Chapter 1

Missy

I didn’t remember what time I had poured myself into bed, but by the time I was able to pry my eyes open I knew for a fact I hadn’t had enough sleep. The light pierced my eyes sharper than a razor can nick skin, and I couldn’t help but protest. “Turn off the light,” I moaned and pulled the blanket up over my head.

“I haven’t even got around to turning on the light,” a voice barked, the voice that could only be my tight-assed dad.

Good God, what is it now? “Please,” I hissed before I rolled over, searching with both hands for a pillow to smother myself with. “I haven’t been asleep that long.”

“Are you kidding?” He threw the light switch on and it's like we went from my bedroom to the surface of the sun in a nanosecond. I was blinded.

“It’s nine o’clock in the morning, Missy! I’m sick and tired of you spending all day in bed so you can live it up at night!”

Mom piped up, of course. “We heard from Mrs. Watts from the shoe boutique in the mall. She told us she had to fire you for coming in late every day you were scheduled.” She would have to add her two cents.

There was nothing good going to come from them both being in my room and poised to attack. I found a pillow and saved myself by burrowing my face into it. “I’m twenty-one,” I managed to shout at them. “Let me enjoy my twenties! Stop trying to rein me in and force me into the daily grind. It's not like we’re not rich!”

One of them snatched the pillow from my hands and I turned to see the scrunched-up face of my dad glaring at me. “This isn’t about money, Missy! You’ve been out of school for long enough. You have had enough time to experiment and enjoy life. Now you’re going to grow up like everyone else and get a job.” His face had turned red as he berated me, and I couldn’t help but wince as his voice had gotten a little too loud.

“You’ve had no responsibilities long enough.” Mom was at the other end of my bed, her arms folded and her expression stern. “If you can’t hold this job for longer than three months, we’ve decided you’re going to have to learn how to grow up the hard way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I was awake enough now to sit up and glare at her. I hadn’t bothered to take off my clothes and the dress I had worn the night before hung low and I could see her eyes widen in surprise.

Normally I didn’t dress like this around my parents. I tugged on the bodice so it didn’t show as much cleavage. I wasn’t as distracted and her words started to filter in. “What do you mean ‘this job?’”

Dad was still seething. I could see the outrage on his face when he saw how much my dress showed off. “You went out in that?”

Honestly, I don’t know why he cared. He wasn’t home for dinner and he wasn’t home when I left to give me a lecture about dressing ‘appropriately.’

“Never mind,” he said. He clenched his eyes closed and went as far as pinching the bridge of his nose. “I pulled some strings with a friend of mine. You start tomorrow and you have to be at Hollister Aviation at eight am.”

His tone told me there was no room for argument. That didn’t stop me from trying. I started to open my mouth to object, but he cut me off. Rudely. “If I get one call about you being late, I will kick you out and cut you off faster than you can say ‘Gucci.’” He snorted, looking damn near rabid. “Are we clear?”

I was shocked that they had the nerve to try something like this.

“Crystal,” I croaked. I tried not to cry. If I’d had more sleep I probably would have been able to think and I could have come up with something to get me out of this.

They left me to stew in the information that had rudely been thrust on me. I wanted to cry; I wanted to scream. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of being able to hear me do either. There was only one thing I could do: give into the exhaustion, the overload and pass right out.

The next time I woke up it was to the chime of my phone. A wake-up call in the form of a text thanks to the evil slave driver of a father? I rolled over and felt along my nightstand until I found my phone. It's like the thought of Dad that woke me up and brought me to the verge of tears. Then I saw who the text was from, Jenna. My better half. I didn’t even bother to read her text, I pressed the little phone icon and waited until my friend answered.

“Are you as excited about tonight as I am?” Her voice sounded too peppy.

“I can’t,” I sniffled into her ear.

“What?” There was something about her voice that made me cave.

The upset, the tears immediately boiled into a rage at the injustice I felt. “They are making me get a fucking job,” I bit out in a rush. “I have to work tomorrow,” I ended in a whine.

“Didn’t you have a job already? At the shoe store?” She sounded confused.

“I got fired,” I admitted. “Two weeks ago.”

“And you’ve been riding on the last paycheck this long?” She sounded amazed. “Skills.”

It didn’t keep me from growling at her. “You’re missing the point,” I shouted at her. “I can’t go out partying tonight. I have to start this job tomorrow. Meaning I must get up early tomorrow or else I’m out. They threatened to cut me off altogether.”

Her voice went low. “Wow, that’s harsh.”

“I know.” I couldn’t help but whine again. “What am I going to do?”

“Hey,” she chirped. As the good friend that she is, Jenna immediately saw the bright side. “Look at it like this. You need a job to pay for your lifestyle so you don’t have to scrimp like you have been. Plus, you don’t have to give up partying! That’s what professional people do on the weekends, they party.” Her excitement was a distraction and I couldn't stop listening. “You might like the place. It won’t have that crabby Mrs. Watts hounding you.”

“No,” I grumped. “But there might be someone else.”

“Bright side, baby,” she hummed in my ear. “It’ll be okay, I promise. When we go out on Friday I’ll be sure to buy the drinks.” This was why Jenna was my friend.

I started preparing for my first day at work, not knowing at all what I would be doing. I couldn’t help the nervous feeling. I was excited, too, because Jenna had managed to ignite that feeling in me. I just hoped that it would follow me into the morning.

I was bound and determined to do this, mostly because I didn’t have a choice. I got up early enough to make sure I was dressed to the nines; I was going to make a good impression on my new boss. I also made a point to be early, a first for me. It turned out that Dad had me set up in an office building not far from the airport. The company was called Hollister Aviation and that excitement drained into fear. I had no idea what I was doing. Fortunately, the lady at the front desk was expecting me. I was taken up to the top floor of the squat office building.

“Who am I working for?” I asked the well put together woman who had brought me up here.

“You’ll be working with Mrs. Todd for Mr. Hollister.” She gestured to an older woman who stood behind a desk as we approached. She smiled at me and said, “This is Missy Hamilton.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Mrs. Todd mirrored the smile before coming to show me to my desk. “Let’s get started. We’ve not got a lot of work today but we still have plenty to do.”

That excitement I felt, the fear, quickly dwindled into boredom. This was worse than study hall. I couldn’t help but start using the computer to scroll through social media. When that no longer entertained me, I got my phone out and started sending complaints to Jenna. She hyped this up to the point of becoming obnoxious.

A throat cleared, but I figured I was being quiet so I wasn’t bothering anyone. The throat cleared again and I finally looked up. Mrs. Todd was standing over my desk and glaring at me.

What did she want? “Can I help you?”

“There’s a time and a place for this,” she said sternly, a mirror of Mom’s disapproving attitude. “And now is not it.”

“This is boring.” I gestured towards the computer. “And easy. You can’t expect me to just sit here quietly and do nothing once I’m done.”

“Ms. Hamilton, this is work,” she started to argue.

“It is work,” another voice joined in. A dark-haired man stood in the doorway of the office. He had a newspaper under one arm and a cup of coffee in the other. “Are you saying she isn’t working on her first day?”

Mrs. Todd turned to gesture to the computer screen, showing off my newsfeed like it was something to be ashamed of. “She’s on her phone and on Facebook.”

“I don’t know what she’s getting angry about.” I stood up. “I’m multitasking! I am doing work while I’m networking.”

The man came to glance at my computer screen, his dark brows raising just a fraction. It gave me a chance to get a good look at him and damn. Was this my boss? I was distracted by the hazel eyes that finally landed on me. “While you’re networking, Ms. Hamilton, do make sure you get more work done.”

He didn’t sound angry, but I couldn’t help but nod dumbly.