I tried to comprehend his reasoning for interfering in my life. I’d had a rough time in high school and hadn’t really found focus until my senior year. At the time, I’d assumed it would take a miracle to get me into the architecture program of my choice… but now I realized it had nothing to do with my talent and everything to do with Grayson pulling strings behind my back.
Every single defining moment I’d lived through in the last five years had been carefully crafted by Grayson. He’d given me unsolicited recommendations, unsolicited scholarships, unsolicited job interviews and internships. He’d even paid for a percentage of my rent in every apartment I’d lived in without me even realizing it. How? Where the hell had my money gone?
Seeing how much I’d unknowingly depended on Grayson for the last five years felt like someone had just ripped the rug out from beneath me. As I sat there in the dark, the glow of the computer screen illuminating my face, I realized that I hadn’t earned a single thing my entire adult life. My designs had never been tested. My talent was nothing compared to the strings Grayson had pulled. Five years of work had been rendered worthless in the matter of hours.
Truth be told, it scared the shit out of me to consider what else Grayson had controlled in my life without my knowledge. Did he read my emails? Did he listen to my phone calls?
Without another thought, I pulled my tennis shoes out of my closet, grabbed my keys and left my apartment. I ran down the stairs as quickly as I could, pushed through the front door, and promptly leaned over and threw up all over some poor shrubs in front of my building.
An older couple walked past me to enter the building and I waved them on as they asked if I needed any help. The last thing I needed was for one more person to help me out. I was sick and tired of being coddled and manipulated. Grayson and Brooklyn wanted to be my heroes, and instead they’d morphed into my worst nightmare.
I wiped my mouth and walked through downtown LA with my arms crossed, my thin t-shirt doing little to protect me from the night chill. I had nowhere to go. Grayson was at my apartment. I had no other family in LA. I’d given up my key to Cole Designs before I’d left the building. I thought briefly of going to a 24-hour coffee shop, but I’d left my wallet in my purse back home.
Without intending to, I walked toward Brooklyn’s condo. It felt like a bit of a copout, to seek refuge in her condo when I was trying desperately to stand on my own two feet, but I reasoned that it was only for one more night.
The bellman, Hank, recognized me and let me in without question, and I rode the elevator up to her luxury condo. I found her spare key hidden under a potted plant beside the door and let myself in. To say that stepping into her condo didn’t feel like home would be a giant lie.
The smell was familiar, and the shoes lingering by the door were ones I’d borrowed dozens of times. I knew where every item of clothing was and where she hid a secret stash of chocolate. The refrigerator was empty since she and Jason were in Montana, so I got myself a glass of water and walked over to her computer desk. I typed in her password and smiled when I saw the picture of us that she kept as her desktop background. I’d put it up as a joke; it was a heinous photo of when we’d tried to put on each other’s makeup with our eyes closed (we get bored late at night).
Seeing her smiling face made me long to call her and tell her everything I’d found on Grayson’s email. I wanted her to erase the day I’d had, to whisk me away to Montana where I could forget all my troubles.
Instead, I pulled up Expedia.com and opened the top drawer of her desk—the one where I’d stuffed a note with my credit card information years earlier in an effort to make online shopping even easier. When the website was done loading, I looked up flights from Los Angeles to Paris. I clicked on the cheapest flight that departed the very next day and reserved my spot.
It was finally time to learn if I could make it on my own.
Chapter Thirty
When I arrived home the next morning, I pressed my ear to the door and slid my key into the lock. I had exactly two hours until I planned to be at the airport for my flight. Since I’d be traveling internationally, I wanted to get there extra early so that I’d have plenty of time to make it through security and find the correct gate.
My apartment seemed to be empty; I couldn’t hear a thing from outside, so I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The living room looked exactly as it had before I’d left. I checked Hannah’s room first. Her door stood ajar, clothes strewn about everywhere. I figured she hadn’t come home at all. Smart girl. I still wanted to rip her hair out.