CHAPTER 2
947 Words
As I grabbed my jacket from the kitchen, Gina caught my arm. "Avira, what's happening?"
"I'm fired." The words tasted bitter. "Apparently, I slapped the wrong rich guy."
"This is insane. You've been here for two years!"
"Yeah, well." I shrugged, trying to act like my world wasn't falling apart. "Guess that doesn't matter when you mess with the wrong family."
I walked toward the door, then stopped and turned back to Mr. Ben.
"For what it's worth," I said, meeting his eyes, "I'd do it again. No one has the right to put their hands on someone else. Not even if they own half of New York.”
I walked out the door into the cold morning air, unemployed and completely screwed.
*****
I slammed my apartment door so hard the walls shook. Hell, I was lucky they didn't c***k.
"HEATHER!" I yelled into the empty apartment, then immediately felt like an i***t. Right. Family emergency. She was probably dealing with her sick grandmother while I was here having a complete meltdown over some rich asshole.
I threw myself onto our beat-up couch and buried my face in a pillow. Everything was falling apart. No job, rent due in few weeks, and apparently I was now famous for all the wrong reasons.
My phone buzzed. The caller ID made my chest tighten: *Dorathy ❤*
Shit. My godmother had probably seen the video by now. She was going to lecture me about keeping my temper in check and…
"Hey, Dora," I answered, trying to sound normal.
"AVIRA!"
Here we go.
"I just watched you slap the living daylights out of some posh boy on the internet, and I have NEVER been more proud in my life!"
Wait. What?
"You... you're not mad?" I sat up straighter.
"Mad? Darling, I've watched it nine times already! That entitled little twerp had it coming!" Her British accent was thick with excitement. "You didn't take any nonsense from him, just like I taught you!"
Despite everything, I smiled for the first time since the incident. "You actually watched me get fired in real time."
"Oh, bollocks to that job! Nobody puts their hands on my girl and gets away with it. I don't care if he's the bloody Prince of Wales!"
"Yeah, well, turns out he might as well be." I slumped back into the cushions. "His name's Kyle Luggard. Apparently his family owns half of New York or something."
"Even better! Rich boys need to learn they can't just do whatever they want."
"Dora.., I got FIRED. I have no money, no job, and my face is probably going to be a meme by tomorrow."
"Good!"
"Good?" My voice cracked. "How is any of this good?"
"Because now you have no excuse not to come home!"
Oh no. Here we go.
"We're not doing this again," I groaned, flopping across the couch.
"Oh yes, we are! I've been begging you to come back to London for months. You've got a brilliant fashion design degree that you're doing absolutely nothing with…”
"I’m saving up for my masters you know. Trying to gain life experience!”
"…working in a coffee shop that just threw you under the bus!"
"I like New York," I protested weakly. "The coffee shop wasn't that bad..."
"Wasn't that bad? Sweetheart, you literally just told me they fired you for defending yourself! That's not exactly a glowing recommendation."
I couldn't argue with that logic. And honestly? I was tired. Tired of scraping by, tired of pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.
"Besides," Dorathy's voice took on a sneaky tone, "you can't possibly say no to me this time."
"Why not?" But I was already suspicious.
"Because my birthday is in two days, and I've already booked your flight."
"You WHAT?"
"First class, because I'm not having my goddaughter crammed into economy like a sardine. The plane leaves tomorrow evening."
My mouth fell open. "You didn't."
"Oh, I absolutely did. Check your email."
I grabbed my laptop and sure enough, there it was. A first-class ticket from JFK to Heathrow. Tomorrow night.
"Dora, you sneaky…”
"Language, darling!"
"…wonderful woman," I finished, but I was fighting back tears. Happy ones this time. "I can't believe you did this."
"Well, I wasn't going to wait around for you to stop being stubborn." Her voice got softer. "You've been struggling, love. I can hear it every time we talk, even when you try to hide it."
My throat got tight. She always could read me like a book.
"If I say yes…” I started.
"Oh, you're saying yes. The ticket's already bought."
"IF I say yes," I continued stubbornly, "do you promise not to spend the entire visit trying to set me up with 'lovely young men from the neighborhood'?"
"I make no such promises."
"Dora!"
"Fine, fine! I promise to limit the matchmaking attempts to no more than... three per day. That's the best offer I can give you.
I laughed. "You're completely impossible."
"I'm irresistible, darling. There's a difference." I could practically hear her grinning through the phone. "So, is that a yes?"
I looked around my lonely apartment. Then I thought about London. About Dora's cozy house with the garden out back. About actually using my degree for something.
About getting the hell away from Kyle Luggard and that humiliating video online.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "Yeah, it's a yes."
"Brilliant! Oh, I'm so excited! We're going to have such a wonderful time, and I've got so much planned…”
"I love you , Dora."
The line went quiet for a second. "I love you more than words, sweetheart. See you Saturday morning.
- Writer
