Page 2 of Daddy's Rich Enemy


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What? Wasn’t that some horrible Kate Moss quote? I’ve always thought Kate looked ghastly, like she was strung out on heroin and starving to boot. But if I say anything, it’ll only land me in more hot water. So I bite my lip and nod. “I know,” I murmur, looking at my plate.

“I’m not sure about that,” Mom says airily. As my cheeks burn with humiliation, I scoop a little yogurt up and take a bite. My nose wrinkles instantly at the sour taste – I’ve always hated yogurt. But I force myself to swallow and smile, as if I’m enjoying the meal.

“Allie,” Dad says. “How are you feeling about your interview?”

I swallow quickly and turn to face him. “Good, I guess. I think I can do it.”

“You think?”

“I know I can,” I promise. “I know this is really important to you.”

Dad eyes me over the rims of his glasses and narrows his eyes. “It’s important to our family,” he says. “Don’t mess this up, Allie.”

“I won’t,” I say quickly. “You can trust me, Dad. I’ve been preparing for weeks.”

Dad gets to his feet and nods. “Good,” he says. “You can tell me all about it later.”

A smile stretches across my face as Dad walks out of the room. I can’t remember the last time I spent much time with my father, but if I get this internship I have a feeling things will change for the better between us. Because I’ve always dreamed of being close to my parents, especially my father. I’ve never wanted anything other than to make him proud, and now is finally my chance to step up and be worthy of my own family.

“Allie, I’m going,” Mom announces. She stands from the table and purses her lips. “I have a meeting with the Met board.”

“I should go, too,” I say as I check the face of my new watch. “I don’t want to be late.”

But Mom has already left the room, a heady cloud of jasmine perfume trailing in her wake. Her plate is still almost full – the waffle looks untouched, and my stomach rumbles at the sight.

I shake my head and force myself to leave the room as my stomach growls. If I’m going to make Mom and Dad happy, I need to start being a good daughter. And if being a good daughter means eating gross diet food, well then I guess I’m going to have to develop a taste for yogurt.

Nick, our driver, is waiting for me in the garage. He smiles politely and opens the backseat of a Town Car for me.

“Here you go, Miss Allie,” Nick says. “There’s fresh spring water for you.”

“Thank you,” I say as I climb into the back of the car. Nick shuts the door and I fasten my seatbelt and shift my butt awkwardly on the smooth leather seat. I’m slowly getting used to these trappings of wealth, but between Yvonne, Nick, and our other staff, I know it’s going to take a long time before it feels natural.

Nick drives into the city with cautious speed, expertly weaving the Town Car through the thick Manhattan traffic. The minutes tick by on the smooth face of my watch and I press my face to the glass of the window. I love New York City, but it always frightens me to be here on my own. The tall buildings are so intimidating, and everyone seems to know where they’re going. The people are on a mission, while most days, I feel a little lost to say the least.

“We’re here, Miss Allie,” Nick’s kind words interrupt my thoughts. “Would you like me to circle the building while you’re inside?”

I shake my head quickly. “No, thank you,” I say. “Just pull into the garage and I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

Nick nods. “Very well,” he says. He pulls the Town Car into a fire lane and hops out to open my door. As always, I’m self-conscious to be seen emerging from the back of a posh car, but thankfully no one here notices.

Squaring my shoulders, I walk into the lobby of the Lockdown building. The lobby alone is enough to take my breath away. The walls are creamy pink marble, threaded with grey and gold, and the floor is an elegant black tile that reminds me of obsidian. But scariest of all, it’s packed with wealthy people. No middle America brands for the women around me – they’re all clad in Gucci and Hermes. The men are wearing gorgeously cut suits that must cost into the four figures.

But it’s okay because I don’t dream about money or the high life. In fact, this internship is going to be unpaid. I care because these are the people that my family wants to be. It’s the weird thing about being newly rich – both my mom and my dad are absolutely obsessed with looking like old money, even if we’re new. It’s a little appalling, but if I’m going to fit in with my parents, I need to become one of these shiny happy rich people.

Or at least figure out how to pretend to be like them.

I walk up to the large lobby desk. A perfectly-coiffed blonde glances up and raises an eyebrow when she sees me.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Allie Carter. I have an interview with Lockdown for an internship?”

The blonde nods. “Yes of course,” she says. “When is it?”

“Today,” I say.

She blinks at me, just waiting. “At ten-thirty,” I say in a rush. God, this has gotten off to a bad start already.

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