“Go away,” she said at last, her voice inflective. “I don’t like it when you look at me.”
Once upon a time I’d have obeyed her. Not doing so would invoke a tantrum involving screamed insults and sometimes thrown objects. I considered simply walking away since it wasn’tworth provoking her. However, my new found courage didn’t want to be shut away again. Not yet.
“Why don’t you like me to look at you?” I asked. “Are you afraid of what I might see?”
“Of course not,” she snapped, impatient. “I just don’t want to see your stupid face.”
“Maybe I’m not as dumb as you think I am,” I said slowly. “You’ve made me hate myself since I was little. I’m twenty-four years old. Perhaps it’s time I stopped listening to you.”
Her upper lip curled although she still refused to look at me. “You’ll be stupid and ugly until the day you die.”
I recalled Alaric yelling at me, calling me stupid, and wondered if perhaps they were both right, after all. Willow’s pep talk was meant to avoid the annoying need to find another receptionist. What I thought was my courage deflated and folded like a boy scout pup tent.
“Whatever,” I muttered, feeling sick inside. “I’ll be gone in a few days, and you’ll never see me again.”
“It can’t happen too soon.”
Defeated, I walked into the sterile and soulless kitchen to grab a bottle from the refrigerator. As I passed Roxanne, heading for the stairs, she shrieked, “That’s my booze. Put it back.”
I didn’t obey her. Instead, I flipped her my middle finger. She screamed as though she’d just seen a fat, wooly spider crawl up her perfectly fitting pants.
Ignoring her tantrum, I went up the stairs to my room. I wished this place was my sanctuary, but it felt more like a trap I couldn’t escape from. Decorated in Rozanne’s expensive tastes, it held little of my personality. Only a few pictures of my parents and a few of my books were mine. Everything else reflected my sister’s need for bright colors and frills.
I never liked frilly things.
As I changed out of my skirt and blazer, kicked off my shoes, I heard Rozanne’s Mercedes roar. Looking out the window, I saw her drive away at a speed not recommended for the neighborhood. Roxanne in a snit. I shrugged, and donned comfortable leggings and a t-shirt.
I settled into my room’s recliner with a book and the vodka I drank straight from the bottle’s neck. This seemed to be the perfect time to get absolutely shit faced. And why not? It’s not like I’m smart enough to become the president and save the world.
Drinking straight vodka on an empty stomach was a sure fire method of becoming as drunk as a lord in a short period of time. It wasn’t long before the words in the book ran together like droplets of water running into one another.
When the front door chimed, I had come close to falling asleep. I frowned, bleary. One of Roxanne’s friends? In the time I’d lived there, she’d never had guests. What a time for one of her snooty friends to stop by for a chat.
I nearly fell out of the recliner while trying to stand. I managed to leave my room without smacking my face on the door, but navigating the stairs proved a challenge. I pondered just sitting down until the unwanted visitor wandered away.
The bell chimed again.
“Don’t get your knickers in a wad,” I grumbled crossly, rubbing my eyes in an effort to see straight.
I made it across the foyer without tripping over anything.
I swung the door open –
“What are you doing here?”
As much as Roxanne had, Alaric Desjardin looked me up and down. Unlike Roxanne, he failed to display any contempt or make any disparaging comments. Instead, he made a small attempt at a smile. It didn’t look genuine in my inebriated opinion. It seemed more like a dog’s snarl before it bit.
“Are you drunk?”
“Um.”
The question baffled me. I peered up into his cold, gray eyes, squinting when the single man on the stoop divided into two, then three. Like an under a microscope. “What?”
“I came to talk to you.” As I stood there, stumped and too drunk to comprehend him, he glanced past me. “May I come in?”
“Oh. Um, yeah.”
I opened the door wider, staggering slightly, stepping aside to permit him past me. He gazed around Roxanne’s foyer with interest while I shut the door again. Nervous, the vodka heating my blood as his intimidating presence made the sweat bloom, I wiped my palms against my leggings.
