Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

“Yeah, it’s like when life gives you lemons, don’t be an asshole to the service staff. Or something like that.”

“Come on. Don’t quit on me now. I have a deep inner need to make you like me, and I feel like I’m getting close.”

Her face breaks into the most heartrending smile. And all it does is make me want to pay her more compliments.

To the outside observer, it would appear that I’m staring at the guy I showed up here with. But they would be wrong. I’m staring at his dad.

“I never got these.” I never got these. I never got these. I never got these.

I would have chosen him.

told me to never work for free. To never sell myself short or question my value.

He goes to step past me, his focus like a laser down the hallway where Clyde is resting. “So help me, if Clyde made you cry, I’ll⁠—”

All I know is that the first thing that comes to mind is, If I live, I’m coming after you.

“Almost as impressive as the depth of my daddy issues and the uniform kink my upbringing sent me out into the world with.”

“Well, then he needs it.” “What?” He doesn’t look up—just opens the book as he responds with, “Something that makes him happy.” My brows furrow. “Which is what?” Now it’s Clyde’s turn to hit me with a head tilt. “Gwen, stop playing, silly fucker.”

“Gwen, I just want you to know that if I were you, I’d fuck my ex-boyfriend’s dad, and I wouldn’t even feel bad about it because that other guy sounds like a fucking loser.”

The more he talks, the more agitated I become. All I can think about is…how good they’d be together. Not as good as she and I would be.

And me? I do us both a favor: I walk inside and respond to the job offer from the resort in Costa Rica. I tell them I’ll be ready to start on August first.

“Nah, Maya wouldn’t like it here. Her pictures belong there, in our house. We were happy there together, you know. Still one of my favorite places in the world to be.

part of my ongoing effort to make him look at more purple things—and

It’s as though he doesn’t know how to accept a compliment—or doesn’t buy it. I figure if I keep giving them to him, one day he’ll start believing me.

All I do is watch as the most precious person in the world to me walks away. And I don’t even blame her.

“Hi. I’m Beau.