Fuel to the Fire

I took a good look at my ‘partner in crime’ for the next who-knows-how-long. His shaggy brown hair hung low over his face, almost completely covering his eyes, but through his hair I could still see his dull blue eyes. They looked to be almost gray, and I wondered if that was the light or their actual color. He was wearing skinny black jeans with holes in the knees and a white tank top with the AC/DC logo on it. On his feet were a pair of cowboy boots which, to me, seemed both unusual and unfavorable (at least when it came to his profession…and not the bank one).

In short, he looked absolutely nothing like my red-headed, green-eyed brother.

But then again, Shelly probably didn’t care what the hell the guy looked like, if he had a penis, she’d fuck it.

“We should probably figure out the fine details now,” I said, motioning him to sit back down on the couch. He cautiously sat down on it and turned to me. After a moment, I realized that he wanted me to start. “You probably want me to start, because, uh…it’s my idea, right? You have no idea what I’m thinking.” I coughed nervously as Garrett raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, well--”

“Wait,” Garrett interrupted. “I’m going to need my 250 bucks now.” I gaped, my mouth hanging open as he shoved his hand out, palm up, waiting for me to hand over the money.

I got up out of the recliner and walked over to my purse, which was laying on the side table next to the front door. “Is a check alright?” I asked. “I would give you cash but I’m not quite sure I have enough bills.”

Garrett was silent for a moment. “Actually, I really would prefer cash,” he replied. “Maybe you could check and make sure you don’t have enough.”

I sighed, running a hand through my unruly red hair and said, “Fine. I’ll look again.” I fingered through the contents of my purse, eventually finding every last bill amidst the array of never-ending chaos that was the inside of my bag. Adding the bills up, I came up with 251 dollars. “You’re lucky,” I said, turning around. “I have just over 250 dollars.”

“Sweet!” Garrett exclaimed. He smiled broadly as I handed him the bills, and quickly shoved them into his right front pocket. As he did that, a weird thought came over me: How much money did he usually make a night? I shook the question out of my head, not wanting to put any more focus on those kinds of thoughts than was needed, which, in short, was none.

“It’s no problem,” I said, taking my seat again in the red, plush recliner. “So, my brother, Jared, he’s…wait.” I stood up and ambled across the room, picking a photo album out of my bookcase and bringing it back to Garrett. “Do you mind?” I motioned towards the couch. “I just figured that it would be easier if I sat next to you.”

Garrett shook his head slowly and smirked. “No, I have absolutely no problem with that.” He winked at me and I shuddered.

“No,” I told him. “This is purely professional. Don’t be getting off,” I cursed myself for my lack of good word choice as Garrett giggled (like a little girl mind you), “Don’t be thinking that this is something that it’s not,” I corrected. “Because this is 100 percent not the normal thing you do.”

“Actually, you just paid me, so it’s a lot like both of my jobs,” Garrett cheekily replied.

I ignored him, hoping he would drop the subject. I flipped open to the last page of the album and pointed at a picture. “The red-head, that’s my brother Jared. The blonde,” I continued, an edge of disgust laced in my voice, “is Shelly, his lying, cheating, slut-faced whore of a girlfriend.”

“Easy there, tiger,” Garrett laughed. “I know you hate her but I bet she’s not that bad.” He glanced at the picture again. “And she’s actually really hot. This might be kind of fun,” he mused.

This time I glared at him. “This is just another game to you isn’t it?”

“Actually, yes,” Garrett replied. I sighed. “Look,” he told me. “I know this means a whole heck of a lot to you, but it really doesn’t mean squat diddly to me.”

A smile appeared on my face, and it amazed me how it was actually a real one instead of the fake one I’d been planting on my face since Garrett had arrived. “You’re right,” I said. “This does mean a lot to me. And I understand that you don’t really care about this, but for this to work you’re going to have to act like you do. I mean, I know Shelly’s not going to care what the hell you look like,” Garrett let out a small smile, “but my brother needs to believe this. It’s imperative, it’s key to this whole thing.”

Garrett sighed, stretching his arms over his head. He took one last look at the picture and then looked at me. “You have a real nice family,” he said, catching me by surprise. “And I’d really like to talk about it more with you, but I really have to go. Here,” he grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the kitchen and wrote down a phone number on it. “Call this around nine AM tomorrow. It’s my home phone, you know, so you don’t have to call my work phone.” He smirked.

I managed to send him a smile back, not wanting to be rude. “Yeah. I’ll do that. So I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” I asked, watching as Garrett made his way to the front door.

“Yeah,” he said. “Tomorrow.” He grabbed a hold of the door handle, but then paused and turned back to me. “Goodbye, Courtney. It was nice meeting you.”

“Bye, Garrett,” I replied.

And then he left.