Jane!” Esmeralda shrieked so loudly that Jane winced beneath the warmth of her old blanket. “Jane!” Another loud yell was followed by stomping up the creaky wood stairs.
The wool blanket was jerked away and tossed onto the floor.
Esmeralda towered over the bed, arms crossed. “It’s seven.”
“I know,” Jane said in a small voice. “It’s also Tuesday. You go into work at nine on Tuesdays.”
Esmeralda’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “But I still need to eat, and Essence wants to get in early, so hurry the hell up. God, I don’t know why we put up with you.”
They’d been fighting with Jane ever since Monday night, when she had gotten into it again with them about staying out late and spending money that they didn’t have. It didn’t help that Esmeralda didn’t get the promotion she’d thought she was up for, which meant no pay raise. Essence had said as much when she got home last night. Her face was pale when she’d mentioned that Esmeralda had been counting on the money.
Jane didn’t want to know.
Didn’t ask.
Because she had a sinking feeling her sister had done something stupid. And they couldn’t afford to bail her out again.
Jane waited until the door slammed after her sister then allowed the tears to fall freely. She’d been having the best dream.
About Brock.
Because naturally a man that good-looking just had to invade her dreams, as well as every time she thought about shoes, or dark hair, or men with kind smiles. He’d been so nice.
So. Nice.
Typically, she just cleaned offices, moving through the day while people passed her by, not giving the cleaning lady a second glance. She was okay with that; she’d always been okay with that.
Until now.
Until someone…had stopped.
Until someone beautiful…had smiled.
Gah!
She pounded her fists into the mattress as her name was screamed up into the rafters yet again, this time by Essence.
She grabbed her sweatshirt like she did every other day, threw it over her head, and slowly ambled down the stairs.
Both girls were seated in their spots at the table, and Jane got a sudden vision of her future.
She’d be eighty and still cleaning up their messes.
In the same ratty sweatshirt.
In the same sad pathetic flip-flops.
Frowning, she grabbed one of the skillets and tossed in some bacon. She’d promised her father, but what if, by keeping her promise…she lost her soul? Her will to live?
“Damn.” Essence let out a long whistle. “I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.”
“Let me see!” Esmerelda snatched the paper from Essence’s hands. “Please. He didn’t even look at you the other night.”
“He would have,” Essence grumbled, “if Jane hadn’t fallen and caused such a commotion.”
“I wish we had the money to bid on him,” Esmeralda whined, and then both girls fell silent.
Prickles of awareness shivered down Jane’s spine.
“Jane, dear?” Essence said first. “Didn’t Daddy leave you some money?”
“No,” she said quickly, irritated by the knowledge that if she had an inheritance they’d expect her to fork it over just so they could bid on chance to marry a millionaire. She didn’t have to turn around and read the newspaper to know they were talking about Brock. She’d looked him up after the party.
He was rich.
But it wasn’t just that he was loaded—he was famous.
Famous for being brilliant.
Famous for being nice.
Famous for being a terror in the boardroom, which he clearly made up for by doing good deeds during the holiday season.
He spent every Christmas at the freaking homeless shelter serving turkey dinners. He was an actual saint.
So should it surprise her that he’d bought her shoes?
No.
He’d do it for anyone.
She was nobody special.
And a few hundred dollars for shoes? Meant nothing to a man like him—meanwhile meaning the world to her.
“Jane?” Essence wrapped her arms around Jane’s waist then pressed her head against her shoulder the way she had when they were younger. “Come on, we just want a little bit. It says in the article that any girl that bids over two hundred grand automatically makes it to the ball.”
Jane shrugged away from her grasp and choked out a laugh. “Two hundred grand? Are you serious? Do you think I would still be a cleaning lady if I had that much money?”
Essence shrugged. “Who knows? You were always Daddy’s favorite. Hell, he probably gave you more than that, and you’re just too selfish to share it with us.”
Esmeralda tensed, looking between both of them, and then a slow nod from Essence had her jumping right in. “You always were selfish—first with Daddy’s love and now with whatever he left us. Figures you would keep it all to yourself.”
With a sigh, Jane plopped the bacon onto a plate and placed her hands on her hips. “If I had money, you guys would know about it. All I have is the business, and I highly doubt it’s worth more than a hundred grand, if that.” She frowned. “What’s this really about?”
The girls both fell silent and then they shared another one of the looks they were famous for. One where Jane was left out.
It was awkward. Tense.
Finally Esmeralda stood. “I should go to work. Thanks for breakfast.” She glared down at the bacon then purposefully walked by it, her heels clicking on the floor.
“Wait!” Jane called after her. “Are you wearing my shoes?” She pointed to the new shoes on Esmeralda’s feet. The exact ones that Brock had bought her two nights ago.
Essence breezed past them. “Let’s go!”
”Esmerelda!” Jane yelled after her sister, but her only response was the slam of the front door. Typical.
And typically infuriating.
It hadn’t always been this bad.
Jane remembered times when they’d watch movies together, do each other’s hair. But that hadn’t happened in years.
What had happened to her family? And why did it seem she was the only one who cared?
Her phone burned in her pocket.
Three weeks away from her sisters.
Three weeks away from this.
Enough money to fix the van.
And a much needed break from whatever her sisters were conspiring to do.
She pulled her phone from her back pocket.
“Hello?” The old man answered on the first ring.
“I’ll do it.” The words rushed out before she could stop them.
“Wonderful decision, my dear. How soon can you make arrangements?”
Jane smiled. “Give me a day.”