aside after this," he answered softly.

"Not a chance," we said in unison and glared at each other again.

Nathaniel slammed the bottle down and jumped to his feet. He pointed at me.

"I was at the top before you!" he shouted and I dropped my spoon, my jaw dropping. "I was the best of the best! The elite! Then you and my sister had to make that damn deal!"

I got to my feet, too. "Don't you dare blame me for all of this!" I yelled back. "You  didn't have to be such a player! None of this would have happened if-"

"That's enough," my dad interrupted. "Both of you. Now, Nathan's staying, Willow. He's going to work at the ranch."

I threw myself in my chair. "Whatever. What am I going to do while you're down there?" I glared at Nathaniel who was still standing. "Thanks to him I can't go to the ranch."

Nathaniel curled his lip angrily.

"You can do stuff up here," my dad said, stretching.

"You'll be the maid," Nathaniel sneered.

I gripped my spoon. "Shut the fu-"

"Nathan, your room is across from Willow's," my father said. He stood up. "You can wear some of my old clothes until you can buy your own. I'll lend you some of my old boots, too. You don't want to go down there in tennis shoes. Is there anymore of that ice cream, Willow? It really is hot out there."