Page 35 of Breaking the Ice
When the waitress comes, Zach and I both order the shrimp cocktail. He adds a Caesar salad for us to split and a basket of garlic bread.
After she leaves, he says, “I don’t want you to do anything with Yolanda that makes you uncomfortable. I just want to know what she’s plotting.”
Nodding my head, I tell him, “That won’t be a problem, so long as she tells me. So far, all I know is that she wants me to keep an eye on you and let her know what you’re doing.”
“Tell her anything and everything. I have no secrets.”
“Zach,” I start to say before thinking better of it.
“What?”
“Why don’t you just hear her out? Then maybe this whole thing would go away.”
He takes a sip of water before answering, “I’m not going to give in to her.” At my confused expression, he adds, “Once you let someone take advantage of you, they’ll just keep doing it. The only way to come out of this intact is to continue to maintain my innocence and not engage with her. People will eventually find someone else to talk about.”
“I’d hate to be in your position.”
“It’s not always easy,” he says. “But there’s a price to pay for success and this is one of the things I have to deal with.”
“What other things do you have to put up with?”
A mischievous smile crosses his face. “Some people think I’m spoiled and entitled, and don’t know how to do basic things like clean windows …”
“I’m sorry about that,” I tell him sincerely. “I’m just not used to being around people like you.”
Zach shakes his head. “I’m not a trust fund baby, Ellie. I already told you that I grew up with nothing. I know what it’s like to struggle.”
“I know that now,” I tell him. “And I’m sorry I ever thought otherwise.”
“Good. Because if we’re going to be friends, you have to be able to trust me.”
Tipping my head to the side, I ask, “Is that what we’re going to be—friends?”
“I’d like that.”
“I would, too.” Although there’s a part of me that would like something more. I wonder what kind of women Zach dates. I’m guessing they’re more like Yolanda than me. She’s the kind of person that probably spends three hundred dollars on moisturizer and a cool grand on a pair of heels. I wouldn’t do that even if I had all the money in the world. At least not if there were people who needed help.
Once our meal is served, Zach says, “Your mom says you’re single. Tell me about that.”
I nearly choke on a shrimp. “What’s to tell?”
He looks at me with laser-like intensity. “Why aren’t you dating anyone?”
“Geez, Zach, I don’t know. It might have something to do with the fact that I live in a town with very few single men.”
“What about the apps? I’m sure there are single guys in nearby areas.”
“I’m not a swiper,” I tell him prudishly. “Most of those men are just looking for hookups and that’s not my thing.”
“Good for you,” he says. “It’s not mine either.”
Remembering what Yolanda told me, I say, “You just let your PR people pimp for you, huh?”
He looks surprised. “Excuse me?”
“Yolanda said that people in your position use PR people like dating apps. She said all you have to do is tell them what you want, and they’ll set it up.”
“That might be what she does,” he says. “The only reason I contacted my press agent about Yolanda was to get her to do an interview with me.”