Chapter 9 Chapter 8:
Arya:
“No shit, we are going to the summit gala tomorrow.” Wendy exclaims, her face beaming with a smile. “Oh my gosh, Arya. Do you know how important this party is to like every socialite in New York? The food, the drinks, the hot men. This is going to be like...hell, the best day of our lives tomorrow.”
I look up from my computer, putting on a bright smile, “Yeah, I guess so.”
Axel rolls his eyes, typing on his keyboard, “Party my ass, I rather be at home lounging with my cat.”
“Maybe Clara is planning on promoting us?” Wendy asks, hope filled in her voice. I don’t think Clara will ever promote us, I just think we are going to be trapped in the little cubicle with a computer that takes hours to load and cheap stale coffee in this tiny room where she jammed Wendy, Axel and I.
Sometimes, I wonder if Clara is treating us fairly, but I guess not. After the Devon Brookes’ meeting, she still hasn’t forgiven us and is even threatening to fire us. Sometimes, I want to quit and just start my own fashion brand, but I guess a few hundred dollars isn’t enough.
“This could be our chance to impress Devon Brookes.” Wendy is still saying, I stand up from my chair and walk over to the coffee machine, pouring a mug of coffee, I nod. “He’s going to be there, and his family. It could also be our chance to impress other families.”
“Well, Nicole did offer to babysit Vera tomorrow, so maybe, I can come.” I say.
Axel grunts and returns back to his screen.
“You are a grumpy bastard,” She pokes at him, “Don’t you worry, when I score myself a rich husband, you are going to be begging for my money,”
He gives her a smirk, “Ha! Good luck with that.”
She stretches out her tongue, “Watch me!”
It’s fun to listen to Wendy and Axels’ banter sometimes, but sometimes, it can be exhausting. The moment the clock strikes six, I gather my things, feeling the day’s weight lift off my shoulders, it’s time to leave work alone and go home.
Samantha already did the groceries and when I return, she’s ready to leave.
“Thank you, Mantha; I don’t know what I will do without you.” I embrace her, honestly, she deserves the best sister award of the year.
Loose waves of caramel hair frames her face and tumbles over her shoulders, Mantha is dressed in a comfortable knit sweater over leggings, she’s wearing minimal make-up, which is new because my sister never wears make-up.
“Are you going out on a date?” I ask, following her into the kitchen where I lean against the kitchen island.
“I wish.” She shoves her phone into her purse, “I am really busy at the hospital these days,”
I sigh, I have been trying to set my sister up on dates, but she doesn’t look the bit interested. She’s thirty-six and isn’t ready for men, she reminds me of Nicole, but my sister is sweet, there’s nothing sweet about Nicole. She’s strict.
“I have to go now, okay? And, I know about Devon, I threatened Emma before she told me.” I freeze in my steps, damn Emma, why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?
“Don’t worry, Mom, dad and Colin don't know. Maybe when we visit them, you can tell them in person, this is your life, Arya, I know that you will make the best decisions.” She embraces me before leaving.
“Mama.” Vera says when I step out of the kitchen, her tiny hands reach for me.
I turn towards Vera, easily swinging her in the air, she giggles, flapping her hands in the air. This is the moment that I crave, coming back after a long day from work and meeting my daughter’s bright smile. It’s the only thing that gives me strength to move on. I pat her soft hair, staring into her twinkling green eyes.
I drop her on the chair, “I am going to make apple pie for dessert, wait here.” I pass her the kiddies tablet and stumble towards the kitchen. I don’t even bother changing from today’s wear, I bring out the bowl and get to work, it’s been ages since I have baked, it’s never too late.
\----
The door rings and my whole body is covered in fucking flour, I check the time on the clock and my eyes widens in surprise, Devon is here. Seriously?
Hurriedly wiping my flour stained hand on my jeans, I run towards the door, heat scorches my face as I open the door, what is he going to think of me now?
His tall frame covers the door and I still as he stares at me, darkened emerald orbs flushing at my skin, I want to shrink and disappear but I remain there, biting my lips, I am sure I look like a freaking ghost right now because of the way he’s staring at me.
“I was baking,” I clarify, still holding the door handle.
“I can see that.” There’s a hint of amusement in his raspy voice.
“Come in.” It’s better to just let him in; standing there awkwardly will do us both no good.
His huge body passes me by and the smell of his cologne wafts through my nostrils, it’s already seven and the clouds are already beginning to darken from the view of the window. His gray shirt molds around his broad shoulders, this man will look good in anything, whether a suit or just casual clothing.
“You should go take a shower, I will stay here with Vera.” He says, gesturing at my....flour self.
“Yeah.” I cough. “Right.”
I dash towards the stairs and down to my bedroom. Stepping into the shower, I let the water flush down my skin. It's been so long since I have taken a shower without having to worry about Vera being alone. Parenting with Devon Brookes is easy enough, he’s doing everything right.
However, I am scared. What happens after all of these? What kind of separate lives do we live? I don’t want Vera to feel pressured when she grows up, alternating between living in my house and his, I guess I have to worry about that later. Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my body and just stare out the skyline window.
Anytime I just feel scared, I like to gaze out the window that provides a splendid view of New York. I get dressed in a night robe and walk downstairs but I freeze when I sight Devon.
Sleeves rolled up to the elbow, two buttons undone, hands digging into the bowl of flour, his hands moves reflexively into the bowl, folding and mashing. Vera’s on the kitchen counter happily watching him.
“What are you doing?” The shock still registers in my body as I move over to him.
He looks at me with barely a glance and returns to whatever he’s doing, “I thought you needed help. Do sit down while I finish this up.”
“You aren’t allowed to touch my stuff.” I say angrily, scooping the bowl out of his hand. I know, this isn’t the exact ideal way you speak to a billionaire, but I set boundary lines between us and I made that pretty damn clear.
He looks down at me, the gleam of light illuminating in his eyes. “I was just trying-”
“Get out.” I carry Vera into my arms, “Now, it’s best if you come back tomorrow.”
His Adam apple bobs slightly as he stares at me, there’s a gleam of hurt in his eyes but it disappears immediately. “I am sorry if I did something wrong, Arya. I had no idea that...”
I gesture towards the door, maybe some other time we will work this out, but now right now. For the past three years, I have been doing everything just right, I don’t need him appearing into my life and making changes that I don’t need.
He’s the epitome of someone I don’t need right now. Still, there’s no judgment in his eyes, just pure understanding, he walks towards the door and shuts it quietly.
I slump on the chair, massaging my forehead. I feel bad for yelling at Devon, but then again, that is the extent of our relationship, and I am trying my best not to get involved with him.
Devon Brookes is the type of man who has it all, the looks, the money and no doubt, a good kisser judging from three years ago, he’s the type of man that I need to stay away from, before I get attracted to him, which is why I have to push him away.
My daughter’s love is on the line and I will do anything to protect her.
\--
The next day,
I am obsessed with the color red, and this is like the party of every pauper’s dream. So, don’t blame me if I am dressed to kill. Applying my signature dark shade of red lipstick, and pinning my raven hair straight, letting the loose waves wash over my shoulders.
A red slinky slip dress with spaghetti straps hugs every bit of my body, high enough stilettos are strapped around my ankles, and finally my body is draped in a soft burgundy coat. From a young age, I have always loved the idea of fashion and designing, it was always why I obsess about clothes.
But, this party is going to be breath-taking, with different people from all around the world, wearing different clothes, having the best night of their lives, however Wendy and I are going to be working the party. We are going to the party in Clara's place, since she couldn’t attend.
“Whatever happens, let’s get wealthily drunk tonight, Arya.” Wendy whispers to me as we near the entrance, her auburn hair is braided into some kind of French bun, and her deep glossy lipstick makes her look like a doll, underneath her brown skin, a dark faux leather dress wraps around her body.
The moment we step in, all air whooshes out of my lungs. This place is like an ancient eighties ball except people are dressed in modern dresses, soft laughter rings from a corner, high end bars that display champagnes and wine that probably cost my rent for a year.
Perfume mixed with cologne wafts through the air, the stench of richness occupying everywhere, with the handsome sexy hunks that are here, I catch Wendy giving them side eye glances.
“What?” She laughs when she catches me looking. “If I want to start looking for a rich husband to bang, I have to start now, right?”
“Right.” I nod at her, and she disappears into the throng of people, I stay still, accessing everywhere, the dresses people are wearing are high end classics. I take my time in looking at them; the people are mostly heirs and heiresses, socialites and influencers.
This is my dream, I guess. But, my social count followers aren’t even near a thousand; maybe I am just going through a whirlwind of nothingness. Nicole is babysitting tonight; she would rather go through hell than be seen in a public event. However, Emma and I suck them right up.
“Love! Over here!” I stare straight ahead and see Aunt Natasha walk towards me; she’s holding a glass of wine and smiling brightly. Aunt Natasha is Nicole and Nicholas’ mother, the internet describes her as bright and fun person to be with, her son Nicholas inherited her personality but Nicole got her father’s cold personality.
“Aunt Natasha.” I say in return, as she hugs me, she smells of powder and expensive cologne, she grabs my palm.
“You look lovely as usual, darling. Where is your date?” She furrows her brows at me, Aunt Natasha has been trying to pair me up with her son, Nicholas, however I keep explaining to her that we are best-friends, and we as friends, don’t date.
“With Vera and all, I am not that ready to date.” I blame Emma for signing me up on those Tinder websites.
“Alright, darling, come visit Alec and I sometimes.” Her tone softens when she mentions her husband, “And, bring Vera with you.”
I watch as Aunt Natasha strides away, the hairs on my back starts to raise, everybody’s eyes on me, staring and looking intently. It’s one thing for everybody in a whole room to be staring at you and another to be the center of attraction.
Do I have something on my face or what? Or...wait...Did I mess up my make-up? Damn.
Emily in her moment of glory walks over to me, she’s Nicole and Nicholas’ sister, a little like cousins, but she lives in their house.
“Emily.” I whisper, dragging her wrist. “Why is everyone staring?”
“You might want to check your phone, Arya. There’s news that you should see.”
My phone? I furrow my brows; I haven’t checked my phone this morning at all. Pulling it out of my purse, I stare at the headline that lights up the screen.
It reads: ‘Something new? Devon Brookes spotted with a mysterious non-celebrity woman, who is she? And, how close is she to Devon Brookes?’
I stare at the picture underneath, it’s of me and Devon, the day I went grocery shopping and we were walking together. Oh fucking no. Someone must have got us on camera, my hands start to tremble, I can’t even look up at anybody right now. What was I expecting? Devon Brookes is a fucking billionaire; of course his private life is being monitored.
I feel a light tug on my wrist and I look up to stare at Devon’s darkened green eyes.
Why in the hell is he holding my hand?
“Hello, babe.” I freeze the moment the words leave his mouth, what in the fucking hell?
One hand snakes around my waist and he pulls me closer, a short steady gasp emits out of my mouth. He doesn’t pull away, his strong male aura is blocking my thoughts from forming.
He leans in, before capturing my mouth with his.