by Mia Ford
Inside, the lobby was stark, almost Spartan. It was the cleanest lobby I’d ever seen, with pure white sunlight filtering through the elegant glass walls. A gorgeous blonde was perched behind a chrome desk, her nose glued to her computer screen. She didn’t look up as I walked closer, and I felt my heart sink. This isn’t going to work, I realized. She’s just going to tell me to leave, and I won’t be any closer to Jackson than I was on the phone.
“Yes?” The blonde looked up when I coughed. “May I help you?”
I smiled as charmingly as I could. “Hello there,” I said warmly. “I’m Belle Harrington – Jackson Rhodes’ stepsister. I’d really like to speak with him,” I added, pausing and flashing my brightest grin. “We have some family issues right now, and well…it’s very important.”
The blonde pursed her lips. Her wide blue eyes stared at me dully, and I wondered whether or not she was the same bitch I’d spoken to on the phone. So far, she gave no hint of having anything even resembling a personality.
Finally, she smiled slightly. “I’m sorry, miss, you’ll have to make an appointment. Mr. Rhodes is very busy,” she added in a patronizing tone.
I groaned and threw my hands in the air. “I know you don’t believe me,” I said sharply. “But I really need to speak with him! It’s important.”
“I can’t do that,” the blonde said. She looked nervous. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“No!” My reply came out much louder than I’d intended and the word bounced off the walls around me. “No, I’m not going to leave until I can talk to Jackson!”
I was barely aware of the sound of elevator doors pinging open behind me.
“Ma’am, please,” the blonde said. “Mr. Rhodes isn’t available right now. Please leave, or I’ll be forced to call security to escort you out of the building.”
A deep masculine chuckling from behind made me whirl around.
Jackson was standing there, looking sexier than ever in a dark blue suit. His cheekbones were so sharp they looked carved from ice, and his grey eyes flashed over my body. His expression turned to one of disdain when he saw that it was me.
“Jackson!” I cried loudly. “I need to speak to you.” Angrily, I turned back towards the blonde at the desk. “See, he knows me,” I insisted loudly. “He’s my stepbrother!”
Jackson licked his lips. He walked closer and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. A wave of spicy cologne washed over me and I shuddered. It smelled so good, so strong – so powerful, like Jackson himself.
“Belle, what are you doing here?”
This was it. This was my big moment to scream at him, to shame him, to blame him for not wanting to take care of my mother, his late father’s widow. But when I turned to face him, I found that I was suddenly unable to speak. It was like someone had reached into my chest and yanked out the words I was going to say.
Jackson raised his eyebrow at me, smirking. “Belle, I asked you a question,” he said, in a deep, sonorous voice that sent shivers down my spine. “What are you doing here?”
I swallowed. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears and I knew that I was losing precious seconds of time. If I didn’t say anything soon, I’d have lost my chance forever.
“I need to talk to you,” I said softly.
Jackson smirked. “About what?”
That’s when my anger came back. I couldn’t believe this asshole was standing in front of me, smirking, just like nothing was wrong.
“You know why,” I hissed. “My mother is going to be homeless unless you help her out.”
Jackson shrugged. “I didn’t ask my father to leave me everything,” he said callously. “It just worked out that way.” Jackson licked his lower lip and raised his eyebrows. “You ever think that maybe, just maybe, your mom was a shitty wife?”
My fist swung through the air and connected with Jackson’s cheek before I could think twice.
Jackson took the punch without wincing. He stood there, staring at me, then lifted a hand to his cheek and gently rubbed the area where my fist had landed.
“You’re a little idiot,” Jackson said. He shook his head and grinned, then lowered his gaze down my body and stared right at my chest. “You don’t know anything, Belle.”
“I don’t know anything?” I repeated angrily. “I don’t know anything? Fuck, Jackson! It’s you who doesn’t know anything! Don’t you know that you’re supposed to take care of your family?” I pointed angrily towards my chest. “That’s what families do, Jackson! They take care of each other!”
Jackson’s smirk vanished. “My family is dead,” he said coolly, before turning on his heel and walking out of the lobby.
Chapter Four
I sank down to the floor and started to sob as Jackson walked away. Even though I screamed after him to turn around and come back, he didn’t listen. Instead, security guards came and grabbed me before unceremoniously throwing me out onto the street. It had begun to snow outside, but I didn’t even feel cold. All I felt was hatred and anger towards the man who should have been one of my closest relatives.
Jackson Rhodes, my stepbrother, was now officially my enemy.
I knew I couldn’t hang around First Perfect all day waiting to see Jackson again. The guards who tossed me out made it very clear that I wouldn’t be allowed back inside under any circumstances. Finally, I decided to take a cab back to the bed and breakfast. I couldn’t face the idea of talking to Mom yet, and I knew I’d have to come up with the perfect phrasing so she wouldn’t be upset with me.
But it is my fault, I thought dejectedly as the cab carried me through the slushy streets. If I hadn’t been such a bitch, maybe Jackson would’ve listened to me. But, oh, I wasn’t that bad. He never wanted to listen in the first place! If I hadn’t bumped into him in the lobby, I probably would’ve gone the whole trip without seeing him at all!
All I could was curl up and cry. I wound up falling asleep, gripping my legs to my chest with my shoes still on.
Hours later, the sound of the phone ringing woke up. My heart sank as I realized where I was. It’s probably Mom, I thought sadly. And now I’m going to have to tell her the truth.
Warily, I grabbed the receiver and held it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Belle?”
I frowned. “Who is this?”
There was a laugh. “It’s Jackson,” the voice said “Don’t you recognize my voice? I am your stepbrother after all. Didn’t you say something earlier about family?”
I groaned. “What do you want?”
“Hey,” Jackson said, sounding wounded. “That’s a nice way to say hello.”
I sighed. “Well, you did laugh in my face and tell me that I wasn’t really family,” I said grudgingly. “What the hell do you want?”
“I want you to meet me for lunch tomorrow.”
My senses tingled with alarm. “Why?”
Jackson chuckled again – the sound of his laughter was enough to make my blood boil.
“You’ll find out,” he said patiently, like he was talking to a small child.
“When?”
“Tomorrow,” Jackson said. “At Le Bateau Ivrea. I doubt you’ve heard of it, but it’s in Manhattan. Shall I send a driver to pick you up?”
My heart was thudding in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to refuse him, to tell him that I’d been through enough already and I didn’t need this asshole toying with my emotions.
But just as I was about to say the words, Mom’s sad face popped into my mind. I knew I couldn’t do it – I knew I had do go through whatever Jackson wanted. If there was even a slim chance of Jackson offering Mom money, I knew I had to do it.
“I can get there on my own,” I said warily. “What time?”
Jackson chuckled. “You’ve always been so independent, Belle. I’ve always liked that about you.”
We agreed to meet at twelve-thirty the next day and then Jackson hung up. When the dial tone started buzzing in my ear, I reluctantly pu
lled the phone away and set it back in the cradle. My stomach was doing nervous flips and flops – I couldn’t believe that Jackson had changed gears so quickly. What the hell was this about? I had a horrible vision – me, walking into some classy bistro, with a bloodstain on the back of my pants.
I cringed. It’s always going to be just like high school, I thought with a shiver as I lay back down in bed. And I’m always going to be weak around Jackson, just like always.
--
The next day, I dressed in the classiest outfit that I’d brought with me – a simple black dress and flat sandals – and took a cab into Manhattan. The drive was just long enough for me to start worrying about running out of money before I even left the city. I’d looked up Le Bateau Ivre online and felt concern – what if Jackson refused to pay for me? What was I going to do? The prices were so high that I knew my savings would be gone in no time.
To my shock, Jackson was there when I arrived. He was wearing a grey suit that matched the color of his eyes perfectly. As I walked closer, he stood up from his seat at the bar and smiled coldly.
“Hi, Belle,” Jackson said. He slid his eyes down my body and my cheeks flushed red as his gaze lingered at my bust. “Glad you could make it.”
I swallowed. “I didn’t really have a choice,” I said stiffly.
Jackson chuckled. “Come now, of course you did,” he replied in a light tone. “What do you think is going to happen, Belle? Why are you so afraid of me?”
I bit my tongue. Because you’ve made every effort to ruin my life and ignore me, I thought tartly. But before I could speak, a waiter showed Jackson and me to our table. When I was left alone with him, I sat up as straight as I could and reached for the menu.
The prices were enough to make me gasp. I realized that even if I ordered the most frugal thing possible, I’d still be walking out of Le Bateau Ivre a good sixty dollars lighter than I’d walked in.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson leaned over the table and pulled the menu out of my hands. “Something the matter, Belle?”
I blushed. “This place is…. expensive,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure I can afford to eat here.”
Jackson snickered. “You’re not paying,” he said. “Don’t worry, Belle. Everything’s fine.”
I stared at him. “I don’t believe you.”
Jackson made wide eyes. “What, you think I’m kind of guy who lies?” He cocked his head to the side. “When have I ever lied to you?”
“That time you tricked me into showing a roomful of strangers that I’d gotten my period,” I hissed. “How about then?”
“God, Belle, that was years ago,” Jackson said mildly. He smirked, making me blush. “You really think I haven’t changed at all since that happened?”
I blinked. “I don’t know what to think,” I said softly. “I don’t know you.”
Jackson cleared his throat. The waiter approached the table and before I could stop him, Jackson had ordered two tasting course meals for both of us. I couldn’t help but gasp – I’d seen the price of those, and I knew they didn’t come cheaply.
“So,” Jackson said. He lifted his mimosa and clinked the glass against mine, where it rested on the table. “Why did you come looking for me at work?”
I bit my lip. “You know why,” I said steadily. My stomach was churning but I forced myself to take a sip of the mimosa anyway. The orange juice and champagne was a delicious combination in my mouth, but I knew that I couldn’t keep drinking – my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Jackson chuckled. “Because of my dad’s will,” he said calmly. “That’s why, right?”
I nodded and sighed. “I don’t know why he didn’t leave anything to my mother, but please. Jackson, you’re her only hope.” I forced myself to look into his steel-grey eyes. They were so beautiful, so cold – I could feel myself getting lost in them with every second that passed.
Jackson shrugged. “My father’s wishes should be respected,” he said. “I don’t know why he did that, either, but don’t you think we should honor what he wanted?”
“No,” I said softly. “No, I don’t think that way at all. Jackson, my mother is alone. And she’s going to be homeless and broke unless you help. Please, she doesn’t need much. Just enough to get a small apartment and live for a while until she’s able to find a job.”
Jackson shrugged again. “I don’t know that I can do that,” he said. “After all, that money is marked for me. It would be a lot of legal trouble if I decided to argue my father’s will, especially that it’s in my favor like this.” He raised his eyebrows at me and I felt my stomach plummet once more. “Don’t you agree, Belle?”
“I don’t,” I said softly.
Jackson smiled. “Well, I’m sure Anne doesn’t like the idea of working, but she should be able to get a job. She worked before she married my father, right?”
“Your father was the one who made her quit,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “She would have kept working the whole time, but he said it looked unseemly!”
Jackson frowned. “I don’t know why he would have said that,” he said. “My father has always respected drive and hard work in others. I doubt he said that,” he added, in a calm tone of voice that made me seethe with anger. “You’re probably misremembering.”
I knew that I had to stay calm, but this was too much. I couldn’t just sit here, across the table from Jackson, and listen to him berate my mother and call her lazy.
“I mean, really, Belle,” Jackson continued. “You’re going to have to be a little more self-aware now that you’re what, twenty?” He smirked at me. “These are things we all have to learn,” he added in a smug voice. “So don’t get upset with me for telling you the truth about your mother.”
Every ounce of calm that I’d managed to summon in the past thirty seconds flew out of my body. Standing up, I pushed the chair back from the table so forcefully that it felt open and clattered against the floor with a loud bang. Jackson looked up in surprise. I wanted to slap him again, but that’s when my eye caught my mimosa flute. Grabbing it, I threw it in his face.
“I hate you,” I snarled loudly. “I never want to see you again!”
The look of surprise was just beginning to register on Jackson’s face as I turned on my heel and ran out of Le Bateau Ivre. Tears blinded my vision and I stumbled, almost falling as I ran. When I pushed open the bistro doors and ran into the street, the cold shocked me. For a moment, I stopped, gasping for breath. Then my instincts kicked in and I started running down the street as quickly as I could.
“Hey!” I screamed towards a cab that was parked on the corner. “Hey!”
The cab pulled away before I could reach it and I groaned in frustration. There was a stitch in my side and my breath was coming in white clouds but I knew that I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t risk Jackson chasing me out into the street. I just wanted to go home to Alfred and forget that all of this had ever happened – I wanted to imagine that life was back to normal, that Mom was okay, that I’d never have to deal with this shit again.
I broke into a run again, rounding the corner and speeding down the block.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Some lady screamed as I almost ran into her kids.
“Slow down!”
“What the fuck, girl? Where you goin’?”
The accusations from New York strangers were enough to make the tears fall faster than ever. I was choking on my snot by the time I reached the stoplight. In a blind panic, I whipped my head around to make sure that I wasn’t being followed. Thankfully, all I could see was a large crowd of people bubbling around the corners and intersections.
Gotta love New York, I thought. All these people make it a really private city, after all.
When the light changed to red, I bolted across the street. The stitch in my side ached and I longed to throw myself down on the pavement and moan in pain. I knew that I had to keep going however, and I lowered my head against the icy wind. My nose was numb and
soaked with snot and I wiped frantically at my face with the back of my hand.
Stumbling onto the next block, I kept running blindly. I took a deep breath and sprinted as fast as I could, keeping my eyes down so the wind wouldn’t burn any more than it already was.
“Aurgh!” I cried out loudly as my body slammed right into someone else. “Oh my god,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry!”
I straightened up and looked in front of me, prepared to apologize as quickly as I could and then get the hell out of there. There has to be a cab around here somewhere, I thought. I just have to keep going, just a little bit longer.
