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I owe you, I message him when I walk into my office, then sit back in my desk chair.
Camilla buzzes my desk phone, and I click the speaker button. “What’s up?” I ask, closing my eyes and leaning my head back.
“I’m ordering breakfast,” she says. “Would you like your usual?”
I sigh. “Sounds great.”
Maybe it’s the weather, or maybe it’s the post-meeting anxiety, but my skin grows hot, so I remove my blazer and drape it over the back of my chair. Then, I stand up to pace, my leather shoes smooth against the marble floor, like they were made for each other.
I glance at the door, tempted to just run away. Heirs do that all the time. They break, they disappear, and then they come back after a stint in rehab. The latter doesn’t sound appealing to me, mostly because I’d need to become intoxicated to go to rehab. I’ve always been uncomfortable around any sort of substance, as the idea of losing myself sounds just awful.
When Camilla arrives with breakfast at nine on the dot, I thank her. She grew up in Miami, and, unlike me, she wasn’t raised in a bubble. Therefore, she knows the best place for breakfast burritos, and the salsa is just spicy enough to make my face flush.
Before she exits the room, I say, “Camilla, can I ask for a favor?” If anyone can wrangle my meetings for the week, it’s her. She’s always found ways to optimize my schedule, and I’m not sure I have the energy for it all this week.
She turns, clenching her hands into fists at her sides. Maybe I could force her to take a paid vacation? She hasn’t been off for more than a few hours since my parents’ accident, and it’s clearly weighing on her. I could send her to one of the resorts and call it a business trip. The idea of it sparks something in me. “Of course, Mr. Preston,” she says.
“James,” I correct her, not for the first time. She’s two years older than me, and I make a mental note to give her a raise just for that fact. It must be tough having a superior who’s so young and inexperienced, especially considering she worked for my parents, the best in the business. “I believe that I need to inspect one of our resorts. Make sure things are running smoothly, but, more importantly, I need to understand the business. The way my parents would have wanted.”
She gives a tight smile. She was my mother’s assistant long before she became mine, and she always seems happy to hear me talking about my parents. Even though the image of them sends a rock deep into my gut, weighing me down, I have to admit that I like talking about them.
“Which resort?” she asks. “I will make sure they have your accommodations ready for you.”
Although this will be an official trip for business, I don’t want to stray too far from Miami. As appealing as it would be to escape to the Maldives for a month or two, it wouldn’t be the responsible thing. I’m supposed to prove to the board that I’m responsible.
“Key West,” I say.
Chapter Two
Alexis
The roof is leaking again. Despite another call to the apartment’s management, there’s still a steady drip from the upper corner of my ceiling. A ring of brown surrounds it and dribbles down the wall, and I’m almost certain that, although it’stheirfault, I’ll lose my deposit on this place.
It’s pitch black out as a heavy rain drops in sheets from the sky that was sunny just an hour ago, and I lie back on my creaky twin mattress that I got at a steep discount when I moved in. My long blonde hair is loose around me, my scalp sore from the tight ponytail I wear when I’m waitressing at the Michelin-starred restaurant where I barely make enough to afford this terrible place.
The air conditioning went out last week, so I spread out on the bed in my tank top and sleep shorts, no blanket covering my thin layer of sweat. Because of the rain, I can’t even open the one window for some sort of air flow, so I’ll just be stuck in this heat until morning.
A text lights up my phone, and I open it to find a message from my mom a timezone away. Still, it’s late in Western Tennessee, and the message is a surprise.
I hope everything is okay! Do you need anything at all?
I bite my lip to keep myself from sighing. I know my mom doesn’t believe I can live on my own in the expensive Florida Keys, but I am determined to prove her wrong. I have a decent savings, almost enough to put down a deposit on a nicer apartment. Maybe then I can let her visit and see how well I’m really doing. It would be a lie, but I can’t bear the idea of breaking my mom’s heart.
A drop of water splashes in the half-full mop bucket I put on the floor the week I moved in. I have to empty it far too often, but it’s better than having a wet floor.
Nope! Just got off work, having dinner with my friends!I lie in response, adding a photo of a beachside restaurant that I know is open late. I hate lying to her, but I can’t admit the truth. I’m miserable here. Even though I live in paradise, I’m struggling to survive. My bike was stolen from the grocery store last week, so I have to walk to and from work five miles away.
It’s fine, though. Everything is fine. At least, it will be. If I don’t tell myself that things will get better, I might flee this place and never come back, proving to everyone in my small town what they were already thinking. There’s no escape from Portstown, Tennessee.
I drift off, my body hot and my stomach grumbling.
***
When I wake up, the stain on the wall has gotten worse, but at least it isn’t raining anymore. It doesn’t usually rain for long in Florida, which is a relief to me and my ceiling.
I put on my ratty sneakers, thankful once again for the employee locker room at the resort. If I couldn’t shower before my shifts, I would be fired pretty much immediately. The sun beats down on my skin, and I lock my door behind me, although wiggling it hard enough will open it anyway. I tried installing a deadbolt, but it merely split the thin layer of wood and part of the styrofoam spacer.
I’m working a double shift today, and, despite the early hour, the sun beats down on my shoulders.
