I sighed.
“Yeah, a little. Not the clothes. The—ah, the art. Selling the art. It’s my fault, really. I don’t want to seem ungrateful—I am grateful! I’m very grateful for having, you know…”
“A sexy billionaire to pay your rent?”
“A handsome CEO to massage your feet?”
“No!” I cried. “I mean yes, he gives a great foot rub. But I feel bad that he’s basically paying for everything, paying for me to do nothing.”
“Aren’t you making art?” Steph asked. “You’re always in the studio when I call.”
“Yeah, you did how many paintings last month?” Rachel asked, stabbing a carrot into the hummus. “Like, three dozen or something?”
“More than that,” I admitted.
“That’s a heck of a lot of work!”
“It’s not…” I struggled for the words. “It feels like I’m a charity case.”
“You’re not, babe,” Steph said, patting my hand on the table. “You’re just a very lucky girl.”
“Who happens to have a sexy billionaire giving her foot massages.”
“Alright, I get it,” I said. “ I just wish I could be the one selling my art, instead of the one holding myself back.”
“Just fake it until you make it,” Steph said. “Don’t let him know about the next person who comes along wanting your art. Then when you talk to him, you can show him that you know what you’re talking about.”
Rachel nodded as she crunched a bite of the carrot.
“Sometimes that’s the easiest thing to do—take charge of the situation yourself. You can do it,” she said.
“I know. That’s what you did with your bakery, right, Steph?”
Steph burst out with a peal of laughter. He blond ponytail shook behind her.
“Honey, that business is held together with fondant and a prayer. Never mind. Don’t take my business advice.”
“What about you, Rachel?” I asked.
“What about me?” she asked.
“Don’t you want to move here to become a singer?”
“Sure.”
“So why don’t you? Is NYC too expensive?”
“No, it’s not that.” Rachel looked down at her plate. “It’s my family. The farm is hurting, and my mom hasn’t been able to take care of a lot of things ever since, you know, she got sick.”
Rachel’s mom had been showing more and more signs of Alzheimers. I didn’t know that it had gotten so bad, though.
“It wouldn’t be so bad, but they’re competing against those huge mega-corporations, and they don’t care about anything but driving everyone out of business. They offer lower prices just to kill off the small businesses, and then they buy up all the land and raise prices right back. Lather, rinse, repeat.”
“Gosh,” I said. “That sounds horrible.”
“Your family doesn’t have the same problem?” Rachel asked.
“Well, it’s different with corn,” I said. “The roughest problem is the drought. It’s not cheap to get water in Iowa. Or anywhere, I suppose. California has it worst right now. But the corporations do the same thing with the land, just use it up and go buy more. They don’t do anything sustainably, and they ruin the soil.”
“Ugh,” Rachel said.
“Right? It’s like they don’t care at all about what happens in the future.”
“Exactly. And as much as I want to think about being a singer in a jazz band in NYC,” she continued, “I can’t think about my own future. My family comes first.”
“Maybe that’s what’s wrong with Jake,” Steph said, turning back to me.
“What?”
“I mean, he doesn’t have a family. Not to be brutal about it, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what a couple is supposed to act like, since he didn’t have a mom and dad.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“He doesn’t realize that love is more than just blowjobs in limousines.”
“Steph!”
“Well? I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Love isn’t only blowjobs in limousines,” I said. “But yeah, I guess that could be it.”
Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the mention of blowjobs. As innocent as I had been before Jake got to me, Rachel was even more naïve in the world of sex. I wondered what it would take to bring her to New York to follow her dreams.
“You guys will figure it out, I’m sure,” Rachel said.
“Sure you will,” Steph said. “He’s head over heels about you. Just give it some time.”