Childhood Promises
1549 Words
Darin left Diane's house later that night with a smile he couldn't seem to get rid of.
The drive back to the penthouse should have been spent thinking about business.
Or money.
Or the billion-dollar inheritance that had completely changed his life.
Instead, his thoughts kept drifting back to dinner.
To Diane.
To hearing stories about his mother.
To sitting around a table with people who actually remembered him.
And to Angie.
Especially Angie.
The little girl he remembered and the young woman he met tonight were two completely different people.
When they were kids, Angie had been everywhere.
Absolutely everywhere.
If he went outside, Angie followed him.
If he rode his bike, Angie was right behind him.
If he played basketball, she wanted to play too.
If he climbed a tree, she somehow ended up in the tree before he did.
More than once he remembered complaining to his mother.
"Why is she always following me?"
Sarah would just laugh.
"Because she likes you."
At seven years old, Darin thought that was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.
Now, years later, he found himself laughing at the memory.
One particular memory returned with perfect clarity.
He had been sitting in Diane's backyard with a toy basketball.
Angie couldn't have been more than five or six.
Their mothers were on the patio drinking lemonade and talking.
Without warning Angie walked into the yard, planted her tiny hands on her hips, and announced to everyone present,
"I'm gonna marry Darin when we grow up."
Sarah nearly spit out her drink.
Diane laughed so hard she started coughing.
Young Darin looked completely horrified.
"No you're not."
"Yes I am."
"No."
"Yes."
"Who said so?"
"I did."
Then Angie grabbed his hand and started dragging him toward the swing set as if the matter had already been settled.
Neither mother ever let him forget that moment.
The memory made him shake his head.
Some things never changed.
The elevator carried him to the twentieth floor.
Moments later he stepped into the penthouse.
The massive windows overlooked Atlanta's glittering skyline.
Only a few days ago he had been sitting on a bench in Chicago wondering where he would sleep.
Now he owned a penthouse.
A company.
Properties.
Businesses.
Investments.
Enough money to change several lifetimes.
Yet somehow none of that was what occupied his thoughts.
His phone buzzed.
A text message.
He checked the screen.
Angie.
A smile immediately appeared.
You make it home?
Yeah.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Then:
Good.
Another pause.
Then:
Your text game is terrible.
Darin laughed.
You text like an old person.
A response arrived so quickly he could practically hear her voice.
Excuse me?
You text in complete sentences.
That's because I graduated high school.
Barely.
Darin laughed harder.
The conversation continued for several minutes.
Simple.
Meaningless.
Comfortable.
Something he hadn't experienced in a very long time.
Eventually he typed:
Goodnight Angie.
The response came immediately.
Goodnight future billionaire.
He shook his head.
Another message arrived.
Mom says don't forget dinner Sunday.
I won't.
Another pause.
Then one final text.
And don't disappear again.
The words hit harder than anything else she'd said all evening.
For years nobody cared where he went.
Nobody checked.
Nobody called.
Nobody looked.
But Angie cared.
Diane cared.
That realization settled heavily in his chest.
He looked at the message for several seconds before replying.
I won't.
A minute passed.
Then:
Good.
He set his phone down.
The city lights glowed beyond the glass.
For several moments he simply sat there.
Thinking.
Remembering.
Reflecting.
Somewhere during the last few days he had recovered something he thought was gone forever.
A piece of his childhood.
A piece of home.
And somehow Angie was standing right in the middle of it.
He didn't know what to make of that.
Angie seemed to have more of an effect on Darin than he wanted to admit.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Nope."
A smile slowly appeared anyway.
Maybe.
Only maybe.
The next morning arrived far earlier than he would have liked.
Ruby's office was already waiting.
As was another mountain of paperwork.
Darin walked into Ruby's office carrying folders stacked so high they nearly blocked his vision.
Ruby looked up.
Then stared.
Then laughed.
"You actually read some of it."
"My head hurts."
"Excellent."
"Why is that excellent?"
"It means you're learning."
Darin dropped into a chair.
"Learning what?"
"How rich you are."
He groaned.
"I have questions."
"I have answers."
"You own buildings."
"Yes."
"You own restaurants."
"Yes."
"You own clothing companies."
"Yes."
"You own investment firms."
"Yes."
"You own construction companies."
"Yes."
Darin pointed at her.
"This is your fault."
Ruby looked offended.
"My fault?"
"You found me."
"That sounds suspiciously like a compliment."
"It wasn't."
"It absolutely was."
Darin sighed.
Ruby grinned.
The conversation continued for nearly two hours.
Financial statements.
Trust documents.
Corporate structures.
Investment reports.
Board memberships.
Property holdings.
Darin felt his brain turning into soup.
Then his phone buzzed.
Ruby immediately noticed.
Her eyes narrowed.
Darin knew that look.
It was dangerous.
"That's not Candace."
"No."
Ruby leaned forward.
"Angie?"
Darin didn't answer.
Ruby immediately burst out laughing.
"Oh my God, it is Angie."
"Can we focus?"
"No."
"Ruby."
"No."
"Please."
"This is much more interesting."
Darin covered his face.
"You are enjoying this way too much."
"Tremendously."
She laughed for nearly thirty seconds before finally calming down.
Then she spoke.
"You know she had the biggest crush on you growing up, right?"
Darin froze.
"You knew about that?"
"Everybody knew."
"I didn't."
"You were the only one."
"I was seven."
"She was six."
"It was weird."
Ruby started laughing all over again.
"She used to tell people she was going to marry you."
"I remember."
"There were drawings."
"What?"
"There were drawings."
Darin stared in horror.
Ruby nodded.
"Several."
"Burn them."
"I'm pretty sure Diane kept them."
"Why would you tell me that?"
"Because it's funny."
After finally recovering from her laughter, Ruby slid another folder across the desk.
The familiar Bailey-Steele logo stared back at him.
His mother's company.
His future.
His responsibility.
Ruby became serious.
"This starts next week."
"The job?"
"Yes."
Darin opened the folder.
His expression changed.
Then changed again.
Then changed one more time.
"You're serious."
"Very."
He looked back down.
Administrative Assistant.
Finance Department.
Entry Level.
Bottom Floor.
Darin stared blankly.
"I'm a billionaire."
"Technically."
"My first job is administrative assistant."
"Correct."
"At my own company."
"Correct."
"This feels abusive."
Ruby smiled.
"This feels educational."
He hated how often she was right.
Sarah Steele had planned this carefully.
She didn't want him walking into an executive office and pretending to understand leadership.
She wanted him to understand work.
People.
Responsibility.
Effort.
Everybody wanted to lead.
Few people understood what it meant to serve.
"If I do this," Darin finally said, "I do it right."
Ruby nodded.
"Good."
"No shortcuts."
"Good."
"No special treatment."
"Excellent."
"I'm earning everything."
"That's what your mother wanted."
Darin looked down at the Bailey-Steele logo.
For a long moment he said nothing.
Then quietly:
"And one day the people who abandoned my mother won't see me coming."
Ruby studied him.
Something had changed.
The anger was still there.
She could see it.
But now it had direction.
Purpose.
Focus.
Discipline.
It wasn't controlling him anymore.
It was motivating him.
There was a major difference.
Later that afternoon Darin found himself walking through downtown Atlanta.
The city felt different now.
More familiar.
More welcoming.
More like home.
His phone buzzed again.
Angie.
He smiled immediately.
Working already?
Preparing to.
Nerd.
Future businessman.
Current nerd.
Darin laughed.
People walking nearby glanced toward him.
He didn't care.
Another message appeared.
You're literally seventeen.
Eighteen.
Whatever.
That's not how ages work.
Several moments passed.
Then:
It's different.
How?
Because I'm a genius.
Darin stopped walking and laughed out loud.
His answer came quickly.
Debatable.
Rude.
Accurate.
Rude and accurate can both be true.
Darin shook his head.
Somehow talking to Angie felt easy.
Too easy.
Comfortable.
Natural.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
For the first time in years, life felt normal.
Not simple.
Definitely not simple.
He still had a billion-dollar inheritance.
A hidden identity.
A company to learn.
College starting soon.
Family enemies.
A future he barely understood.
But for the first time in a very long time, he felt something else too.
Hope.
As he continued walking, he looked up at the Atlanta skyline.
Somewhere inside those buildings sat Bailey-Steele Corporation.
Somewhere inside those offices worked relatives who thought they had won.
People who had spent years trying to position themselves to take control.
People who believed Sarah Steele's son had been forgotten.
Lost.
Gone forever.
They had no idea he was standing only a few blocks away.
They had no idea he was about to walk into their company.
Not through the front door.
Not through the executive offices.
But through the bottom floor.
Learning everything.
Watching everyone.
Preparing.
One day they would know exactly who he was.
One day they would hear the name Darin Steele and understand exactly what it meant.
But not today.
Today he was just a young man walking through Atlanta with a smile on his face and a text conversation waiting on his phone.
For now, Darin Steele had work to do.
- Writer
