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Chapter One
Sophia
“Caitlin, I can’t thank you enough for this,” Mom says, dancing across the kitchen in her typical just-Mom way as she brings over a plate of pancakes.
Mom is built just like me – all curves – but she seems to hold hers better as her Bohemian dress billows around her. She’s got my dark brown hair, but the stark blueness of her eyes is entirely her own, in contrast, mine are the color of mud. And if she looks too young to be the mother of a nineteen year old, it’s because she’s only thirty-seven.
Caitlin grins, looking for a brief moment just like the girl I met when we were in fifth grade. With her jet-black hair tied in a ponytail and her sharp cheekbones shaping her smile, love for my best friend whelms in my chest. She’s always looked out for me, ever since she first stood up to Markie Johnson on the playground, and this is no different.
“Miss C, you don’t need to thank me,” Caitlin says, taking the pancakes and brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Soph is the best artist I’ve ever met … no offense.”
“None taken,” Mom says, as she turns to grab my pancakes from the counter.
The kitchen in our two bedroom apartment is small, the walls always seeming closed in. I used to feel self-conscious about bringing Caitlin to our apartments, especially when I find out that her father was a billionaire.
The only reason we were even at the same school is that Solomon Sky didn’t want to coddle his daughter. He came up the hard way, and he wanted the same for his daughter.
Of course, he made allowances along the way, with private tutoring and college fees, but who wouldn’t do that for their daughter?
Mom slides my plate across to me. I grab the syrup and apply it liberally, the sweet scent of the pancakes mixing with the syrup making my mouth water.
Mom pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the counter, leaning over her own plate.
The early spring sunlight shafts in through the rain dappled window, causing the light to dance and distort.
I fight the urge to run and get my sketchpad. Trying to capture the way the light filters through that window has been a constant, never-ending challenge for me.
“An internship at one of the biggest marketing agencies in the world,” Mom says, a thrill in her voice. “I always knew you were going to make it, Sophia. I always knew you’d do better than me. You’re so much more than just a waitress. You’re an … inspiration.”
I reach across the counter and give her shoulder a squeeze.
“Mom, you’re not just a waitress. You’re just as talented as me.”
“Maybe I’m just as talented,” she allows. “But you’ve got a work ethic I could never dream of. I’m too scatterbrained. Maybe that’s what you get for having a baby at eighteen. But don’t think I regret it. I don’t, not even for a second.”
I laugh, shaking my head.
“Any reason for the emotional outburst this morning, Mom?” I ask.
“Why shouldn’t I be emotional, huh?” she grins. “My little girl is going to work for Solomon Sky. That’s a big deal. Hey, if I walked on that side of the road, I might even comment on how handsome he is.”
“Ew, Miss C,” Caitlin laughs. “That’s my dad, remember.”
“Oh, don’t worry honey,” Mom giggles, waving a hand. “He’s in no danger from me.”
My stomach swirls as we veer close to that topic of conversation.
Solomon has spent most of his time in England for the past three years. The last time I had dinner with him and Caitlin was when I was sixteen years old, and he spent most of the meal looking through me.
And why wouldn’t he?
I was sixteen, a child.
But I’m nineteen now. A woman.
Crazy thoughts rise and swirl through me when I picture his silver, swept hair, his stark and bright green eyes. I think of the way his gray suit hugged onto his arms at dinner as if his muscles were going to explode from the fabric each time he handled his cutlery.
I battle those thoughts down, blotting them with a mouthful of pancake.
Caitlin didn’t get me this internship so that I could drool over her dad.
I have a chance to make a name for myself in the world of graphic design. I have a chance to put my art to use, to make a living from it.
If I work hard enough, I could make enough money so Mom doesn’t have to bust her ass as a waitress anymore.
“Soph?” Caitlin says, tilting her head at me with her characteristic smirk on her face.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “I was off in the clouds.”
She smiles. “That’s understandable. It’s a big day. I just said don’t let my dad intimidate you. He’s got this boots-on-the-ground ethos when it comes to his business. Even though he has thousands of employees, he thinks it’s his responsibility to meet every single one.”
