I nearly died when she gave it to me, as I'd never owned anything so expensive before. Let alone vintage Chanel. For the longest time, I refused to use it, scared I would somehow lose it or someone would steal it … or worse, I'd get wine or lipstick on it. Instead, I let it collect dust in my closet. I only started using it after Carla scolded me and said to stop being so worried about it. In her mind, it was just a purse, and what was the point of having it if I was never going to use it?
I'm about to walk off when my phone dings. Quick to see who it is, I whip it out. It's Mom, I think anxiously. She finally responded to my text. Instead, I'm greeted by a message from my roommate Callie.
Calgurl182: Gonna be studying hard for my exams. Please be quiet when you come in from work. Thx
I grin at the message. When I need to get a paper done, I study hard, but Callie takes studying to a whole new level. And with exams coming up, I know Callie's level of anxiety must be through the roof. I can totally relate to her not wanting to be disturbed.
After making a mental note to be quiet as a mouse when I enter our tiny apartment near campus, I flip over to my last text with my mom and my grin slowly fades.
Hey Mom, I know I told you about landing my dream job recently, but things are really tough right now financially. I've had to pay for so many things, a used car, clothing, rent, tuition … all these things have left me a little strapped and I'm not sure how I'm going to afford to pay for my next semester. I hate to ask, but can you help me out? I'll pay you back as soon as I get the chance.
Love you,
Dah
Staring at the blank space where her response should be, I feel dejected. I wasn't expecting much from her, but she could have at least responded and let me know that she cared, even if she can't help me out financially. I've had to pay for college myself. Which was fine when I had a job, but this internship doesn't pay anything, and I couldn't keep my retail job and also work here. I'm fucked. I was hoping my mother would be able to help me out. But this is the third text I've sent about money, and she hasn't responded to any of them. She sure as hell reminded me that she was going on vacation with her new boyfriend though.
It makes me feel like I'm low on her priorities. But maybe she just can't handle dealing with added stress right now.
She's been distant lately, and I know even before she started dating this current boyfriend she was having a really rough time. The last few years while I've been at school, my mother has grown apart from me. I can't help but wonder if it's because I remind her too much of my father. I hope not, because it'll only make me feel worse, maybe make me resent my father more, if that's even possible.
Just thinking about him sends a shiver of apprehension down my spine. I don't know if I'll ever forgive him for ripping our family apart. For letting what happened to me, happen. Even now, I still can't fathom it. My father was supposed to be my protector, my guardian. He let him hurt me. That fact shakes me to my very core, and occasionally, I suffer nightmares over it.
It's been better lately though. I swallow thickly and grab my coat.
Stop bringing this up. I've had a relatively good day, and I don't need to screw it up by living in the past. I'm never going to get over it if I keep wishing things had turned out differently. What I need to do is quit worrying and figure out a way to pay for my tuition next semester. I square my shoulders and nod my head at the thought, feeling my confidence come back. I'm going to make this work and have a life I'm proud of.
Just thinking about my money woes stresses me out. I can't help but think I'm going to be worn thin by having to work in order to pay the bills on top of doing this internship. That's not even factoring in the time I'll need to study for school.
I need to figure something out by next month. After finals, there's the holiday break and I can do something then. I'll find a way to keep this internship and pay for my classes.
Steeling my shoulders with resolve, I walk out of the office as I think to myself, One way or another, I'm going to find a way to make some money on the side. Even if it kills me.
Chapter 3
Lucian
My sister loves this part of the city, the hustle and bustle of Main Street with the crowds always walking by. I don't understand it. We could go anywhere, but she always asks to come to this particular cafe.
I take off my jacket and sit at a bistro table hidden in the shade, back in the corner. With my back to the stonewalled building, I can at least face the crowd.
We're still outside so she'll be happy, the crisp fall air rustling the newspaper in my hand. I place my forearm on the edge of the page and look out past the crowd while I watch the cars pass.
I grew up in the city. Only a few blocks from here actually. It doesn't make me like the city any more though. I huff a humorless laugh. Maybe that's why I don't care for this environment.
Too many reminders.
"Can I get you anything?" a waitress asks. Her sweet smile stays in place as she waits patiently with her hands clasped in front of her.
"Coffee black, with one sugar," I reply, and as I order I hear my sister's squeal and the loud clicks of her heels on the pavement.
She looks like she belongs here. Happy and dressed in the latest fashion, she fits right in with the people you'd expect to see in this part of town. She runs up to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, making the waitress take a step back. She's the only person I let touch me. I just don't fucking like to be touched. But Anna can. She never hesitates to do what she feels like doing. I admire her for that.
She pulls back and takes me in; her cherry red lips make her brilliant smile look even whiter.
"Lucian," she says sweetly before turning to her left and finally taking notice of the waitress.
"Oh! Sorry!" she apologizes, her shoulders scrunching as she backs up and practically falls into her seat.
"No problem," the waitress says and laughs it off. "Can I get you anything else, sir?"
My eyes lift to the waitress. Ever since I got that invitation, it's been more and more apparent how many people call me sir.
I shake my head and give her a tight smile. She's a petite blonde, with a cute button nose and angelic face, but she's not my type. Not that it was on the table … but I'm sure it could be, if I wanted.
The waitress turns to Anna and before she can even ask, Anna orders while taking off her cream leather jacket, "Can I have a salted caramel latte with cream and four Splenda and an extra shot of espresso?"
She does not need that extra shot, but I keep my lips closed. I've learned not to give my sister advice, since she's going to do what she wants to do anyway. And me keeping my mouth shut makes her happy.
She sighs comfortably as the waitress leaves with a nod.
"How are you?" I ask her easily. She smiles brightly, pushing her hair over her shoulders and leaning forward.
"Everything is going so well." Her eyes soften as she says, "Thank you for paying my tuition." Her voice is subdued, but sweet. "It really means so much to me, Lucian. I know-"
I stop her. I know she's grateful, but she doesn't have to keep telling me. "Of course, I'm glad you're enjoying your classes."
I was honestly worried. My sister is naive, and I wasn't sure she'd enjoy college at all. She's never been much of a book person, or the studying type. But if she wants to go, I'm happy to help her so long as she takes it seriously.
She leans back, silencing her thanks and looks at the paper. "Are you in it today?" she asks. Her eyes are wide with curiosity.
I shake my head as I say, "No."
"Bummer," she says as she slumps back into her seat and I chuckle at her expression. I'm never happy to be in the paper. I didn't start this business to be a public figure.
And up until the last few years, whenever I was in the paper, it wasn't good public relations. They say any publicity is good publicity, but they're dead fucking wrong.
The tabloids were not a fan of my playboy lifestyle. And neither were the stockholders. It didn't take long for me to change the business over to a privately owned company, but still, my company suffered because of my childish antics. I had to tone it down. No more fucking every pretty little thing who begged for my cock. I thought getting married would solve that problem--fuck, I thought I was in love.
I was a fucking fool, and I have the alimony checks to prove it.
If my name is never mentioned in the papers again, I'll die a happy man.
I started this company when I was Anna's age, back when I was only nineteen years old. It's odd to think that, considering how I still see my sister as young.
That was the year I split from my family. Realistically, I'd already been on bad terms with my brother. He's a jealous prick, and I have no intention of ever allowing him to be in my life again. Even back then, things were tense between us at best. At the time, I wasn't even speaking to him. But at least I still had my parents. Or at least I thought I did. Before I knew what it was like to be stabbed in the back.