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Chapter 1
To put it
mildly, Andie was pissed.
Her
strawberry blonde hair decided to go frizzy the one day she needed to look
professional for an interview, and it was especially noticeable since she
decided to cut it to her chin over the summer. As she was getting her usual hot
chocolate with extra whipped cream from Starbucks, some jerk completely spilled
his hot black coffee all over her only white collared blouse. By the time she
reached Phillip Enterprises for her interview, she already knew she wasn’t
going to get the internship due to her frazzled appearance, but she had to
suffer through it thanks to her high school business class requirements. She
needed some sort of internship by the end of the week or else she’d fail the
class. She was already stressed out, thanks to her mother’s reminder of how
important it was that she got this internship, how the money from Andie’s job
at the Spirit Museum and Keirah’s job at the bank just wasn’t cutting it
anymore, that taking care of family was more important than getting a good
education. Well, her mother would certainly be disappointed and no doubt remind
her how desperately they were struggling ever since their father left and how
she was depending on Andie to help out and couldn’t she just do a little more?
It would go such a long way.
The
interviewer – who, by the way, was not Jack Phillip like she was told it would
be, but some old guy, because apparently Phillip couldn’t be bothered to
interview a high school junior clamoring for the lone internship his company
offered even though he was only a few years older than she was – began the
question with the dumbest question she had ever heard: “Did you know you have a
stain on your shirt?”
The pressure
she felt pooled over. “Yes, I did. I wanted to stand out from my peers by
arriving to a very important interview with a big-ass stain on my very nice,
very expensive shirt.”
Because of
that particular retort, security had to be called because what’s a party
without rent-a-cops? In a commendable fifteen seconds, Andie found herself
walking the streets of Onyx, running her shaky fingers through her brow-length
bangs. This was a new feeling for her, being absolutely furious. She wasn’t
quite sure what to do with herself. Her fingers itched to call Carey, but she
was heading over to Carey’s house now, and anyways, it wasn’t likely she could
even formulate words at the moment. Her head was starting to pound so she
wasn’t up to par with her well-honed pedestrian dodging skills. She ran into
someone, someone built, because instead of knocking him over, she fell down
rather ungracefully on her backside.
“This is
just typical,” she hissed through gritted teeth. Before she knew it, someone
grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.
She cast her
eyes up, ready to tell the person to watch where he was going, when she came in
contact with a pair of jade-green eyes. He was tall, probably six feet, and
dressed casually – something uncharacteristic for him since he was rarely seen
in anything but one of those designer suits he owned. His thick, chestnut brown
hair was not slicked back from his face the way he normally wore it, but fell
loosely, framing his long face. His thin lips, notorious for frowning and
making out with his flavor of the week, were pursed, and he looked at her with
a quizzical brow, probably due to the furious look she was giving him.
“Of course,” she muttered. “Who do I happen
to run into on this already horrible day? You.”
They were
standing on the bustling sidewalk, the passersby none the wiser that there was
a celebrity in their mist. Andie could tell he was getting uncomfortable, but
she didn’t care.
“I’ve had
the worst day because of you,” she snapped, poking him in the chest. He was
wearing a royal blue V-neck sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The
material was soft under her fingertip. “I went to your building to be
interviewed for your internship and obviously didn’t get the job because the
interviewer – who wasn’t you, by the way, like I was led to believe – asked the
stupidest question and ugh!” She threw
her arms up in frustration.
Phillip
blinked once, twice, and then said in his usual low, soft spoken voice, “Do you
think it might have to do with your attitude? Because, certainly, my staff –
who I do train personally, though it isn’t any of your business – would never
hire someone as rude, brash, and obnoxious as you. And they certainly don’t
need me to tell them otherwise. You, on the other hand, would need more
supervision than I could afford to hire. Want some advice? Watch your mouth.”
Her mouth
dropped open as fast as if he had reached over and slapped her across the face.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she was PMSing. Maybe she was having some sort of
breakdown because of all the pressure and expectations she just failed to meet.
She was being completely unprofessional, but in the heat of the moment, it
didn’t matter. His words had no time to sink in. Before she realized what she
was doing, she grabbed her water bottle from her oversized bag, unscrewed the
cap off, and dumped it on him. Being only five foot six, Andie couldn’t pour it
over him like she wanted to, but at least she got him wet. His demeanor
darkened and his jade green eyes took on an edge.
Phillip’s
sudden demeanor change didn’t intimidate the seventeen-year-old. “Don’t act
like you know me,” she said. “Do you think I’m naturally a bitch?”
Before she
could follow up, he answered with one firm nod. “Yes.”
Once again,
her mouth dropped open, and before she could finish, he began to walk away. She
would be damned if she let him get away with the last word, so she quickly
positioned herself directly in front of him, preventing him from walking any
further. “Maybe you’re right and my attitude could use some fine-tuning,” she
admitted. “It’s no excuse for my behavior, but I’ve had the worst day, and look
at you, walking the streets without a care in the world. Well, I’m sorry Mr. Phillip,
but we weren’t all born into wealth and privilege; we all can’t walk the
streets when we want to get away from our problems. We have to work for money
and good grades, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Your
life was pretty much made for you before you were born.” Her pale eyes hardened
into emeralds. “Instead of doing any good, you walk around like you’re better
than us. Let me tell you something: Just because you have more money than
everyone doesn’t make you a better person, it just makes you an asshole.” With
that, she ran her fingers through her frizzy tresses once more before
sidestepping him and disappearing in the crowd.
It was a
blur to Carey’s home – a townhouse tucked in Onyx Garden, a gated community –
and she had to press in the key code three times before her fingers got the
keys correct. From there, it was a two minute walk to the blue and white
classic American style home. Andie walked up to the door and all but pounded on
it.
“Jeesh,
Andie,” Carey said as she opened the door. “What’s your” - she stopped
midsentence, her quick brown eyes taking in her friend’s appearance. “You look
like shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Wanna talk
about it over chocolate chip cookies?”
Carey led Andie through the foyer to the marble-topped kitchen. “My mom
made a fresh batch before she had to scurry off to confirm a really important
job tomorrow. You know, the one we’re waitressing for?” She winked as she took a seat on the barstool.
Andie headed
for the cabinet, preparing for a glass of milk. She took a seat across from
Carey and remained silent while she took a bite of the still-warm cookie. It
melted on her tongue. She had no idea how, but homemade chocolate chip cookies
always made her problems disappear. Now she could talk.
---
“Oh my God,”
Carey said, reaching up to touch the back of her neck. Her pixie-cut dark
blonde hair and soft facial features made her look like a fairy and her dimples
just added to the allure, giving mischievousness to her adorable façade. “You
did what?”
“I know, I
know,” Andie said, wincing like a puppy being scolded. “I shouldn’t have gone
off on him. It just happened. Look, in all likelihood, I’ll never see the guy
again. I’m planning to chalk the whole incident up to PMS, learn to not take my
problems out on rich douchebags, and forget about the whole thing, okay? I just
hope the guy hasn’t blacklisted me. Oh my gosh, do you think he can fire me
from the Spirit Museum? I mean, he technically doesn’t own it, but he donates
so much that I bet if he called them” –
“Dude,
Andie, calm down,” Carey said, grabbing Andie’s wrist to emphasize her point. “You’ll
be fine. It’ll all work out.”
Andie’s eyes
narrowed on Carey’s sucked-in cheeks. Carey only sucked in her cheeks when she
wasn’t telling Andie something, something important. “What, Carey?” she asked. “What
did you do?”
“Okay, the
thing is, when you hear what happens next, you’ll be slapping your knees due to
how funny life is,” she explained, her voice getting breathier the faster she
spoke. “You know the waitressing job tomorrow night? The catering job my mom is
confirming right now that you already agreed to waitress with me? Well, that
job is at Phillip’s party tomorrow night.”
Andie’s
mouth dropped open. “That’s just great,” she muttered. “Not that I don’t
appreciate the job, Care, because I do. I definitely need the money, but I’m
pretty sure once he sees my face, he’ll kick me out of his house for sure.” She
paused, sighing, and then, in a nicer tone, asked, “There’s no way I can get
out of this?”
Carey
pressed her lips together and looked at the smooth surface of the marble
countertop. That was a no.
“Fine.” Andie
felt her stomach sink into a pool on the black and white tile floor. “What time
tomorrow night?”
