40. Men Like What?

Chapter 40

Men Like What?

Megan

Two Days Later

“ A re you going to lay up in this bed your entire pregnancy in your pajamas watching…wait, are they speaking Chinese?”

Naomi barges into my bedroom with a tray of snacks, plops down on the edge of the bed, and gives me a goofy grin.

I’ve been holed up in my room for the last two days thinking about my argument with Hunter and deciding how I was going to talk about the reason why with Naomi.

“It’s a Korean drama and stop exaggerating. It’s only been two days.”

“Why the hell would you watch television you have to read? And I’ve never seen you take off work for even one day, so two seems wild and crazy for someone like you.”

“People change,” I say with a heavy exhalation, hoping that Naomi will magically volunteer up information about herself. Clearly, I’m having trouble initiating the conversation.

“What did you bring me?” I ask her, looking at the plate full of small bites.

“Only healthy stuff for the baby. I think this is the phase when her brain is growing. It’s important for you to have brain-boosting food. So here’s some nuts, a berry mix, olives, and a little French bread and olive oil dip. I know you like that good bread now that you’ve been to Paris and all.”

“It looks good.”

“You better eat up because you’re probably going to become nauseous in the next month or so and won’t want to eat anything.”

I accept the plate and place it at my side on the bed.

“Thanks.”

“Cheer up, girl. You and Hunter had a little disagreement. You can’t curl up and die over it. You’re bound to have many more with someone like him.”

My eyes raise up to meet hers.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m just saying–”

“What are you saying? What do you mean by someone like him ?”

She starts to stumble over her words.

“It’s just that I’ve known a lot of men like him.”

“Men like what?”

“Powerful. Domineering. Overwhelming. You know. the type”

“You know powerful and domineering men?”

“Megan–”

“Actually, Naomi, I’ve known you since I moved to LA, and you rarely talk about your family or your past.”

“Neither did you, that’s part of what we had in common.”

“I didn’t talk about mine because they were freaking sociopaths. What’s your excuse?”

Naomi looks silently down at her feet, no doubt thinking of another way to avoid talking to me about the truth about her family. She’s right, though. Neither of us chose to share details about our pasts, which seemed perfectly normal at the time, but now I see that both of us were hiding from each other and possibly from ourselves.

“My family is complicated, Megan.”

“How so?”

She looks me dead in my eyes and inspects them as if she's searching for something.

“Did your boyfriend tell you something about my family?”

I pop an olive in my mouth and savor the salty explosion in my mouth as I chew.

“Yes.”

Her entire body deflates.

I’ve never seen Naomi like this…ever.

“What did he tell you?” She asks in a small voice.

“That you’re from New Orleans and that your family is dangerous.”

“Fuck.”

“Do you actually go home to visit them, Naomi, or are you in danger because–”

“There’s no danger. My family is many things but they love me. No one would ever hurt me.”

Like mine.

“I see, so why did you move across the country?”

“I’m avoiding something which is probably inevitable anyway.”

“What?”

“Marriage.”

“Are you engaged?”

I pat my hand on the bed as an instruction for her to sit down.

“I’m not engaged, I’m promised.”

“Promised? What does that mean?”

“The girls in my family are always promised in marriage to a boy from another prominent family. I was promised to my fiancee when I turned one year old. There was even a ceremony that sealed our fates, and the time is quickly approaching when I have to honor that promise.”

“An arranged marriage? In this day and age? I didn’t realize those still happened. I mean, you can’t actually want to marry someone your parents picked for you.”

“I don’t.”

“Is he some sort of old man or something?”

“No, he’s only three years older than me.”

“Do you know him? Is he an asshole?”

“Does that matter, Megan? I don’t love him. I don’t love anyone. I just want to be a normal twenty-something. I don’t want to get married. I want to become a celebrity makeup artist and stylist. Can you imagine me on tour with Beyonce or Taylor Swift? I would create fierce looks for them.”

“Why don’t you have an accent?”

“Not everyone speaks with a twang back home."

"I'm sorry, I just thought–"

"I get it," she chuckles. "But I attended private schools my whole life. They teach you how to speak like you’re a news anchor there. That way you can blend in anywhere you go, at least in the States.”

“So what will you do? How long can you avoid this marriage thing?”

“My father has given me until my 25th birthday to sow my disrespectful oats, as he put it, but then I have to come home and get married or there will be consequences.”

I think about the many times Naomi and I have eaten Ramen noodles for dinner or how she moved with me to Hunter’s building because she wouldn’t be able to afford a place on her own. Does that even make sense if she comes from a powerful family like this?

“Why don’t you have any money if your family is well off?”

“This isn’t Coming To America . My parents weren’t going to bankroll my escape to Los Angeles like Eddie Murphy’s parents did in that movie. If I was going to disobey them, I’d have to fund it myself. They expected me to fail. They expected me to be back home three years ago.”

“So what are you going to do? Your birthday is in three months.”

She grabs a piece of the French baguette and dips it into the olive oil and basil.

“I don’t know, girl. I’ll be in deep shit if I don’t go home. The women in my family have had arranged marriages for a hundred years. I’d be the first to break tradition.”

“A hundred years?” I repeat in disbelief.

“My family’s wealth began during prohibition. My great-grandfather built an empire on selling illegal liquor.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound so dangerous.”

“Yes, but prohibition ended. So the money he earned during that time was used to fund another business that exists today, and it’s very dangerous. Much like Hunter’s business is.”

“Is that why you don’t like him?”

“I never said that I didn’t like him.”

“It’s pretty obvious you don’t. Hiding your emotions has never been a part of your skillset.”

“That’s real nice, prego . I suppose your baby’s daddy just reminds me of so many guys I grew up with and not in a good way.”

“He’s been nothing but wonderful to me and for me, Naomi. He encourages and supports my art in a way I didn’t know was possible. He actually believes in my talent.”

“I believe in it, too!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Let me ask you this.” Naomi’s voice grows more serious. “Have you ever told him no?”

“Told him no?” It’s my natural inclination to immediately respond with well, of course, I have, but if I actually think about it, I’m not sure that I’ve denied Hunter anything.

“He’s never asked me to do anything I’d have to say no to.”

“Nothing?” she asks incredulously.

“Nothing.”

“I bet he didn’t even ask you anything. I imagine someone like Hunter Middleton just kind of tells you what’s going to happen, and that’s what you do. I’m pretty sure you didn’t jump at the idea of having a full-time security detail following you around.”

“I didn’t like it, but I understood that it was necessary. His enemies could view me as a weakness and try to hurt him through me. He only assigned the security guys to protect me.”

“Are you listening to yourself, girl? His enemies? People hurting him through you? That’s not normal behavior. I ran away from everything I knew back home because of nonsense like that. And now you’re bringing another human into the world who will be totally connected to all of that drama.”

I place both of my palms on my stomach the moment she talks about my baby, as if I’m protecting him or her from her harsh words.

“Hunter won’t let anything happen to our baby.”

“He can’t promise you that.”

“Then what do you propose I do, Naomi? He’s the father of my unborn child. You want me to run away from my life like you have?”

Naomi stands.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you anything. I knew you’d judge me. You’ve changed so much since falling for him.”

“This isn’t judgment. This is me being taken aback that you’ve been my closest friend– no, my only friend for years, and I don’t know anything about you.”

“You know about everything that matters. You are probably the only person on this earth who knows me for the woman I truly am and not the obedient little girl I was brought up to be.”

“Then let me ask you one more thing about your past, and then we can leave it behind us.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Will your family come for you if you don’t go willingly back to New Orleans to get married?”

Naomi shifts from side to side uncomfortably, and dread fills inside my chest once she answers.

“Yes.”