“But what about when this is over? I’ll have no job—“
“Philip has agreed to employ you in his company, PB Marketing.”
Amara’s eyes widened with recognition, and Vivienne gave her a toothy, wicked smile, like she was in on some joke that Amara was oblivious to.
“When you move back to the States, you will be offered a job in PB Manhattan. Of course, you will not be compensated for your work there. You must understand...”
Amara understood clearly where this was going. They were going to use her until she paid back every cent her father owed them.
“What will happen to my parents if I don’t sign?”
Vivienne shrugged. “It’s not something I would know. That’s Philip’s business. I will say, your family name is very well known, Amara. Not just your father’s, but your mother’s as well. Philip can tarnish everything. He doesn’t... how is it you say... stick all his eggs in one basket. Philip is everywhere.”
Amara’s jaw tightened. She knew how much weight her last name had and how much more would be lost if she didn’t do as she was told.
“I have a couple of conditions in regards to my father...”
Vivienne smiled. “Very much like your grandfather, I see?”
Her words took Amara by surprise. She had only met her grandfather a handful of times since she was a baby. Her mother wasn’t on speaking terms with him after their falling out when Amara was a child, and the comparison wasn’t something that bode well with her. She never wanted to be in the same sentence as the sultan.
“How do you know my grandfather?”
“Oh, I don’t know him personally. I only know of him. Many people do, I suppose,” Vivienne said flippantly.
Amara stared at Vivienne for a long moment before taking the pen from the table. “Where do I sign?”
She signed on every dotted line she was told, and knew that, in that moment, she’d sealed her fate with the devil.
DOUBT CONSUMED AMARA every day after her meeting with Vivienne. She wondered constantly how long she could stay with Colin until they made her give him up. She wondered if they really were going to ship her off to France and whether or not she did the right thing by signing that stupid contract. Lastly, she wondered if it would be worth it. Was this was the only way to potentially save her mother’s life? Amara had never dealt with death—she didn’t know the despair that came with it—but she knew she couldn’t bear to lose her mother. Especially because of financial reasons. She had never been one to harbor ill feelings toward people, but the rage she felt toward her father was almost impossible to bottle up.
She knew she still loved him, but it was deeply buried now, under the ugly murk that is resentment. Amara could only hope that she never regretted cutting her father out of the deal. Any time guilt threatened to overtake her, she held it still with the knowledge that he willingly turned all the responsibility onto her. He basically invited her to screw him over. He just never dreamed she would do it. Amara walked home in a somber state. The only thing she wanted to do was spend time with Colin. When you are read your rites, you have to spend your time wisely, and Amara chose Colin. She always chose him.
Colin knew about Philip’s visit when she was seventeen. She hadn’t divulged what happened, but when she ran from her house that night, Colin had found her.
“I’ll do it,” she stated.
“Amara!” her father shouted, his eyes blazing.“Then it’s done,” Philip said. “I will come back for you.”
Amara’s eyes widened at his words and at the way his cold blue eyes scanned her face as he delivered them. She glared at Philip, then at her father, before running outside. The screen door slammed shut behind her and she heard her father shout, but her feet continued to slam against the pavement. Amara ran until she reached the empty field a couple of miles down. Nobody went to that field—rumor had it that an oil tycoon owned the lot and wouldn’t sell it. Amara stopped running when she got there, but her legs were so wobbly she fell to the ground, her knees skinned as she caught herself with her hands. She let her head hang as she gasped heavy breaths.
“Mara?” Colin asked, startling her.
Amara didn’t have enough breath to speak, but she nodded.
“You okay?” he asked, sounding worried.
She continued to nod in response. What else could she do? Cry? Tell him she just agreed to whore herself out? Once she calmed down, she began to spew about everything: her father’s gambling, her mother’s cancer, and about how she’d agreed to work for her father’s friend so that he would help her family. She didn’t elaborate much on that, but still made Colin promise not to tell anybody.
“I won’t tell, Mare, I promise,” Colin said.
He looked at her with sincerity in his eyes and she wished so much that she could throw her arms around him. That he would hold her, kiss her, anything, but he was Colin and she was Amara. And they were friends. Just friends.
“What are you doing out here?” Amara asked, looking around the empty field.
The stars were shining bright above them, seemingly unaware of the darkness around and below them.
“I was jogging, then stopped here to think... or not think,” Colin said with a rueful chuckle.
Amara smiled. “No, I mean here... why aren’t you in the city?”
She loved it when Colin was in town, but it was a rarity lately since he was always either in school or working.
“Oh. Just hanging out. Needed a break,” Colin explained with a shrug. His eyes stayed on her when he spoke. Even when she wasn’t looking at him, she felt them.
Amara nodded slowly. “The stars are bright tonight,” she said, looking at the Big Dipper, or maybe it was the little one. She could never tell the difference.
“They’re always bright, we just don’t always see them,” Colin said.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Amara said. “We don’t see a lot of things, until it’s too late.” She let her gaze drift to his once the words left her mouth, and wondered if he’d caught her innuendo.
Colin nodded, his face serious. She couldn’t see much of it in the dark, only what the moonlight allowed, but he could make out his sharp jaw and cheekbones, his wavy hair, and a scruff over his cheeks. She wanted to reach out and let the hair on his face prickle her fingertips.
“Sometimes we see everything, but purposely ignore it because we don’t want to make promises we don’t know we can keep,” Colin responded.
“You’ll call me, right? If you need anything?” Colin asked.
Amara nodded slowly and swallowed. “Yeah, I’ll call you.”
She never did call; not about Philip anyway. Unless she had to for some reason, she couldn’t bear to make him a part of this. She knew how much her friendship meant to him, but she also knew how important paving his own way in the business world was. He had his eyes set on starting up a big investment company, and the last thing Amara wanted was to be the reason he short-changed himself. Now, her greatest fear had come full circle. Philip was collecting on his debt, and Amara was faced with breaking up with Colin – just when she had what she’d always wanted. Colin was damn near perfect. Frazzled, Amara decided on a trip to visit her mother. Once she did that, she would know what to do.
“MOM?” AMARA CALLED out as she stepped into her parent’s lavish, two-story home in Westchester. She’d parked her car in the large, empty, circular driveway, thinking that her mother’s car must have been parked in the four-car garage.
When there was no response by the third time she called out for her mother, Amara began to worry. She picked up the pace and walked into the kitchen, but there was nobody in sight. Normally Carol, the housekeeper, was around, but there was no sign of her either.
“Carol?” Amara called out loudly as she ran up the curved stairs that led to her parent’s bedroom.
“In here!” Carol called out. “We’re in the closet!”
Amara sprinted to her mother’s walk-in closet. Her mother sat on the floor, he
r legs folded beneath her and crossed at the ankles. She looked like an exotic version of Jackie Kennedy, with her buttoned blouse tucked in at the high waist of her electric blue ankle pants. Her long, black wig was wavy, cascading along her shoulders, the way her natural hair would have been had it grown back fully. Her bright green eyes searched Amara’s dubiously.
“What are you doing?” Amara asked, placing a hand over her heart as she tried to regain her breath. “I thought something was wrong.”
Her mother frowned and Carol laughed. “Wrong? What’s wrong is that your mother has more shoes than she knows what to do with,” Carol responded.
Amara’s mother laughed, shaking her head. “You look well,” her mother said.
“So do you,” Amara said with a smile as she leaned down to kiss her mother’s forehead. “What did the doctor say?”
She exhaled. “Well, the bad news is, the tumor is still there. The good news is that there’s a doctor in Connecticut that specializes in this type of cancer and is willing to treat me. They gave me medicine for now, in hopes that it will shrink.”
Her heart felt heavy, but she tried to give her mom an encouraging smile nonetheless. “That’s good news.”
“Great news, Mara. Great news. I’ve been on his waiting list for years, but the doctor won’t allow people in, regardless of what you pay him. Somehow Philip was able to get us a spot. I am forever grateful.”
Amara stopped breathing for a moment as her heart thundered in her chest. “When... when did they call you?” she asked, swallowing loudly.
“This morning,” her mother said with a bright smile. “I have a good feeling about this. It’ll cost a fortune, but—“
“You know it doesn’t matter what it costs,” Amara said, knowing all too well what it was costing her.
Her mother gave her a pointed look before she sighed and nodded in agreement. “Enough about that, tell me about graduation. How’s Colin?” she asked, patting the empty spot on the floor beside her.
They never spoke about the pink elephant in the room. The fact that they put up the false façade that everything would be okay financially was already uncomfortable enough without voicing it. Her mom was too loyal to her dad for to her leave him, and Amara was too loyal to both of them, regardless of their ways, to disobey them. Her upbringing never wavered—she couldn’t break a lifelong habit. Even her mother and Uncle Vlady, who’d had issues with their parents, knew better than to go against their elders.
Amara smiled and folded her legs beneath her. She leaned into her mother’s open arms and let her stroke her hair as they spoke about graduation plans and all things Colin.
“Did you hear back from that company?” she asked after a while.
Amara had sent her resume to a number of PR companies in New York, and had heard back from a few of them, but there was one she had her eye on. She had set up interviews with some before Vivienne barged into her life, demanding her “services.” Amara tried to steady her breath, trying not to worry her mother, and gave her a shaky smile.
“Yeah, a couple called back,” she said brightly.
Her mother furrowed her eyebrows, and Amara could see worry clouding over her eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you worried they won’t hire you? Mara, you have outstanding grades. You will get hired!”
Amara laughed uncomfortably, trying to figure out how she could throw Paris in there. Her mother would never understand her leaving, especially in the condition she was in. Amara hated leaving her mother at home to attend school thirty minutes away, so she wasn’t sure how a decision to go to Paris would be convincing.
“I’m sure they will. Just worried, I guess,” she responded with a small shrug.
“I spoke to Colin’s mother the other day. She says he’s really excelling at his job,” her mother said with a warm smile. “That boy can charm anyone. And he knows his numbers; I need to call him so he can look at some accounts for me.”
She always spoke about Colin as if he were part of their family. He spent holidays with them, came for birthdays, and surprised her mother with flowers whenever he was visiting his parents. And now she was going to rip him away from it all. Memories they’d shared in her house, and in his, played through her mind. Suddenly, the closet was too small for Amara. The house was too small for her. She stood quickly and began to walk away.
“Mara, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Carol asked, scrambling toward her.
Amara waved her off, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m going to get some water. I think I’m a little dehydrated.”
She walked out of the room before either one of them could see the tears filling her eyes. She wandered to her old bedroom, the walk seeming longer than she’d remembered. Amara took the time to look at all of the photos hanging on the long hallway. Pictures of herself as a little girl riding a bicycle, cheerleading, as homecoming queen, and attending prom. She stopped in front of a photo of her and Colin. It was a candid picture her mother had taken of them at a mutual friend’s wedding. They were standing on the beach as the sun was setting, facing one another.
They weren’t kissing, or even holding hands, just looking at each other. Colin’s dark hair was brushed back, his eyes shining, as he looked at a flushed Amara. She’d gotten a deep golden suntan on their trip to Costa Rica, and her skin looked radiant against the color of the fuchsia bridesmaid dress she’d worn. Her amber eyes looked golden in the fading sunlight as she’d gazed up at Colin with such love. The picture screamed “postcard perfect.” That trip had been the first time Amara’s father accepted Colin as her boyfriend, even though he really hadn’t been at the time. Amara liked the idea of her and Colin being exclusive with each other without the title. She was scared to get too attached to him or call him her boyfriend, just in case. The more she watched her father disappear late at night, the bigger that nagging feeling became—that someone would sweep in and take her away. Amara had made her choice clear to Colin from the beginning though. As much as they enjoyed one another, it couldn’t be serious.
“We’re not official or anything,” she said.
“Yes, we are,” Colin countered, sucking on her bottom lip.
“No,” Amara argued, her voice muffled against his lips.
Colin let her go and backed away. “So you want to be fuck buddies?”
“You don’t have to call it that,” Amara said, slightly offended.
“You want me to be the only one who fucks you, right? Unofficially, that is.” Colin asked, his lip quirking up into what Amara could only be described as a sinful smile.
“I guess?” she replied, biting her lip.
Colin’s eyes flickered there and back to her eyes. “Nobody else... only each other?”
“Yes.” Amara said, her breathing becoming frantic as he slid his hands under her thin shirt.
“Any time, any place,” Colin added, brushing his fingers against her breasts.
“Yes,” Amara said, arching her back.
“I can live with that.”
When she finally made it to her old room, Amara shut the door and climbed into her bed. She covered herself with the oversized, white comforter and snuggled into her pillow as she looked around the soft pink room. It didn’t matter how old she was, that room would always feel like home to her. The bulletin board beside her bed was filled with pictures of her and her friends—cheerleading, at concerts, in the hallway at school. Her eyes landed on one picture that she’d never particularly paid much attention to before. It was one of her and Mallory making funny faces at the camera. Behind them stood two guys: Colin and his friend Mike. Mike was talking to Colin, laughing about something, and Colin was smiling, looking directly at Amara.
The look in his eyes made the pit of her stomach warm. She knew that look. How many times had he looked at her that way, like he wanted to devour her, and it had gone right over Amara’s head? She covered her face with the duvet and shut her eyes, but the only thing she could see was Colin’s smile. Her heart felt like it couldn’t b
ear to break any more than it already had.
Shortly after, she heard her mother calling for her, and Amara got up with a groan, kicking the covers off and putting her shoes back on before heading downstairs.
“I was looking for you,” her mother said when Amara appeared in the kitchen. “I thought you were going to get water.”
“I was, but I stopped in my room.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” her mother asked, searching her face.
Amara turned away and walked to the refrigerator. “Mom, I have to tell you something...”
And so, she did the very thing she hadn’t wanted to do. She knew her mother would be livid at her father, and probably even at her, but she couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. If there was one person in the world that deserved to know the truth, and who may even understand it, it was Anna Maloof. There were tears in their eyes when Amara finished divulging everything and, as she wiped her face and looked at her mother, she expected her to tell her a million things—a million things that were far from what her mother said when she finally spoke.
IN THE BEGINNING, they didn’t see each other every day, but over time, the boundary lines Amara had set in the beginning of their relationship began to blur until they couldn’t remember what it was they’d told each other they wouldn’t do. The calls became more frequent, the text messages more flirty, and their days together consecutive. Amara never complained about it —she loved being with Colin—but she was wary that she’d grow too attached to him. She always knew she’d have to let go, but never realized to what extent. Giving Colin up between one day and the next wasn’t something she’d considered, and that weighed her down the most.
The Devil's Contract Page 3
