I swiped the bills off the floor and froze.
Impossible.
“Something wrong?” Nixon asked in an irritated tone.
“Uh, no, yeah, umm…” I didn’t really know what else to do, so I handed him the stack of bills. The same stack that was wrapped in a one hundred dollar bill, in order to cover the ten one-thousand dollar bills.
“Shit,” he muttered, then pulled out his own wallet. He swiped his card in the ATM and punched in his code, then placed the card on the little table while he pulled out his cell. “No, you ass. I didn’t have cash on me. Yes, I know I can be traced. Who pays you, dipshit? Who? That’s what I thought. Now deal with it.”
“Abandonato,” I whispered under my breath reading the card while simultaneously trying not to eavesdrop. “Is that your last name?”
He didn’t answer me. Instead he was firing off instructions to someone on the other end of the phone and grabbing the receipt.
Well, at least the checker didn’t look bored anymore. Nope, he looked like he was about five seconds away from shitting his pants.
And then things got weird. As in, weirder than they already were.
The men in suits formed a circle around us as we walked back to the car, and that’s when I saw a glimpse of something I’d only seen in movies.
A group of expensive cars in the parking lot and even more expensive-looking men and old men getting out of the cars.
Nixon said nothing as we got into our waiting SUV. Neither did I. I wasn’t sure if I should be freaked out that so many men in suits were surrounding us or what.
“Are we, um… are we safe here?” I asked in a small voice.
Monroe was already sitting in the SUV and put her hand on my shoulder. “Of course, why wouldn’t we be?”
“Oh you know, because of that.” I pointed as a man that looked as old as Grandpa pulled out a gun I’d only seen in action movies, and walked into the store.
“Um, are we witnessing a murder?”
Tex and Monroe laughed while Nixon shook his head and offered a smile. “No sweetheart, just business. That’s all.”
He handed me my wad of cash and looked back at Monroe and Tex. “You guys need to go. We have some more shopping to do, and it—”
Monroe rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I can imagine how it will be.” She smiled in my direction. “See ya later!”
They hopped out of the car and walked to the other waiting SUV in front of us.
“What was that about?” I asked, shoving the money back into my purse.
“It’s going to be a long afternoon.” Nixon whistled.
“Why?”
“Because we are freaking living our own Romeo and Juliet.” He smirked and hit his steering wheel. “Alright, new bag right?”
“Yeah, oh, and I need to pay you for the groceries too. I feel so stupid. I had no idea I had big bills, or that they even existed, or that Grandpa…” My voice trailed off. Why would Grandpa give me such big bills? Was that why he wanted me to hide it?
“Those bills went out of circulation in the fifties. You know that right?” Nixon asked.
I shrugged and started playing with the radio. “Sorry, I’ll figure out a way to cash them out so I can pay you.”
“You don’t understand.” He laughed humorously. “I would never accept your money. Ever.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s no good to me!” He snapped. “Just drop it.”
Was it because I was beneath him? Because I was from a farm and poor? I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out the window. We were silent the entire way to the mall.
Chapter Twelve
Two of the SUV’s followed us to the mall and two more were waiting for us when we got there. The minute I jumped out of the Range Rover, Nixon grabbed my hand and didn’t let go.
I wish I could say that I didn’t feel the warmth of his touch spreading all throughout my body. But I did. And it was amazing. He smiled as we made our way through the front doors, and I could almost imagine that this was normal. That we were just hanging out and shopping like two normal people.
Instead, we were being followed by a security detail that would irritate President Obama and stared at as if we were going to bomb the Food Court.
I hated to admit that I had no experience shopping. I wasn’t really sure what to do, but I didn’t want Nixon’s charity or anything. “Do they have a second hand store or something here?”
He looked horrified as if I just asked if there were any puppies to kick.
“Hell, no. Second hand store? Are you—” He cursed and shook his head. “Second hand? A freaking used clothing store?”
“Okay, you can stop repeating it already,” I snapped, trying to jerk my hand free from his vice-like grip.
“Girls like you don’t shop there.”
And there it was again. Girls like me. Girls who didn’t belong in Elite, who shouldn’t be salivating over their student body president. I felt my face heat and dropped my gaze to the ground. “Um, what about a Ross? Or Wal-Mart or something?” I was so embarrassed I couldn’t even look at him.
He stopped walking, making me almost trip as he released my hand and cupped my chin. “Trace, did you not hear anything I just said?”
Tears blurred my vision. See, that was the problem. I heard everything, and I was so tired of being told I wasn’t good enough! So exhausted pretending to be something I wasn’t when I had only been at their damn school for less than a week.
I tried to pull free.
Of course Nixon wouldn’t have any of that.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around my body and sighed into my hair, kissing my head. “You are… impossible.”
I didn’t really know what to say to that.
“Mason, don’t follow so close, alright?” Nixon said over my head to one of the security guys.
“Of course, sir.”
“Sir?” I repeated, though it was muffled from his muscled chest. He pulled back and again grabbed my hand.
“It’s a respect thing.”
“You're like twenty,” I pointed out, glad that we weren’t focusing on me and my short-comings anymore.
Nixon’s face tensed, then his face flashed with humor. “Right, twenty.” He looked away and mumbled, “Age doesn’t really matter in my world.”
“Your world?”
He didn’t look at me. He seemed to be on a mission. And then we stopped walking. Well, he stopped walking. I would have kept going, because there was no way I was going into that store.
“Prada?” I said aloud. “Are you insane?”
He smirked and pulled me toward the store.
I dug my heels into the ground, or at least I tried. But who I was kidding? Nixon was a god among men, he simply pulled my arm and I followed him into the beautifully-lit store. It was like my eyes couldn’t absorb everything I was seeing around me. So many purses and bags and colors and… A girl could die happy this way.
“May I help you?” A skinny woman in a black suit smiled in our direction. Her gaze lingered longer on Nixon than should be proper, considering he was still in college. Though to be fair, he didn’t look it. I stole another look out of the corner of my eye. Seriously, was he eighteen? He looked so much older, more mature.
“Messenger bags, do you guys carry messenger bags?” Nixon asked this as his eyes took in the walls of the brightly-lit store. “Something classy.”
The woman beamed. “Right this way.”
Within a few minutes I had five different types of bags displayed in front of me. One was a men’s leather bag which was kinda cute. The others were nylon which I guess was fine. I mean, it was Prada.
My fingers itched to check the price tags. Honestly, I didn’t even want to touch them, I mean what if the oil and germs from my hand somehow went onto the bag and—
“Trace, pick a bag.” Nixon urged me forward almost forcing me to touch the pretty objects. I reached down and then for some reason, probably my nervousness, I looked to the right. Near the counter on a display was a beautiful royal blue bag. I probably should have looked away, but I couldn’t.
My eyes widened just slightly. I cleared my throat and looked back at the bags in front of me.
I felt rather than saw Nixon walk away. Shivers ran up and down my arms at his absence.
“This one.” Nixon returned and handed the blue bag to the woman.
I didn’t want to look at her, but I couldn’t help it. Her face was impassive, but I could see a muscle twitch in her jaw. “This is a special edition—”
“For a special girl.” Nixon put an arm around me. “Then it’s perfect.”
Shaking her head, the woman walked to the counter and rang up the purchase. “That will be one-thousand seventy-five dollars and eighty-nine cents.”
I coughed. I swear it was involuntary. Was Nixon insane? All of this? For a bag? I opened my mouth to say something, but he very purposefully elbowed me while he took out his wallet and flashed her a black credit card.
The minute he handed it over she checked the name. “Can I see some ID, Mr. —”
The card dropped out of her hands. Shaking, she licked her lips and shook her head. “Nevermind.”
“What?” Nixon leaned forward. “You don’t need my ID?”
“No, Mr. Abandonato, th-this-this will be fine.” With trembling fingers she handed over the receipt and the bag. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Nixon flashed a smile. “No, I think we’ve had enough. Thank you for your… help.”
Good God, the woman was going to pass out. She nodded and pinched the bridge of her nose as we turned around and walked out.
“What the hell, Nixon? You like the godfather or something?” I laughed nervously. He joined in but his laugh was hollow.
“So, frozen yogurt?”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Because I’m hungry?”
I sighed. “Fine, but this isn’t a date and this isn’t babysitting detail. You know I can take care of myself, right? You can just take me back to the dorms. I’ve got a paper to write anyways and…” My voice trailed off the minute his hand touched mine. Confused, I looked down at our grasped hands. I didn’t even realize we had stepped onto an escalator until we hit the top floor. He didn’t release my hand. I was torn between wanting him to release it and wanting to smack him upside the head. He couldn’t just toy with my emotions like that. Make me feel important for no reason other than his own entertainment. Growing angrier by the second, I tried to pry my hand free, but his grip tightened.
“It isn’t safe, Trace,” he said in hushed tones. “Just trust me, okay?”
“Then why are we getting frozen yogurt?”
At that he smiled, but still refused to answer. I called false to his whole I’m hungry statement. Right, he’s hungry. He wasn’t the one going on a no-cow diet for the past week.
The food court was decent. Not many people were scattered around either, which I was thankful for. Our security detail basically circled us as we went into the small frozen yogurt shop and grabbed our cups.