by Tia Wylder
The truth was, I was both excited and nervous. What if no one called me and asked me to come in for an interview? I hadn’t thought of that – I’d been so focused on the idea of getting a job that I hadn’t stopped to think about what would happen if I couldn’t.
“I’m going upstairs,” I said suddenly, standing up and taking my plate over to the sink.
Mom frowned. “Gianna, you barely ate anything. Are you coming down with something?”
Just an overwhelming desire to leave home and never come back, I thought. But instead, I forced a smile.
“No,” I said. “Just tired. That’s all.”
The next day, I was excited when I woke up to see that I had two missed calls and a voicemail from one of the restaurants where I’d applied. When I listened to the message, I had to cover my mouth to keep from squealing in glee. They’d asked me to come in at eleven-thirty for an interview, and I jumped up and down as I tossed my phone down on my bed. After dressing in a black pencil skirt and a white blouse, I went downstairs.
Mom was standing in the kitchen, watching as Ceri put together an apple pie.
“You’re up early,” Mom said. She frowned. “And where are you going, looking like that?”
“Jessica asked me to get lunch,” I said. “I felt like wearing something nice for a change.”
“Do you want me to have Curtis drive you?” Mom yawned. “I think your father is at home.”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll just call a cab.”
Mom narrowed her eyes but she didn’t say anything. “I see,” she said. “And when will you be back?”
I shrugged. “Whenever we finish eating, I guess,” I said.
Mom sighed. “You know, I really shouldn’t let you go, especially after what happened the other night.”
I groaned. “Mom, it’s just lunch. Come on!”
Mom tutted and shook her head. “Fine,” she said. “Are you sure about Curtis?”
I nodded. “I’m fine,” I said.
As I walked down the long cobblestone driveway that led to our palatial house, I couldn’t help but smile. Even though the cab waiting at the end of the drive was grimy and dirty, the sight of it still filled me with joy at the knowledge that soon, I was going to make a life for myself…no matter what it took.
When the cab pulled up in front of Trembling Orchard, I began to feel nervous. What would happen if I didn’t get the job? Or, almost worse – what would happen if I got the job and then couldn’t figure out a way to lie to my parents every day?
I’ll figure it out later, I told myself as I squared my shoulders and walked inside, trying to project an air of confidence. I always do.
A smiling hostess greeted me. “Table for one?”
I smiled back. “I’m actually here for an interview. I’m Gianna DiFaba – they wanted me to come in at eleven-thirty.”
The girl’s smile faltered, and for a moment I wondered if I hadn’t accidentally come to the wrong place. But after a moment, she nodded. “This way, please.”
I swallowed nervously as the girl led me to a small office. There was an older woman sitting down behind the desk, and she cocked her head to the side.
“I’m Gianna,” I said. “Gianna DiFaba – you wanted me to come in for an interview?”
The woman frowned. “Well, you didn’t call us back to confirm,” she said, glancing down at a sheet of paper in front of her. “And normally that’s something we look for. But we do have an opening, so why not have a seat?”
My stomach churned as I sat down in front of the desk. “Sorry I didn’t call you back,” I said nervously, twisting my hands in my lap. “I didn’t think I needed to.”
“Hm,” was all the woman said. “I’m Marie,” she said. “I’m the manager of Trembling Orchard. Tell me, what prospect of working here has you the most excited?”
“Oh, getting a job, definitely,” I said quickly. “I’ve always wanted a job.”
“Hm,” Marie said again. “No, I mean, what about this restaurant specifically?”
I flushed. “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know very much about the restaurant…but I could learn,” I said, smiling and nodding. “I’m always willing to learn, and I’m really eager to work here.”
“Gianna, do you have a resume for me? What kind of work experience do you have?”
Shit, I thought as I sank back against the chair.
“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Marie said. “Have you ever worked in a restaurant before?”
“Not exactly,” I said. And then, seeing Marie’s forced smile begin to fade, I quickly added: “But I’ve spent loads of time with our cook, Ceri, watching her do everything in the kitchen, and I know I’d probably be good at it. Oh, and whenever my parents have catered parties, I always watch the caterers. They’re so good at their jobs!”
Marie gave me an odd look. “Gianna, I’m not sure you would be the best fit for this role,” she said slowly.
“Why not?” I frowned. “I’ve never had a job before, but I promise I’d be a really good worker. I swear,” I said, well aware that I sounded desperate. It was embarrassing – I’d never had to beg for anything in my life.
“Gianna, how much money are you looking to make, exactly?”
I frowned. I had no idea how much my father made, but I knew it had to be well into the seven-figure range. I’ll just cut one of the numbers off, and then that’s probably fine, I thought, trying to calculate in my head. “Um, I don’t know – two hundred thousand a year?”
Marie laughed out loud. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, covering her mouth. “Gianna, I don’t even make that much money…and this is one of Boston’s premier restaurants,” she said. Her voice was sharp, but not unkind. “Look, can I give you a piece of advice?”
“Okay,” I said nervously.
“Why don’t you look into enrolling in a community college and taking a few classes,” Marie said. “They often have on-campus jobs for students, and something like that would allow you to get some work experience.”
I frowned. I hadn’t expected her to say anything like that.
“I don’t think my parents would let me,” I said.
Marie sighed. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“You’re too old to let your parents dictate your every move,” Marie said firmly. “And if you want to be independent, you’re going to have to learn how to do it on your own.”
I flushed scarlet. “Okay,” I said softly. “Thank you.”
Marie nodded. She reached out her hand, and after a moment, I realized she was offering her hand for me to shake. I scrambled to my feet and put my palm against hers.
“Good luck, Gianna,” Marie said kindly. “And I mean that.”
“Thanks,” I said miserably.
Outside, on the sidewalk, I felt like crying. How was it possible that I’d made it to twenty-five without knowing even the most basic life skills? The “interview” had been one of the most embarrassing experiences in my life…and Marie had been nice about it! God, I thought as I walked down the sidewalk, avoiding the crowds of people. Imagine how much worse it could’ve been.
My heel caught in a crack in the sidewalk and I tumbled to the concrete, crying out in pain as I skinned my knees and the palms of my hands. No one stopped to help me – no one even paused. They just grumbled and groaned as they walked around me, obviously annoyed that some stupid girl was taking up so much space on the sidewalk. By the time I got to my feet, tears were in my eyes, and I knew I had to get out of public immediately if I didn’t want to launch into hysterics. Blinded with tears, I ran into the nearest building and tried to catch my breath.
A smiling man in a suit approached me. “Ma’am, how may I help you?”
“What?”
“Welcome to the Bank of Boston,” he said. “How may I help you?”
Oh my god, I thought. This is my parent’s bank!
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. A strange, wonderful, thr
illing, scary idea.
“Yes,” I said, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’d like to make a withdrawal, please.”
The man smiled. “Right this way, please.”
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the back of a cab with a brand-new debit card, in my own name, stowed safely in my wallet and ten thousand dollars cash in a small box at my feet. I’d moved ten million from my savings account to a new checking account that was in my name alone. Taking the cash out hadn’t been a problem – the bank was very familiar with my father – and even though my parents’ names were also on my account, I was still able to withdraw the money since I was over eighteen. By the time I got home, it was hard not to grin from ear to ear.
“Hi, Mom,” I called out when I stepped into the foyer. “I’m home!”
Mom came out of the kitchen, frowning. “That damned Ceri,” she said, shaking her head. “She keeps trying to tell me that your father likes venison! I know he hates it,” she added in a venomous tone.
“Right,” I said. “I’m just going up to my room.”
Mom glanced down at the box in my hands. “Gianna, what is that?”
“Oh, nothing,” I said. “It’s some lingerie for Jessica – I had them use a box they were going to throw away so she wouldn’t expect anything. Her bridal shower is this weekend,” I added. “Remember?”
Mom nodded. I could tell that she was still distracted. “Right,” she said.
“I’ll be down for dinner,” I called over my shoulder as I started walking upstairs. Because god knows I’ve got a lot to do between now and then.
As soon as I was in my room, I locked the door and looked down at the heavy box of cash in my hands. I’d never seen so much money at once before, much less held it in my arms. But I knew I had to act fast – luck could only be on my side for so long. I had a feeling that the bank would call my father and tell him that his eldest daughter had nearly drained her savings account before too much longer.
I took my laptop in my hands and started searching for flights to Los Angeles. This is it, I thought. I’m finally taking charge of my own life. I bought a ticket for later that afternoon, leaving Logan Airport at five-thirty. Seeing the confirmation email filled me with joy. For a moment, I almost regretted it. After all, I was deceiving my parents in the worst way possible.
But I have to do this, I thought, still staring at the screen. There’s no way I can stay here, and marry that old pig Barnaby.
“Gianna!” Diane yelled from the hall. “Why is your door locked?”
“I’m changing,” I yelled back. “What do you want?”
Diane knocked loudly. “I need to talk to you,” she said.
I groaned. The last thing I needed was for my stupid, mealy-mouthed sister to discover my plot and tell our parents.
“Fine,” I said. “But make it quick. I’m busy.”
When I opened the door, Diane was standing there with a weird look on her face. “How are you busy,” she asked. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
Diane looked over my shoulder and narrowed her eyes. When I saw her jaw drop, I realized I’d forgotten to close my laptop.
“Los Angeles?” Diane asked incredulously. “How did you do that? Is it for Jessica’s bachelorette?”
I sighed. “I bought the ticket myself,” I said.
“How?”
I shrugged. “I went to the bank today,” I said. “I’m moving there.”
“Gianna, you can’t be serious,” Diane said. She took a step toward the door. “I’m telling Mom and Dad!”
“You’ll do no such thing,” I said sharply.
Diane froze in her tracks. “Well, what are you going to do to make sure I don’t?”
I laughed drily. “Are you seriously trying to blackmail me? I thought you’d be happy – this way, Barnaby’s all yours.”
Diane gave me a cross look. “You realize I can’t just…lie, right?”
I shrugged. “Then don’t say anything to me at all.”
Diane bit her lip. “You can’t take a suitcase, you know. They’re going to realize something’s up. You can only take what you can carry.”
I blinked
“What? You’re surprised that I’m helping you?”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “A little.”
“Well, send for me when you get out there,” Diane said. “You know – when you get a job.”
I tossed my long hair over one shoulder. “I’m going to be a famous actress,” I said.
“Probably not,” Diane said sarcastically. “But I’m sure you can find something.”
“Well, I’m going to get out of Boston,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “God, Los Angeles! Can you believe it?”
“I’m jealous,” Diane grumbled. “Promise you really will send for me?”
I nodded and gave her a stern look. “As long as you keep your mouth shut,” I said. “I promise.”
Diane gave me a long look before nodding. “Okay,” she said. “I won’t say anything.”
I looked around my room. I only had four hours before my flight. With Diane’s help, I swapped everything in my purse into a bigger purse. I had just enough room for my laptop and phone charger before it was practically stuffed.
“I’ll drive you to the airport,” Diane said. “We can tell Mom we’re going shopping for Jessica.”
I felt an unexpected surge of affection for my younger sister. Despite looking like twins, Diane and I had never been the best of friends. If anything, I’d always sort of felt like prison cellmates instead of sisters. But I was starting to realize that she, too, was growing up…and maybe she was craving the same kind of freedom and independence that I’d wanted desperately for so long.
“Thanks,” I said. “I love you, sis.”
Diane cocked her head to the side. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said that,” she said slowly. “But I love you, too.”
I smiled. “I’m going to miss you.”
Diane laughed. “No, you’re not,” she said. She sighed enviously. “You’re going to be having way too much fun in Los Angeles to even think about me.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “I mean, I won’t miss this. But I’ll miss you.”
Diane giggled.
“What?” I asked.
“Barnaby is going to be so disappointed,” Diane said, shaking her head and covering her mouth with both hands. “The first time he actually comes over, he won’t even get to meet you.”
I grinned. “Fuck him,” I said. “We can do better than that.”
Chapter 4
Barnes
After my talk with Jack, I knew I had a lot to think about. For a brief moment, I even entertained the idea of flying to Nassau and visiting him – the idea was especially appealing now that Boston was getting colder by the day. But I knew that I’d meant what I said – I couldn’t take advantage of a dear friend’s hospitality, no matter how much Jack insisted.
I was going to have to do things on my own if I wanted to make a real change.
On Friday afternoon, I was just getting ready to leave the office when my secretary, Tanya, stepped inside.
“Mr. Harrington?”
I didn’t look up from the email I was typing. “Yeah?”
“There’s someone on the phone for you – a Mr. Thomas Winsell?” Tanya flushed.
“Oh, yeah, put him through,” I replied. “He’s a friend of mine.”
Tanya hesitated in the door.
“What is it, Tanya?”
Tanya bit her lip and squirmed on the spot. “I hate to ask, Mr. Harrington, and I know it’s really unprofessional, but…” She trailed off, twisting her hands in front of her.
I sighed. “What?”
“Is he the same Thomas Winsell who produces Springs of Paradise?”
I snorted. “Yeah,” I said. “He’s been a producer for years.”
“Oh my god,” Tanya said. “That’s so excit
ing.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Just go ahead and put him through,” I said. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Tanya’s flush turned from pink to deep red, and she nodded quickly before scurrying out of my office. When I saw the red light blinking on my phone, I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear.
“Thomas!”
