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The Entitled

Page 18

by Cassandra Robbins


  “Tess!” Lana is annoyingly waving a hand in my face.

  “Stop it.” I slap it away.

  “Well, you’re scaring me. You’re pale and your eyes are glazed over like you’re in another world.”

  “Lana, back off. She’ll be fine. Maybe we should wait.” Brance looks at me then out the window.

  “No, she needs to know. Maybe that will open her eyes.”

  Turning so I can see Brance, his chocolate eyes search my face for answers. I curl my hands into a fist and try to breathe. Whatever is torturing him must be bad because his body is radiating nervous energy. I look away, unsure I want to put myself through anything else. I’ve managed to lock my feelings away. Do I honestly want them to escape?

  The driver clears his throat forcing me to focus. “Excuse me, Ms. Volkov, we’re here. Do you want me to drop you off at the door, or do you want me to circle around again?”

  She looks at me. “Are you going to make a scene?”

  I straighten my shoulders. “Don’t be stupid, Lana. I’m fine. Nothing Brance can say can hurt me.” Well, that’s a lie, but she doesn’t need to know that I’m getting ready to snap. Plastering on my prettiest smile, I face Brance. “Is anyone dead?”

  “No.”

  “See… there you have it. Problem solved. Drop us off, Steven.”

  He pulls over, and we exit. Walking up to the colorful restaurant, we see a red sign and green wooden windows welcoming us.

  Lana’s phone goes off. I can tell she is talking to my father because her voice drops a notch.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Stop it,” Brance chastises me.

  “What? Oh, you mean the eye roll at watching Lana humiliate herself for my father?” I want to say more but she hangs up flustered.

  Exhaling, she says, “So, your father is going to join us. Let’s go in and get a table.”

  The restaurant is busy for lunch, and we have to sit in the middle at a long thin table with pretty lilies set in the center. I can’t help but snicker, knowing my dad will hate this table. He can’t stand people invading his space. The kitchen is open, and it has a big wood-burning oven. White-jacketed chefs remove bubbling pizza and fresh-baked bread from it.

  Lana is all business, and our eight-year age difference goes right out the window. She transforms into everything my father wishes her to be: a sophisticated woman emerges.

  “I’m going to freshen up.” She eyes me like I should follow. I smile. “Fantastic. We’ll be waiting.”

  She hesitates, then looks at her watch and leaves us.

  I order some sparkling and plain water and bread. Placing the white cloth napkin on my lap, I face Brance. “Tell me,” I hiss, not looking up.

  He lightly touches my cheek, forcing me to make eye contact. “You know I just want you to be happy. I have debated saying anything because I’m not sure you need to hear it.”

  I bite my lip and take a sip of cool water, knowing whatever he’s about to say is going to change me.

  “Do your worst.”

  Then he does, butchering me with four words. “Reed is with Lexi.”

  Lexi. Her blond hair and ugly body swim before me. I never allow myself to think about her since she is everything I find evil. She has been stalking Reed for years. He hates her as much as I do.

  “Take another sip of water.” Brance holds up the crystal glass to me; the ice cubes swirl and sparkle.

  Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t believe it!” My voice is getting loud.

  Brance simply stares. I look around, not caring what people think about me. But no one seems to notice. Their happy smiles and laughter make me want to throw something to shut them up.

  “Tess, look at me.” I do, then wish I hadn’t because it’s all there on my best friend’s face. His pain is real, and he is feeling it for me. “I confronted him because I couldn’t believe it. He didn’t deny it.”

  I stand up. “No! Not with her—he wouldn’t!”

  Brance gently pulls me down into my chair.

  “He did, Pretty Girl. It’s time for you to move on too. I need you to think about this, Tess. Maybe we should move to LA and start over together.”

  Blinking at him a couple times, I try to get my mind to work. The pain and betrayal are about to make me scream and I might never stop. My eyes dart around the restaurant, looking for a safe corner to curl up in and vanish.

  I grab my water, spilling it all over my shirt, the wetness cold and not unnoticeable, but I’m beyond caring.

  Brance rubs my back. When Lana slinks into the chair next to me, her freshly applied makeup looks perfect.

  “So, he told you what a piece of shit your boyfriend is.” She flags the waiter to order a chardonnay.

  I clear my throat. “He’s not my boyfriend.” I stare at them dumbly.

  Brance reaches for my chin and holds my face tight. “Tess, you are the most important person to me. You’re going to be okay, and just so you know, I have decided not to move yet, so you will be staying with me.” He’s so good and confident, I wish I could crawl inside him.

  Tears sting my eyes. “Brance…” I want to say more, but my father’s tall build fills up the small walkway.

  “Do you think you could have gotten a worse table?” he grumbles at me and turns to Brance. “And you… are you sure you’re gay? I think I have been hustled into thinking you were safe to be around my daughter.” He chuckles at himself.

  “Daddy! That’s not funny. You’re being rude.”

  He ignores me and holds out his hand to Brance who stands.

  “Mr. Gallagher, good to see you again.”

  My father’s attention returns to me, and he gives me a disapproving stare. Obviously, I don’t rank on his perfection scale. Lana does though. His eyes light up with approval. “Svetlana.” He leans down to tenderly kiss her.

  That’s it. I push my chair back. “Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.”

  I’m going to puke. I can feel it coming up, burning my esophagus. My legs move as fast as they can. Bursting into the restroom, I lean over the toilet, waiting for my body to purge itself. I heave, but nothing comes out. As the agonizing seconds tick by, my mouth stops watering and I lean back resting against the side of the stall.

  Reed is with Lexi!

  Closing my eyes, I try to calm my manic mind, but the stupid childhood song plays in my fuzzy brain. Reed and Lexi sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. I almost start laughing at the betrayal and that this might be my tipping point.

  “Unbelievable!” I kick the door, and it snaps open and shut like a boomerang. This is the ultimate nail in our coffin. He wanted to send me a direct message? Mission accomplished.

  Hands go up to my face, and I want to hide. My life is a joke—a sad waste of a pretty face.

  “Tess?”

  I push open the stall door. Brance stands with his arms crossed.

  “You’re going to get us thrown out.”

  “Maybe.” We stare at each other. He nods, knowing what I’m going through.

  “This one hurts the most.” Tears swim in my eyes.

  “Christ, you should have let me castrate him.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Come here, Pretty Girl.” The tips of our fingers touch as he reels me in to his warmth. The thought of Reed’s dick, thick and proud, pulsing in my hand, is enough to make me wail, especially if I had allowed Brance to cut it off.

  “Jesus Christ, Tess! You’re shaking. Please stop crying. You’re killing me.”

  Lifting my chin, he stares at me. “You know what, screw that! Let it go. Fucking freak out if you want.” He crushes me to his warm chest, rocking me back and forth, then opens the bathroom door, pulling me with him around a corner and through a side exit.

  “You know that door is for the employees.”

  “You need some air.”

  We’re in the alley, but I can still see the quaint street we came in on. It’s alive with twentysomethings mingling and shopping.

&
nbsp; “I want to feel like them,” I say, motioning to the carefree girls who are laughing at something on one of their phones.

  “I hate him, Brance. And I hate my father. They stole that from me.”

  Brance glances at the giggling teenagers. I notice my mascara has stained his pale pink button-down shirt.

  “If it makes you feel better, I hate him too. Reed, not your father.”

  I snort, then wipe at his shirt. “I think I got snot on you.”

  He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. But you have to let him go if you’re ever going to feel like them.” He tilts his head toward the giggling girls.

  I nod because it’s true. It’s time to bury Reed Saddington.

  “I need your help.”

  He smiles, his pretty white teeth, distracting me. “Anything.”

  “Good.” A siren goes by. “I want to dye my hair blond,” I yell over the sound.

  He frowns. “Blond?”

  “Uh-huh… and I want to pump my lips with collagen.”

  He blinks at me. “Excuse me?” He grabs my elbow, moving us away from the dumpster and the rancid smells inside it.

  “You heard me,” I say, wiping my eyes. This is going to take some manipulation.

  “No way. No lips. You want to dye your hair, fine. No lips. You’ll look like one of the Simpsons.”

  Rubbing my nose, I say, “Brance, I love you, but I’m going to do this, so you can either support me or go home.”

  Hurt darkens his eyes. “Really?”

  “Yeah, I’m done being nice.”

  “Apparently.”

  “Whatever, I can tell you think I’m being dramatic… and immature.”

  “You are.”

  We stare at each other in silence. Until I feel a slight drizzle on my eyelashes.

  Brance shakes his head. “Congratulations, Tess. Way to let Reed drag you down again.”

  “I want to be blond and have big fat lips. Just once, I want to tell everyone to fuck off.”

  “You already have big fat lips,” he snarls.

  “Bigger. You know what I mean. I want to do something that Reed would hate. I need to be everything he despises. Call it closure.”

  Brance looks baffled, but then his lips start to twitch.

  “Don’t you dare laugh!” I say, my lips starting to twitch also.

  Looking down at the wet pavement, he responds at last. “Well, I guess you’re going to be a blonde then. I will, of course, be there to hold your hand and make sure you don’t look like shit.” His voice is uncharacteristically weary, like he knows I’m lying about wanting closure.

  “I hate you changing anything on yourself. You’re perfect and you know it.”

  “That’s exactly why I need to do this—because I’m not perfect. No one is. I’m desperately flawed. But I’m okay with that, and I need for others to see that too.”

  “Whatever you need, Pretty Girl.” Suddenly the door opens, and a waiter steps out, lighting a cigarette. Brance smiles as his foot stops the door from shutting. “After you.”

  “Thank you,” I say, walking toward my father’s dark head and Lana’s light.

  TESS

  I stare at myself in the mirror. I don’t believe I did this. Holy shit!

  My long brown hair has been bleached blond and not like dishwater blond. We’re talking Marilyn Monroe blond. Leaning forward, I darken my eyelids and smear on some dark plum lip gloss.

  Transformation complete.

  Lana’s plastic surgeon kicked ass. He did my lips as a favor. I guess he doesn’t sully himself with collagen anymore. The bickering between Brance and Lana over how much collagen I needed was rather amusing. The poor surgeon had to play referee.

  I can’t help but smile at my reflection. I love them! Slightly puffy, completely kissable lips. Gone is my darkness.

  My albatrosses are gone at last. As I sat in the doctor’s chair, my mind replayed the last three years. The sting of the needle going into my bottom lip is nothing compared to the pain of losing Reed. That and the pathetic relationship with my father. I had hoped throughout all the heartache I have endured, I would come away with his love. But he kept that locked up, like he does everything else with me. The humiliation still burns through me at his complete lack of compassion. I thought I would die with shame being dragged into a gynecologist to be put on birth control. Even when I swore I wasn’t having sex. Not to mention the constant disapproval of my clothes and that he seems to believe I loved Reed simply to mock him.

  “I refuse to be that girl anymore,” I say, nodding at my reflection.

  Grabbing my new tan, suede three-quarter-length jacket, I slip it on. My eyes scan my room as I make sure I have everything I need. I won’t be coming back. All my other bags are already on Brance’s dad’s private plane.

  “Well, I guess I’m off,” I yell, nearly skipping down the stairs.

  “We’re in here,” Lana says.

  Pushing open my dad’s study door, I’m greeted with Lana crying, holding on to my dad who is rubbing her shoulder. She pulls away and looks at me from top to bottom.

  “God, you look hot!” I look down at my outfit. I’m dressed in a tight black shirt and skintight black skinny jeans with high-heeled black boots. My tan jacket and my hair are the only lightness on me.

  “Well, black is my favorite color.” A pang of guilt slithers through me. Lana is going to be alone. My dad works all the time, and she is going to miss me. Cocking my head, I give her a half smile. “Don’t you dare make me cry, Lana! You promised.”

  She nods, but tears leak from her eyes. She snuggles closer to my dad.

  I simply stand there. Do I try to hug her with my dad’s arm around her?

  Moving my Marc Jacobs bag to my other shoulder, I glance at my father. He is genuinely comforting Lana, his large hands caressing her hair while he whispers in her ear. Brushing my blond tresses back off my shoulders, I refuse to admit that his behavior is hurting me.

  I clear my throat. “I guess I will see you both when you come visit.”

  Lana breaks away at last and launches her tall body into mine.

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” she whispers.

  “I have to.”

  Her eyes glisten with tears as she nods. “I know.”

  “Tess, can I speak with you?” My dad’s voice interrupts our moment. I almost say no, but I don’t want Lana to see that.

  “Sure.” We break apart.

  “I’m going to go to my room. I can’t stand goodbyes.” Her high heels click on the marble.

  He sighs. “You and Lana got close. She is going to miss you.”

  “What about you?” He freezes, then walks over to his desk, his hand straightening some papers.

  “What about me, Tess? I hope that you have finally grown up. That I have instilled in you some common sense.”

  I can’t help but feel tears. That’s all he can give me. I look down at my boots. I won’t ever allow him to see how his words hurt me.

  “Why the transformation?” His question surprises me enough to answer truthfully.

  “I needed to change.”

  “I hate it.”

  I snort. “I did it for me, not you.”

  He looks out his window, almost like it pains him to look at me. “Tess…” His fists clench, then unclench. “I know I haven’t been the father you wanted and that you blame me for your breakup with Reed.”

  “Well, you di—”

  He holds up his hand. “Let me finish. I may not express myself the way you want. But I did what I believe is best for you. You are my child, like it or not.”

  My eyes search his. Blue on blue, a flicker of something. A moment paces between us. Then it’s gone.

  He coughs and straightens himself. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I do control your money. So, behave the way I expect, and you will be a very rich woman.”

  I must look stunned because he pours himself a drink.

  “Do you want one?” He holds
up his glass.

  I open my mouth and close it. Is he threatening me with my inheritance again?

  “Yes.”

  He pours the brown liquor into a tumbler and hands it to me. I look down at it, the smoky, spicy aroma making my nose twitch.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  His eyes narrow. “Sure.”

  “Why did you bring me here? You and Mom have made it painfully obvious that I’m nothing but a mistake.”

  The amber liquid that I find so fascinating must do the same to him because he won’t look at me. Instead he downs it and pours himself another.

  The silence is unbearable. All I want is to get out of his presence and be free. He is never going to be what I need, much like I can’t be the daughter he wants. Reed’s turquoise eyes appear, his face so beautiful. His wild dark curls fall over his forehead. And he smiles at me with his delicious full lips. Slamming the drink, the bourbon burns and stings down my throat. I need to numb myself. The last thing I need to do is start thinking about Reed more than I do.

  “Thanks, Daddy. I’m sure everything you did you did because you love me, right?” Picking up my bag, I start for the door.

  “I liked the old you, Tess.” I stop but don’t turn around.

  “You don’t have to change to make someone like Reed Saddington love you. Trust me on that.” His voice is almost tender.

  Shaking my head, I say, “I didn’t do this for Reed, Daddy. I did it for me, for a new start.” That’s a lie, but I’m not telling him that.

  “Tess, I watched that boy claim you the day he set eyes on you. I thought it was weird then, and I think his obsession is even weirder now. Stay away from him. Let him have the Russian girl.” I stiffen at that last jab.

  He runs a hand through his perfect hair. “You can have anyone you want. With your looks, the world is yours. It would be a shame to waste it on an entitled shit.” Again, I’m speechless. I have never understood why my father hates Reed so much.

  Turning toward him, desperately needing him to answer this, I ask, “Why do you hate him so much? He’s a genius, rich, and he loved me.”

 

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