Betting on Bailey

“Thank you for the support, asshole,” I reply, but there’s no energy in my words. Sebastian is right. I’ve fucked up, not once, but twice.

* * *

“I can explain,” I say as I open the door.

She sweeps in without saying a word. She’s dressed in her usual black. The only jewelry she’s wearing are silver hoop earrings and a chunky bracelet. Her hair’s loose and soft over her shoulders. She smells like flowers and for an instant, all I can see is her beautiful, naked body lying on my pool table, sweet and open. The only sounds I can hear are her breathy moans.

Then I see the ire in her violet eyes, and I grimace. Yeah, as Sebastian predicted, she’s furious.

She stalks in, her back held ramrod straight. I lead her toward the kitchen, where Sebastian waits. It might be cowardly of me, but I need support here and I’m counting on my best friend for help. Though, in fairness, he’s had to do some heavy lifting in the last two days.

“I really want to get published in the Smithsonian Institute Press, Daniel,” she snaps. “Can you buy me a spot?”

Sebastian snickers and she shoots him a look that’s filled with hatred. “I’m not thrilled with you either,” she bites out.

“What’d I do?” he protests, looking confused.

She’s not listening. No, our redhead is on a rant. “What is wrong with you guys? You,” she points to me, “who the fuck bets fifty grand on a pool game? Oh wait, I know the answer. The kind of guy who has so much money that he’ll spend a hundred and fifty million dollars on some kind of half-assed apology.” Her coat flies across the room. “I just spent,” she hisses, “eleven months with a guy who measured my worth by how much money I made. And you try to buy my forgiveness with an endowment to the university?” Her voice trembles with rage. “Do you know how angry that makes me?”

I open my mouth to cut in and tell her that I did not give the university the money as a gesture of apology, but she’s whirled to face Sebastian. “And you.” She points an accusing finger in his direction. “You thought my friend’s restaurant wouldn’t last six months? What kind of asshole would say that and crush her dreams? Now that you have two Michelin stars, do you think you can wander around the city and insult struggling chefs? You don’t know anything about Piper’s circumstances. How dare you.”

“What are you talking about?” Sebastian blinks. “Is that Hell’s Kitchen dive run by a friend of yours?”

“Yes.” Her voice makes ice look balmy in comparison. “My roommate Piper.”

“Ah.” Sebastian digests that with an embarrassed look on his face. “Shit. I didn’t know that.”

Bailey isn’t mollified. She transfers her glare to me. “A hundred and fifty million dollars?”

Her voice catches just a little, and I can tell she’s really upset. “Okay.” I hold up my hands. “Stop. Sit. Listen to me, please.”

She settles down on a chair, a guarded look on her face. I open a bottle of vodka and pour the three of us a drink. “I shouldn’t have said what I said the other day,” I say quietly. “I’m very sorry. It was stupid and uncalled for, and it was a dick thing to do.”

“You gave my school a hundred and fifty million dollars because you were sorry? Daniel, in the real world, people send flowers to apologize.”

“I did,” I run my hand through my hair in frustration. “Well, not flowers. It took a while to arrange, but the package should have been delivered today.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then she shuts up. “Wait a second,” she says slowly. “Piper did say something about FedEx. You sent me something?”

“I did.”

“And the hundred and fifty million? Did that have anything to do with me?”

I have to be honest with her. “Yes.” I put my hand up before she starts yelling at me again. “Please let me finish. I didn’t spend any time thinking about the funding gap in liberal arts until I met you. Then I read the blog you kept while you were in Siberia, and I found it fascinating.” I kneel in front of her and take her hands in mine. “The work you do is important. It deserves to be funded.” I shrug. “The money for the endowment was already earmarked. I just suggested to my mother that we give it to the liberal arts school instead of the business school.”