My mom gave me the worst haircuts when I was younger. Once, she actually put a bowl on my head and cut around it. Sadly, that was probably the best haircut I ever got—at least it was even on the ends.
The only good thing was that we could never afford the school pictures and she rarely took photos herself, so there’s not much documentation of the disaster that was my sandy brown hair. Once I got older, I watched YouTube videos on my friend Tuck’s phone and figured out how to cut it myself. It looked pretty good, honestly—way better than when Mom was doing it, even if I did use kids’ safety scissors more often than not.
So when Seren took me to Great Clips the first time, I was actually a little overwhelmed. You could hear the scissors expertly snicking over and over when you walked through the door. Those ladies could cut most anything into submission. When I walked out the door the first time, I was pretty proud of my haircut.
After I graduated from college, my friend Harry told me I had to get a ‘good haircut’ as a professional. He recommended a barber—a guy who charged forty dollars for a haircut. I had finally made it, and although I could afford it, I certainly felt that I was paying more than enough for the work.
That’s why it takes me off guard when both my grandmother and Elizabeth say that my hair looks bad. But when Elizabeth pulls up in front of a huge brick building and drags me up to the third floor, I’m really nervous. It doesn’t help that the receptionist desk looks like it cost more than my car, and that the wall behind it is covered with living ivy. I can’t help wondering how long that took to grow. You’d think the place would look dated with that much plant life established, but everything looks sparklingly new, including the water wall on the far right side, and the enormous bay windows that overlook the distant New York Cityscape on the left.
The overhead on this place must be astronomical, and that’s not very reassuring. What kind of hair place looks nicer than a posh country club spa?
“They don’t even have prices posted,” I hiss. “How much is this going to cost?”
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head slowly.
“What?”
She closes her eyes and mouths the word, “Later.”
Why we can’t talk, in a place of business, about the price of a service they’re providing, I do not comprehend, but that seems to be the gist of what she’s saying.
“Hello.” The most flamboyant man I have ever seen in my life prances around the corner of the receptionist desk. I mean, I wish I could say he was walking or strolling or ambling, but the man is not doing any of those things. His hands are floating akimbo, his feet coming up higher and with way too much spring for a normal step, and his lips are pursed while simultaneously smiling. He’s saucily prancing—nothing else accurately describes him.
I have no idea how to react right now, so I just say, “Hi.”
“You must be Emerson Richmond, heir apparent.”
I glare at Elizabeth.
“How do you think I got you in here with one day’s notice?” she whispers. “I’m not a magician.”
“You were right.” The man nods knowingly at Elizabeth. “He is a diamond in the rough.”
“What about me is rough?”
They both laugh, like I made a hilarious joke.
“Don’t worry. When I’m through, you will—”
I throw both hands out, one with my palm facing Elizabeth and one toward the guy. “Wait. Through with what, exactly?”
His high, bubbly giggle is more than I was prepared for, and I really hope I’m not making a strange face. “Let’s move back a step, shall we?” The man makes a look I’ve seen before—when women are trying to look both cute and coy in profile photos. I hate it on them. On this guy, it’s actually pretty funny. “I’m Jian. I perform miracles, by the grace of God, and I’m about to perform one today.” He frames up my face with his hands. “We’ll transform those caterpillars of yours into eyebrows, we’ll discover something lovely under that utter mop of hair, and we’ll put a peel and a mask on your face that will even out all that blotchy, patchy skin. When I’m done with you, you’ll walk into rooms and people will stare.”
They certainly stare at him, but I’m pretty sure I’m not interested in his brand of help. “This might be more than—”
Elizabeth shakes her head and points. “No. Go.”
It turns out that I’m more afraid of her than I am of being transformed into a beauty pageant contestant, so I march. And two hours later, when I look in the mirror, I have to admit. Jian knows his stuff. I don’t look like him.
I look like me.
But a movie star version.
It’s startling, honestly.
I was worried he’d pluck me into having girly eyebrows. He didn’t. He just cleaned them up so they aren’t grandpa-bushy. He took out a lot of nose-hairs too, and I might have screamed once. Or twice. And the haircut—I thought my mom’s haircut at Great Clips was a transformation, but this is so far beyond that—I’m not even sure how to compare them.
I look like a model.
“I told you he looks like Chad Michael Murray.”
“Girl. You have the sight.” He high fives her, and I hate it, but I’m actually feeling a little left out. Jian isn’t what I’m used to, but he’s pretty funny.
And he really does work miracles.
If he also rocks multi-colored highlights, platform shoes, and an orange and brown plaid suit, well. We can’t all be the same, can we? I may not be floating on my way out, but I’m in a pretty good mood.
Right up until we pay.
“I’m sorry, but did you say it’s fourteen hundred dollars?” I blink. “Are you sure you don’t mean it’s fourteen dollars?”
The receptionist laughs. “You’re cute.”
My hand’s actually shaking as I hand the black credit card that grandmother gave me to her. She has to tug to free it from the pressure of my fingertips.
“He’s hilarious, isn’t he?” Elizabeth pretends it’s a joke, but then she whips her head around and glares. “It’s not even your money.”
I pop my elbow on the counter and turn to face Elizabeth, blocking my face a bit with my arm. “You don’t think she’ll get angry that I spent so much on a haircut?”
Elizabeth’s brow furrows. “Oh, Emerson.”
“Is that a no? Or a yes?”
“You’re cuter than a puppy, and I’m exceedingly qualified to say that.”
That irritates me, and the more I think about it, the more upset I become. We’re in the elevator on the way down, soothing music playing, and I’m fuming. Right as it stops, I turn on her. “You know, you guys all think I’m a country bumpkin or something for being appalled at spending fourteen hundred dollars on a men’s haircut, but that’s barely less than my tuition was for an entire semester. The kind of money you people throw around in a single day could completely transform a lot of people’s lives.”
She looks up at me impassively. “I know that, Emerson, but in order to fit in with people like me, you’ll have to learn to meet or exceed their expectations. I know this felt like a waste of money to you, but trust me. I don’t waste it lightly.”
For some reason, she actually seems to mean it.
She’s full of a lot of confusing incongruities. She went to Duke. She has rich parents who let her use their building for her charity. She knows the people and wears the right clothes and presumably gets pricey haircuts. But she also offers to make deals with me to raise money for her animal shelter. Why not just dip into her trust fund a little? Or beg her daddy for more help?
I think about the conversation she was having with her mother. They didn’t seem very supportive of her chosen passion. They told her to grow up, in fact, and it almost sounded like they were saying she needed to marry someone rich if she wanted to keep doing good things like saving animals. Maybe she’s right.
Maybe I need to spend a little more time watching and learning and a little bit less time judging.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
I’m not at all surprised when we walk through the front doors of Saks Fifth Avenue as our next stop. The main differences between this shopping trip and the time the lady brought clothing to me is the sheer volume of options and the fact that Elizabeth asks my opinion.
The first time she does, it surprises me. “Do you care what I think?”
She blinks. “Of course I do. If you hate it, when would you ever wear it?”
Huh. I tell her, “I hate it.”
She chats with one of the clerks. “More understated than this, please.”
Two hours later, I hand the clerk Grandmother’s credit card. I can’t bring myself to look at the total amount, but Elizabeth seems so sure that she won’t mind. It galvanizes me.
“You’ll deliver this to the Richmond residence.” It’s not a question, I realize.
The woman ringing us up just nods.
I think we’re done, but apparently not. “That’s not nearly enough,” she says. “Next we need shoes and suits from Bergdorf Goodman.”
“But why—”
“Their suits are about the same, but they have the best tailors, and. . .” She lowers her voice as if this is a shameful secret. “They’re actually doing a once a year sale on shoes.”
“Heaven forbid anyone hear that we’re shopping a sale,” I say.
She laughs. “It’s not something people brag about in your grandmother’s circles. Trust me.”
“Don’t you mean your circles?”
“Sure.”
By the time we’re finally finished, I feel like I could eat an entire cow. Well, if I ate animals, anyway. “Can we get food? Please?”
Elizabeth pats my arm. “You’ve been a moderately good boy. I suppose that’s fine.”
“I’m picking the place.” I stare at her, daring her to argue with me.
“Sure,” she says. “You pick.”
But when we reach my pick, she stops and stares. “Lefteris Gyro? Really? A Greek sandwich stand?”
“Their falafels are amazing.”
“But they spelled things all wrong.” She’s looking at the menu like my grandmother looks at me—preparing herself for disappointment.
“Trust me.” I grab her wrist and drag her to the counter to order. “I’ll have a falafel with stuffed grape leaves on the side, and an order of hummus and chips.” I glance at her. “And she wants. . .”
“I’ll have the grilled octopus and a philly cheesesteak.”
“Did you order the octopus because it’s the most expensive thing on the menu?” I hand the guy my card.
“Of course.” She laughs. “But also, I’m guessing you’ve never had it, and you need to start getting used to eating weird things. Rich people love weird stuff, so even if you hate it, learning to choke it down is a skill.”
“Choke it down?” The man handing me my credit card looks like he’s going to spit in my falafel.
“Did it escape your notice that I won’t eat meat? Seafood’s included.”
She slaps her forehead. “Well. Huh.”
“Is it not allowed to be vegetarian?”
“I mean, it is, but very few rich people have that kind of resolve.”
“You don’t have many vegetarian friends?”
“Including you, I have one.” She winks.
“That’s not impressive.”
“And rich people don’t care what you think,” she says. “That’s what? Your fourth lesson today? I hope you’re keeping up.”
I fold my arms. “Well, some of these lessons, I plan to ignore.”
She smiles. “Nice job. If I do this right, you’ll stay you, but you’ll be able to blend in when necessary.”
“Kindness is the one thing both my moms share.”
“Both your moms?” She looks genuinely curious.
I inhale. “My mom died when I was eleven. I spent more than a year in group homes before I met Seren, but when I did, my entire life changed.”
“Kind of like the day of the funeral, huh?”
I shrug. “Not really. I mean, I knew I had a dad, and I knew he wasn’t a great one, and all that’s still true.”
“Yeah, but Richmond Steel’s worth a lot. I think the family has billions.”
“I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want it, but even if Grandmother writes me into her will like she’s offering, it won’t really change my life substantially.” As I say the words, I realize she’s right. “If I hadn’t met her, I’d have found a new job, and I’d have worked hard like Mom taught me, and I’d have won Lisa back all the same.”
“Which mom works hard?”
I sigh. “I feel a little disloyal saying this. My biological mom wasn’t lazy or anything, but she would blow off work any chance she got. She didn’t love it. She didn’t appreciate it. And I think she felt cheated—like she had to work so hard because life had been unfair to her.”
“It sounds like life had been unfair to her.”
“If you’d ever met Seren, you’d know that was true for her as well, but she never acted like that. She still never does. She’s the kind of person who just stands up after a disaster, cleans up the mess even when it’s not her fault, and keeps on going. She’s quiet about it, but she’s probably the hardest worker I know.”
“She sounds. . .delightful.”
I can’t tell whether she means it, but I decide not to pick a fight. “She is, and so is my dad.”
“Your real dad?”
I chuckle. “Yes. As far as I’m concerned, Dave and Seren are my real parents. I mean, sometimes I’ll say they aren’t, but I don’t mean it. It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like it. But are you sad about your dad? You just found out he died.”
“I never met Alistair, and I’ll probably never really think of him as my dad. I don’t care that he died.”
“I’d be careful saying that around your grandmother,” she says. “I imagine that would upset her.”
She’s probably right.
“Losing her son was hard, I’m sure, and she lost her husband a few years ago, too. She may be kind of difficult to deal with, but she’s probably hurting, just like you.”
“I’m not really hurting,” I say. “I actually think my life’s pretty great.”
“Sure.” She nods. “You just lost your job, your girlfriend, and your dad in the same week. Sounds like a walk in the park.”
Our food comes before I can say much, but once the lady leaves, I feel like I should explain. “The girlfriend and job thing are temporary,” I say. “I was a little upset, but I knew I would fix it. It’s like when your light goes out on your car. It’s a hassle to drive to the car parts place and buy a new headlight, and it’s annoying to need to get out the tools to replace it, but you know it’ll be fine.”
“Sounds like your breakup really wrecked you.”
“You’re kidding, but it would have—if I thought it was real.”
“So you talk to Lisa, still?”
“I’m giving her space,” I say. “But trust me. She and I will be back together soon.”
“I admire your upbeat spirit.”
“And like I said about my dad, when I was a kid, it upset me that I didn’t have a dad. I hated that Mom never talked about him, and later I hated that he didn’t take care of her and me, but I have a dad now, and he’s amazing. I didn’t meet Alistair, but I feel confident in saying that Dave was at least as good as he would have been.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess.”
“Emerson?” A voice I’d know anywhere—although it’s a bit shrill right now—calls my name.
When I twist around in my seat, there she is. Three tables over, Lisa’s sitting down with a co-worker, Celeste.
“Let me guess,” Elizabeth says.
“What?” I turn back, still a little distracted. For all my big talk, I’m actually really nervous right now. I haven’t seen Lisa once since she dumped me.
“That’s her, no?” Elizabeth asks.
I swallow, but before I’ve said a word, Lisa’s standing by our table. “Emerson.” Her eyes dart toward Elizabeth. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re eating,” Elizabeth says. “I assume that’s what you’re planning on doing here too. It is a restaurant.”
When did Elizabeth get so catty? I’m staring at her when Lisa grabs my shoulder.
“Are you on a date?”
“No,” I say at the same time Elizabeth says, “Yes.”
Lisa’s half smile shows me that she’s confused, but pleased.
“I guess you’re right. Is it really a date, when you’re just eating lunch with your boyfriend after a day of shopping?” Elizabeth shrugs. “I guess maybe not. I enjoy it, but for you, shopping probably feels like work.”
“What?” Lisa’s glaring at Elizabeth now.
“I pretty much wore him out, but you know how it goes. When you find a new one, you make him throw out everything the last girl picked out. I like my guy to look just right.” Elizabeth’s half-shrug, half-smug-smile combo is practically lethal.
Lisa’s nostrils flare and her hand tightens on my shoulder. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Honey, we’re in a bit of a hurry. We have that thing at your grandmother’s later. Remember?” Elizabeth’s eyes shift to my falafel pointedly.
“Oh.” Lisa releases me. “Maybe I’ll call you tonight, then?”
“Are you a friend from work?” Elizabeth asks. “Because if so, maybe don’t bother. He’s not looking for a job anymore.”
“I heard you got a new job,” Lisa says, “but I also heard a rumor today, and they may be firing—”
“Trust me,” Elizabeth says. “No matter who gets fired, he won’t be going back to that horrible place.”
I kick her under the table.
Elizabeth looks like a glass-topped lake. Utterly smooth and delightful.
Did I miss and hit the table leg?
“I’ll call you.” I realize that Lisa has only spoken to me, while Elizabeth has addressed her repeatedly. Elizabeth may sound snippy, but Lisa’s been the rude one, honestly.
“Why would you call?” I ask. “As my girlfriend said, I found a new job, and I’m doing great. It doesn’t really matter who was fired.” That feels really good to say, even if it’s not strictly true.
I don’t have a new job—not even a trial one. You can’t audition for being a grandson, but that’s all I’m doing. An audition that comes with a job if all goes well.
“She’s really your girlfriend?” Lisa asks.
“I really am.” Elizabeth doesn’t even look upset.
Even though Lisa continues to ignore her. “But we just broke up.”
“Wait.” Elizabeth stands up. “This is Lisa?” She half-laughs. “But I thought you said she was ‘really beautiful.’” Her air quotes are probably too much.
When Lisa balls up her hand at her side, I actually worry that she’s going to punch Elizabeth. She doesn’t, luckily, but it looks like a near miss. “I’ll call you later.”
“If he doesn’t answer, don’t get upset.” Elizabeth widens her eyes. “Emerson and I usually stay pretty busy.”
Oh my word. She’s insinuating. . .
But when Lisa gets back to the table, she grabs her purse and storms off.
“Wait,” Celeste says. “Our food.” She waves at me a little sheepishly, and then darts off after her friend.
“That went really well.” Elizabeth sits down and leans back in her chair with a grin. “Better than I thought it could, actually.”
I lean toward her. “Are you kidding right now?”
She smiles. “You were right. You are getting back together.”
“How on earth did you get that from what just happened?”
“No woman on earth would catfight in a restaurant over a man she doesn’t care about.” She shrugs. “When she calls later, do not answer. I mean it. You’ll undo everything we did today with your pathetic, puppy-dog replies. Girls say they want the sweet guy, but they’re lying.”
Once we get back to the house, I get stuck spending the afternoon talking to Grandmother’s CEO and CFO, learning the basics about what main channels of production Richmond Steel focuses on, and what their plans are for the next year. But when I finally finish the back-to-back meetings, I check my phone.
Lisa called.
Twice.
Bafflingly, it seems like Elizabeth was right.