This Is Now
Maggie Gilbert
This Is Now
Maggie Gilbert
A gritty, urban New Adult Cinderella story where the princess can do her own rescuing — she just needs someone to believe in her.
Sister to car thieves, ex-girlfriend to a drug dealer, high school dropout, no-hoper and loser — Jess is on the sidelines, watching her life become one epic fail. Her dreams of university are fading fast, as the people in her life fight to confine her to their own expectations.
Then she meets Sebastien, a gifted cellist from a very different walk of life. Sebastien is clean and strong and talented. He likes and respects her, but he too has expectations. Sebastien seems to think she can do anything, and Jess, despite her fears and the secrets she hides, is starting to believe him.
But just as Jess dares to hope, the secrets in her past and the lies in her present catch up with her. All seems lost and she has to make a choice. Between past and future. Between home and hope. Between now and never. And this is now.
About the Author
Maggie Gilbert can’t remember a time when she didn’t want to be a writer, even when she was otherwise occupied. She’s been an executive editor, an equestrian journalist and worked with horses for the Modern Pentathlon event at the 2000 Sydney Olympics. She’s now the marketing manager with an Agricultural Society by day and a writer of romantic stories by night — an ideal combination. She lives on a property in country NSW with her family and dogs.
Acknowledgements
Although you write a book on your own, you get a lot of help along the way. A lot of smiling and nodding, brainstorming, coffee, hand-holding, cheerleading, neck rubs, coffee, constructive criticism, blind devotion, and more coffee. It takes a whole bunch of people who say ‘Yes’. A heartfelt and humungous thank you to everyone who’s done their bit, big or small, to get us here. You know who you are.
This one’s for the cheer squad. You rock.
Contents
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…
Chapter 1
I’d just sat down on the front steps to wait for Anna when a glossy lime green ute pulled over to the kerb in front of my house. The street-illegal engine echoed throatily in the darkening street as my eldest brother Brian spilled out of the passenger door on a blast of heavy metal music and pot fumes.
The driver peered past Brian and gave me a lazy grin. ‘S’up Jess?’
‘Hey Cory.’
Brian, not one for small talk, slammed the door and banged his fist against the window. Cory tipped me a wave and swerved the ute back onto the street, almost laying rubber and totally cutting off a commuter in a Subaru station wagon. The driver jammed on the brakes and hit their horn and Brian, half way across the pavement, spun around to give them the finger, yelling at them to fuck off. Considering the neighbourhood, the width of Brian’s shoulders and the ink marking his muscly arms, the unknown driver finally did something smart and drove quickly after the disappearing ute.
Brian hitched at his jeans, satisfied, and came towards me, his blonde hair shining almost silver under the streetlight out front of our house.
‘Hey sis,’ he said, propping his boot on the step beside me. His gaze flicked up and down, assessing me from my crimson-dyed hair, gathered in a half-up, half-down do I’d copied from a magazine at the salon, to the fishnet stockings and black boots that completed my clubbing outfit. I waited for a smart-arse comment, but then remembered that would be my other brother, Troy. Although it did depend on what Brian had been mixing with his pot.
‘Got a fag?’ Brian asked.
I dug in the little black purse slung across my shoulder and pulled out my crumpled (and, I hoped, last ever) pack. Brian took two out and tucked one over his ear. The other, he lit up and sucked on furiously. Even in the dim streetlights I could see how bloodshot his eyes were. Totally stoned.
For a minute there I’d forgotten myself, thinking he was getting a smoke out for me too. Oh well, I was trying to give up.
But it was tricky, with the stress from TAFE and working at the café, not to mention all the other shit happening in my life. I tried not to think about the homework assessment tasks piling up unstarted or whose bed I’d landed in again last night, but trying not to think about something is crap, in my opinion. It’s like saying, don’t think about an elephant, and what do you think about? Yeah, a big fat wrinkly grey floppy eared old elephant. I was halfway through trying to do my HSC at TAFE and I was really struggling and it was horribly familiar, like the epic fail of year 11 all over again. I was shit-scared I’d left it all too late. Again.
I wasn’t quite twenty years old and it was starting to seem hopeless; I was afraid I was going to be sucked permanently into the same shitty life as my mother and brothers. My sister Sharon might have got out and moved to Melbourne, but even that hadn’t gone exactly the way she’d hoped.
My phone beeped with an incoming text, and I dug it out of my bag, tilting it so I could decipher the message through the cracked screen. No shiny iPhone for me; I was saving for better and bigger things.
The message was from Anna, who was supposed to have been here by now. A rush of guilt heated my skin. If she knew I’d been with Jay last night she’d pitch a fit.
Jst lvng now, soz. A.
I stuck my phone back in my bag. It’d be at least fifteen minutes before Anna got here even if she got a good run with traffic. Which she wouldn’t. Thursday evening in a crazy-cold May and everyone who had a choice was on the streets of western Sydney to somewhere else. Somewhere warmer. Home for dinner, the mall for shopping
Still, I was glad of the delay. It gave me longer to practise my innocent ‘I totally didn’t have sex last night with the same guy you’re seeing’ face. Even if it took Anna an hour to get here it wouldn’t be long enough. Despite my mostly undeserved reputation for all kinds of illegal, immoral and illegitimate shit, I was rubbish at lying.
‘That from Jay?’
‘Anna.’ Like I said, rubbish at lying, even though I knew Brian would get his hackles up.
My brother predictably pulled a face and spat his disgust onto the wilted grass of our front lawn. He sucked another hit off his cigarette, and I told myself I didn’t want one. Did not want one. Not even a little bit. I was giving up. I sighed and hugged my knees. Smoking wasn’t the only bad habit I was having trouble shaking.
‘Stuck up ho, that Anna,’ Brian commented. It was no news to me he didn’t like Anna, but I wasn’t sure why not. I mean, she was the kind of chick that most guys totally go for, tall, curvy only where she should be, big boobs, lots of hair. And she was rich, had plenty of money to throw around on drugs and booze and partying.
I didn’t much like Anna, but I was so guilty to be tangled back up with Jay that when she rang at random to ask me to go out with her I nearly always caved. Anna was a bit of a force; it was easier to just do what she wanted than argue with her. I figured she’d eventually get tired of slumming it in the we
stern ’burbs, or Jay would get tired of her and send her packing. I was hoping she’d just get bored with me and leave me alone. That he was seeing someone made it easier for me to resist Jay. At least most of the time. He’d caught me in a weak moment last night. Bourbon could do that to a girl. I was still feeling a bit seedy. Maybe that was why I said something stupid.
‘Jay seems to like her,’ I said, and knew immediately, from the sharp look my brother threw my way, that I’d really stepped in it.
‘Jay likes you,’ Brian said. ‘Or he did until you fucked it up.’
A dozen things I could say to defend myself rose up, sitting heavy on my tongue, but I clamped my lips together and held them all inside. It wasn’t smart to stir Brian up, not like Troy. Troy and I were always butting heads, and our fights were fast and loud and when we were younger, usually involved a lot of punching and kicking, but ten minutes later we’d be sharing a sandwich and watching cartoons. You’d think we’d get along like that all the time, seeing as we actually had the same Dad, but we didn’t. Brian, though, he wasn’t like us. He could hold onto things until long after you’d forgotten about them.
He mostly was kind of quiet, not like Troy who went roaring all over the place all the time. But despite the fact that Troy was an off-the-leash kind of guy, Brian only hit out if he really wanted to hurt you. He wasn’t afraid to use his fists, but where that was a first choice for Troy, Brian could cut you worse with words. And if he’d dropped a line or been drinking rum on top of good hydro pot, he could be super mean. I was wary of Brian. It was always a shock to remember he was my brother. Half-brother. It didn’t make any difference around here.
‘I thought you’d woken up to yourself,’ Brian continued, ‘when I heard you went home with Jay last night. Did I hear wrong?’
‘You heard right,’ I admitted, my stomach churning acidly. I didn’t know if that was the revenge of the Wild Turkey I’d drunk last night or regret over sleeping with Jay after I’d put myself through hell to break up with him. Possibly good old guilt that he was supposed to be with Anna. Maybe all three. I’d been too hung over to go to class that day though, and I couldn’t really afford to miss any more lectures. Luckily I was rostered off at the café, a rare event on a Thursday, or I’d have been dragging my throbbing head and dry mouth into work regardless. Jobs in good East-side restaurants weren’t all that easy to get, and I worked hard to hang onto mine. I had plans to ask for full-time work as soon as I finished my HSC. Do that for a year, save every cent I could and then, well, then I’d see. I was almost afraid to think about what came after that.
‘Jay still wants you, but you gotta be smarter about it.’
My brother had plenty of street smarts, himself, but sometimes I wondered if he was an idiot where all women were concerned, or just with me. Nobody held a gun to Jay’s head and made him start it up with Anna. That was his idea, hardly the choice you’d expect of a guy who was all ‘Going to die if I don’t get you back’. And Jay wondered why I didn’t buy all his bullshit about soul mates. Sometimes I scared myself with how much I wanted to believe it, even now. But I could never admit that to him. Or to anyone.
‘Sometimes I wonder if he does,’ I murmured, wrapping my arms tighter around my knees. Maybe I should have worn a jacket over my corset top. Now the sun had gone down it was bloody freezing. Brian’s voice, though, was even colder than the frigid air carving my bare skin into goose-bumps, as he snapped me back to the here and now.
‘Keep your wondering to yourself and keep him happy. We do business with Jay, yeah?’
I just nodded. There wasn’t anything truthful I could say that wouldn’t start a fight, and I didn’t want to have a screaming match with my brother on our front porch. The neighbours knew too much of our business as it was. I wondered again whether he was totally clueless or just careless. It wasn’t the first time he’d made me feel exactly like what he’d called Anna, traded to Jay for favours. I bit my lip, regretting the comparison. It made Brian sound like an arsehole, and he wasn’t. I knew the difference; my mother had a real knack for shacking up with them.
Brian leant his elbow on his bent knee, and looked at me, frowning. I sat there, arms still around my knees, trying to look inoffensive, keeping the bubbling resentment and uncertainty locked tight inside.
‘Jay’d give you anything you wanted. All you have to do is ask.’
I held my breath, my skin crawling uncomfortably and my heart taking a little skippety-thump in my chest. There were so many ways I could take that, none of them good. Was Brian working his way up to something? My stomach churned at the thought of the kinds of favours he might ask me to ask Jay for. I clamped my fingers around my shins, and faked a shrug, hoping he’d get the hint and back off.
‘Where’re you off to anyway?’
I kept my face still and swallowed a bitter mixture of relief that he wasn’t going to order me back to Jay, and fear that sooner or later, he would. ‘I think we’re going to The Crate. Or maybe Nikki’s, I’m not sure.’
‘You gonna hook up with Jay later?’
Not if I could help it. And not bloody likely, with Anna along. Didn’t he hear what I’d been saying? Or was he really such an idiot that he’d think I’d go off with Jay while Anna was there too?
I shrugged again, and lied. ‘Maybe. I guess.’ My skin burned, but I was pretty sure it was too dark now for him to see. The porch light was out, the bulb smashed again thanks to the little buggers on our street who liked to throw rocks. God help them if Brian or — worse — Troy ever caught them.
Brian nodded, and straightened, shifting his foot to the next step. ‘You be careful of that Anna. If she finds out you’ve been banging Jay she’s the type to claw your eyes out.’
‘Sure,’ I said, thinking he was laying it on a bit. I couldn’t imagine Anna doing anything so trashy as getting in a bitch fight. She was too, too, well, rich.
‘Say hi to Jay, yeah?’ He said, and patted my shoulder as he went past me. I swallowed a sigh.
‘Yeah.’
Chapter 2
‘Do you like Bach?’ Anna said, as she led me into the concert hall, and even with all the other obvious clues it still took me a while to work out she wasn’t talking about some dude with a name like the noise a dog makes. Yeah, OK, I was tired, hung over, edgy. I wasn’t a fan of classical music. Or maybe I was just stupid. Whatever.
‘Not really,’ I muttered, torn between wanting to punch her for doing this to me, or smacking myself for doing the stupid shit that led me here. Scowling at the elegant rear view of her in the expensive LBD and sky-high heels she was wearing, I was definitely leaning towards smacking her. Anna had asked if I minded dropping in at her little brother’s concert on the way to the club, and when I agreed I’d been imagining a skinny kid at some lame school play or something. Freezing cold, my butt numb from waiting on the porch steps for almost half an hour, I’d barely even glanced at Anna’s outfit when I finally climbed shivering into her car.
Walking behind her now, I resisted the urge to tug my mini further down over my bum, and wished in vain for some nice classy heels rather than boots picked to protect my feet from drunken fools stomping them on the dance floor. It felt as though everyone was staring at me, at my too bright, too crazy hair, my skimpy black skirt and barely-there bustier. The most casually dressed of the people moving into the hall to take their seats were wearing smart casual or office clothes, and in my favourite nightclub outfit I knew I looked out of place at best, and a complete ho at worst. I was wishing I’d bothered to get that jacket now. At least I could have covered up some skin on the top half.
Anna handed tickets to someone dressed all in black, who led us almost to the front row. I frowned. Tickets? As in plural? Surely she must have known about this in plenty of time to let me know, if she’d had to get tickets. I slid into the seat beside her, seriously pissed now that she hadn’t thought to give me any warning, and a little sick at how much I was going to owe her for the ticket. This wasn�
��t exactly a crappy school hall. The auditorium was beautifully constructed, with a soaring ceiling and gorgeous timber slats lining the walls. Architect-designed and no stinting on materials. Luxe. I hoped I’d get a chance to have a closer look before we left.
I quickly scanned the crowd, assessing attitudes as much as clothing and accessories. The café I waitressed at was smack in the business district, East side, and close enough to my TAFE that I could get to work on time after my classes. I was used to being invisible while I delivered cake and wraps and lattes to rich wives indulging after the school run, EAs on a lunch break, solicitors and architects and other professionals at business meetings. The pay was OK, especially if I scored one of the prime Sunday shifts at double time, but that money was meant to be for things like a car, or a bond on an apartment or perhaps even (yeah, in my dreams) Uni costs.
I was torn between examining the way the hall was designed and trying to calculate what kind of price bracket this gig might fall into, but I had no idea. There was such a range of people here, it was hard to tell, and the venue, while unique, was beyond my experience.
The room was amazing; high ceilings, curved walls with tall arched windows, and the acoustics were particularly intriguing, unsurprisingly considering the design elements and the fact it was a concert hall. Obviously purpose designed and built. I wondered who the architect was. Any other time I’d have been crawling around the place to have a better look, but even I wasn’t oblivious enough to do that.
I really wanted to have a look though. I didn’t get inside purposefully, architecturally designed buildings or rooms like this very often, and I had to make the most of any chances. I had some very carefully hidden dreams that aspired in that direction, not that I liked to dwell on it too much. My chances of finishing my HSC seemed worse each day, let alone getting a good enough mark to get into an Architecture degree.
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