“Can you stop being an ass, just for one moment?”
“Probably not,” he said neutrally. “But I’ll give it a shot.”
After he realized I wasn’t going to answer him, he asked, “What’s on today’s agenda, Princess?”
I scrambled upright, my back pressed against the headboard. “I guess I’m going to try my best to make your life a living hell and embarrass my family. You know, the usual stuff.”
He reached for the blanket, tapping my knee twice. As soon as his hand met with my leg, a shot of thrill ran through me, injecting me with energy and life. It was the first time he’d touched me.Willingly, anyway. Gently. Not to remove me out of a place or to drag me into my room. It seemed important, and not accidental, and maybe I was crazy, but also a little intimate. I had a feeling he wanted to make me feel better and didn’t know how. And Ransomneverwanted to make anyone feel better.
“Shoot for the stars, Brat.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You mean, I can actually do whatever I want today?”
“Absolutely not.” His bored expression was impenetrable. “But I’m giving you a head start. For the next ten hours, you’re not on a budget. You’re allowed to spend your parents’ money however you like. I’ll deal with them. After that, you’re all booked for volunteer work.”
“Soup kitchen?” I asked groggily. It was celebrities’ go-to thing, so I figured this was where they wanted me to go.
He shook his head. “Reservoir cleaning and recycling.”
How sad is it, I thought,that my bodyguard knows me better than my parents do.
At first, I thought I’d hit Highland Park Village and go ham at Dior, Chanel, and Valentino. Normally, I only shopped in secondhand stores for environmental purposes, but for pissing-off-my-parents purposes, I figured it was time to renew my designer collection and donate older items to my favorite charities and thrift shops too.
As soon as Ransom and I reached the opulent shopping center, all royal arches and overflowing flower baskets, I realized no part of me wanted to shop.
That, in fact, shopping was a very depressing way to pass the time. Drawing joy from something materialistic never lasted for more than a couple hours. And…it needed to be said, most of the designer stuff washorrendous.
But it was much more than the act of shopping.
I was tired of the chase.
Tired of trying to fit in.
Tired oftrying.
Designer clothes represented something I wanted to be a part of—glitz and glamour and sophistication. But deep down—or maybe not eventhatdeep—I wasn’t a fan of consumerism. I mean, these companies wanted us to stock up on new, expensive clothes each season, even though last season’s clothes were perfectly wearable and still good to use. Overproduction resulted in waste and ecological damage. Every time I purchased a fashion item I didn’t need, I put another nail into this planet’s coffin.
“I don’t want this,” I heard myself say. I was rooted to the ground, staring back at an array of designer stores and upscale restaurants. “I don’t want any of this anymore. I have enough clothes. Nice ones, too.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, but I had a feeling he was relishing every word. More than that—I had a feeling he’d expected this to happen. That he somehow knew shopping wouldn’t make me feel better.
“I want to go,” I said.
“Where to?”
Good question. I wanted to get another tattoo. But I was still sore from yesterday, and also, I didn’t have anything else I wanted engraved on my skin. My tattoos all had meaning. Maybe I could sketch something real quick? I could…but I’d run out of hotel paper. And I guessed using a pencil, rather than the unreliable hotel pen, was a better idea. But the thought of holding a pencil and paper made me feel like a poser. Some pleasures were reserved for literate people only, and this was one of them.
A flashback of a sneering Hera assaulted my memory.
“What do you need my pens for, Hallie? It’s not like you’re gonna write something. Give them back. I’m studying for a test. And don’t ever steal from me again!”
Still…
Ransom had no idea about my…issues. I could draw as much as I wanted, and he wouldn’t judge me.
“Can we go to…Hobby Lobby?” I turned to him. I’d never been before, but it always looked like such a wholesome store. Nothing bad ever happened in a Hobby Lobby, I bet.
His face remained unreadable, but I could tell he hadn’t expected it. “Sharp turn of events.”