My Dream Lover

Chapter4

ELISE

Breakfast in the Whitmore house was never really about food. It was about my aunt Rose reminding me, one way or another, that I owed her family something I could never fully pay back.

I cracked eggs into a pan while Chloe sat at the table scrolling through her phone, not even bothering to look up.

She's my cousin, technically, though she has never once treated me like family. We are the same age, twenty three, but that is where the similarities end.

She grew up in this house with everything she ever wanted.

I grew up in a small village in Lyon, in a little house that always smelled like lavender and old wood.

My parents didn’t have much, but they loved me with everything they had.

"Careful with the yolks," Aunt Rose said from behind me, not even turning around. "You know how Walter feels about broken yolks."

I did know. Walter, my uncle by marriage, was a quiet man who mostly stayed out of trouble.

"Sit," Rose said once I put the plates down, and I felt my stomach tighten, because in this house, being told to sit at the table was never a good sign.

"Your parents borrowed a lot of money from us," she began, as if she hadn't reminded me of this exact fact a hundred times today. "One hundred and forty thousand euros, to save that vineyard of theirs.”

She took a sip from her cup and continued.

“They've barely managed to pay back a fraction of it themselves, with the little the vineyard still brings in. The rest became yours to repay, and you have been paying it back slowly, through your work here."

***

My parents had borrowed money to save our vineyard, hoping the next harvest would be better. But no, it wasn’t better.

When they could no longer keep up with the payments, they made the most difficult decision of their lives and sent me to Kingswell to live with Aunt Rose and Uncle Walter until the debt was paid.

I still remembered the night they told me I had to leave.

My mother sat beside me on the edge of my bed, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

“Why are you both crying?”

I asked, looking between her and my father.

“Elise,” Mum said. “We need to talk to you.”

“About what?” I asked with a shaky voice.

“You have to pack your bags sweetheart”, she studied my face, “tonight.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, looking at both of them.

“We are not going anywhere.” She said.

I studied her for a while. “Is it the debt again?”

“It’s worse than we told you,” Dad said.

My stomach dropped. “How much worse?”

“Worse than we can fix.” He replied.

“We’ve tried everything”, he continued, “there’s nothing left to try.”

“So what happens now?”

Neither of them answered right away. That silence scared me more than anything they could have said.

“There’s a family in England,” Dad said finally. “Your mum’s sister, Rose.”

“You’re sending me away.”

My mom hugged me tighter, and I felt her tears drop on my back.

“We don’t want to,” she whispered, looking into my eyes. “But they've offered to take you in to help with the debt, and give you the life we couldn’t afford to give you.”

“I’m sorry kid.” Dad apologized.

“You’ll come and get me, right?” I asked.

They hesitated.

“We’ll try,” mom said softly.

I shook my head, tears filling my eyes.

“No. I don’t need you to try, I need you to promise me.”

Tears dropped from my eyes. She kissed my forehead.

“We will come and get you as soon as the debt is paid. I promise you my child.” Dad assured me.

“We love you more than anything.”

I left our little house in Lyon with a small suitcase, a broken heart, and the foolish belief that my parents would come for me soon.

They never did. Then I landed in Kingswell instead of England.

***

"I know," I said quietly.

"What you don't know," Aunt Rose continued, "is that Walter's business had a bad year. So the timeline is changing.

You will need to take a second job, something in the evenings, on top of everything you already do here. Every cent of it comes to us, toward what you owe."

Chloe smirked without looking up from her phone. "Maybe you'll finally be too tired to stare out of windows all day," she said. "She does that a lot, Mom. Just stares off, like she's waiting for someone."

I didn't answer her. There was no version of the truth I could give Chloe that she wouldn't twist into something to laugh at later.

The truth was that I wasn't waiting for anyone in this world. I was only counting down the hours until I could close my eyes again and see the one person who had ever made me feel like I mattered.

Aunt Rose slid a folded piece of paper across the table. "There's a staffing agency," she said.

“They place workers at private events for wealthy families around the city. Galas, dinners, that kind of thing. The pay is good, and I've already set up an interview for you this afternoon."

I unfolded the paper with hands that had gone a little unsteady, and read the name at the top. ASHWORTH & VANE PRIVATE EVENTS STAFFING.

Extra money meant one thing to me. It meant this debt might actually shrink for once instead of just sitting there, heavy and unmoving, no matter how many hours I put into it.

I folded the paper carefully and slipped it into my apron pocket, already thinking about what I would say in the interview, already trying to imagine what it might feel like to have a job that was mine, even for one night.

"Thank you," I said, and I meant it, even though it cost me something to say those words to her.

Rose didn't answer. She simply picked up her coffee and glanced at the clock, already moving on to whatever came next in her day.

As I stood, I caught sight of Uncle Walter through the doorway. He was watching me. His eyes moved slowly over me before meeting mine. I immediately looked away.

***

I went to the interview that afternoon, in the only dress I owned that looked a little presentable compared to my other rags.

The woman who spoke to me didn’t even look up from her computer. She asked me three short questions, and told me I had the job before I'd even finished answering the third one.

“The confirmation letter, with the date, the address, and the pay details, would be mailed to your address within a few days.” She said.

“Thank you.” I said and stood up to leave.

I walked home that afternoon lighter than I had felt in a long time. I didn't tell Chloe. I didn't tell Rose more than she already knew. It felt like something that belonged only to me, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Two days passed. Then three. I checked the mail each afternoon on my way coming back from the market, moving quickly past the console table in the hallway where letters were always left, my heart lifting a little every time I saw an envelope waiting there, and falling a little every time it wasn't the one I was looking for.

On the fourth day, I came home to find the console table empty, no mail at all, which was strange to me, since the mail always came before noon.

I shrugged it off. I told myself it was probably just a slow day for the postman, and went inside before Rose could complain about my being late.

Later that night, I was walking past Chloe's half-open bedroom door on my way to bed, when something caught my attention.

I noticed the small metal wastebasket beside her desk, and the curl of blackened, burned paper sitting inside it.

My heart jumped into my stomach. I stretched my neck to peep, what I saw made my entire body shiver. I recognized the letter heading immediately. Oh no! It can’t be!