Which one of us is actually living?
— Claire Jenkins
Things went well in Miami. The new plan worked and I was thrilled. On my last night in town, I picked up a bottle of bourbon and texted Claire to celebrate.
"Gone on a grocery run lately?"
We hadn't spoken since she stormed out of the house a few months earlier. I was worried she might not reply. Was she still pissed?
She called just as I was getting back to my hotel.
"Claire! Hi!"
"Hey, Shay. I haven't heard from you. I was starting to wonder."
"Yeah, I've been busy."
"Oh?"
"I'm ramping up to bigger things. Right now, I'm in Miami."
"Miami?"
"Yeah. Remember when we were at that sidewalk cafe, in Chicago? When I showed you my valet parking idea?"
"That's the new scam?"
The way she said it made it sound ugly, as if she didn't have dirt on her hands too.
"It's the new thing," I said. "I'm hitting huge Bitcoin events in different cities. In and out like a surgical strike."
"That's big."
"It's the new plan. And it works. So what's new with you?"
"Me? Well... speaking of work... I've got a real job now."
"You what?!? You've gone straight?"
"It's nothing, really. I'm pouring drinks at The Bitter End. I figured I needed to start bringing in some legit income. The Bitter's great because it's dark and it's busy, so it's easy to feel anonymous, not that I need to. I'm renting a place with a backyard now, too. I'm turning part of it into a garden."
"Wow, you really have gone straight."
"I'm playing the long game, Shay. The real long game."
"What's that?"
"Live free or die, remember? There's a reason the first word is live. You're trying to build a fortune. I'm trying to build a life. Which one of us is actually living?"
"Huh."
"So, here's my other new thing. It's gonna sound lame, but, remember Elliott? One of the marks that turned out to be a bagel?"
"Which one was he?"
"The guy with the writers' group at the library."
"Oh, yeah. He was a professor or something."
"Well, I started going to his writers' group. I figured there's no harm in it since he didn't have any Bitcoin to steal. To him, I was just some girl. Obviously, I'll never tell him why I met him. But yeah, I've been doing some creative writing."
"What do you write about?"
"I'm working on a story about an urban outreach and assessment analyst. Y'know... from the phony backstory stuff we used to make up. I'm writing that."
"It doesn't sound very interesting, Claire."
"It's really about somebody who helps get a working girl off the street."
"So, it's about me! Hahahahaa!!!"
"You wish! It's really about making a fresh start, I guess. I don't know. I'm trying to figure out how it ends, and I got a Buddha quote I want to work into it. And some Plato. It's a thing."
"Sounds like it needs work."
"Yeah, but that's half the fun. I write what I know and make up the rest. Oh! I've got another one. You'll like this, Shay!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I wrote a short story about a woman pretending to be something she's not so she can marry a guy for his money."
"Is that your next plan?"
"Hell no. I thought of that for you. Sort of. I thought, 'What if Shay found a whale of a whale, but he had something she didn't know how to steal. How would she get it?' The answer seemed obvious."
"You're saying I'd marry him, so I could divorce him and take half?"
"No. You'd take it all."
"How?"
"It's like what you said about me once. You said I become part of a guy's life so you can get into his home. Why not do both parts yourself? Let's say you found a whale. Get him to make you part of his life. Maybe move in together. Stroke his ego so he'll teach you everything he knows as he brags about how brilliant he is. Let him teach you how to rob him. Take it all and move to a new city with a new name."
"I'm never gonna get a whale that way, Claire."
"You don't know that."
"I do. I'm not built like you. You can have any guy you want. The only guys who even look at me are losers."
"It's not about the body, Shay. It's all in the eyes. You need to look at a guy like you have a connection. That's how you reel him in. Make him feel like you're his. Make him think he matters."
"That's why it wouldn't work. Before I even meet a guy, I already know he doesn't matter. None of 'em do."
"Oof."
"I just call 'em like I see 'em, Claire."
"Speaking of that... Keep checking in, yeah? Especially now that you're traveling so much. What can I say? I worry. It's good to know you're okay."
"I will!"
I couldn't help smiling as I hung up the phone.
When I told Claire I'm not built like her, you probably thought I was talking about her body. I was, sure, but it's more than that. I've got brains. I've got skills and killer instinct. But Claire? She's got heart.
A heart is good but brains are better, and plans are best of all. With a plan comes a purpose. I was still working on a plan for Doug. Dropping by his house to mess with him was fun, but it wasn't enough.
How much is enough?