AllFreeNovel
Share Us
1
Ellie
Things will get worse before they get better.
I groan, closing the horoscope app on my phone. What in the crap kind of prediction is that? Aren’t these things supposed to be uplifting and inspiring? The Manhattan skyline comes into view out my window as the jet begins its descent through the clouds. Apprehension courses through me, and not just because of the shitty horoscope.
I hate New York and all the memories that come with it, but Ihaveto be here. My best friend demands it, and Jasmine always gets what she wants. Even if it means taking off on a Thursday just so I can fly in to attend a dinner party that she’s hosting. A party that I have no desire to be at, but my friend knows how to guilt me and mentioned that the funds raised tonight would go to a charity for underprivileged children. How can I say no to that when it’s so near to my heart?
I can’t, which is why I’m here. And my stupid horoscope isn’t helping me feel better about it.
“It’s only one day. You can do this,” I mutter to myself as I step off the plane onto the private airstrip.
A black sedan with tinted windows waits as I descend the stairs. A man wearing a black suit and sunglasses rushes forward, taking my duffel bag from my shoulder. He’s dressed like everyone who works for the Jafar family—like he’s prepared to go to a funeral. Maybemyfuneral because that’s what being here feels like.
“I’ll get the rest of your things, miss, and then we’ll be off.”
“Oh, this is it.”
His eyes widen. “There are… no more bags?”
“No. Just the one.”
My cheeks flame. He’s probably thinking the worst of me, but I learned a long time ago that you can’t control what someone says or thinks of you. So I’ll let him think I’m poor white trash from Kansas who came to visit one of the most powerful families in New York City with onlyonebag. Defending myself will only be a colossal waste of breath. That’s something I’ve learned over the years. I just smile and try not to let it bother me, even though sometimes it feels like it’s going to kill me.
“Come along. I’ll take you to the hotel first so you can freshen up. Mrs. Jafar is requesting that you be ready by six so you can spend some time together before the dinner party.”
Spend time together. Ha. More like rush around and help her solve whatever minor disaster she’s convinced is going to ruin her night. A dull headache already forms behind my eyes. For the hundredth time I wish I had told Jasmine no. The man clears his throat. Crap. He’s waiting for me to answer. I nod, following him to the car.
Once inside, I stare out the window, letting my thoughts wander. Why has Jasminereallybrought me here? It has to be something big, and I’m not foolish enough to think it’s because she wants to raise money for charity. My presence is only demanded when she has plans to use me in one way or another. She says she needs me at her side because I’m the only one who understands her, but I think it’s just a way to show the world that not only is she rich, but generous, too. The thought makes me frown. I shouldn’t feel this way about my best friend, but I do. In fact, I won’t be surprised if there’s an “appropriate” dress waiting at the hotel for me. And there will definitely be undergarments to help conceal my weight, which means I’m going to be uncomfortable all night.
Sometimes, it amazes me we’re still friends. We come from different worlds, and usually people that opposite from each other drift apart, eventually. Jasmine and I met in boarding school at the age of ten. She took me under her wing when my own stepsisters revealed I was there because of an anonymous benefactor. I was poor and they made sure everyone knew. Lord knows my father, god rest his soul, couldn’t afford to send me on his own. In the beginning, I thought it might be his new wife who was paying for me to attend the school. Her daughters attended, so it would make sense that she would want me there, too. After his sudden death, it became clear that my stepmother wasn’t the one paying. In fact, she was determined to find out who was, so she could tell them to stop. If she had it her way, I would have become nothing more than a servant. Thankfully for me, that never happened.
Jasmine has always been a good friend, but she definitely loves letting people know that I’m the one benefiting from the friendship, at least to the public eye. Any little gift she’d give me, she would make sure people knew how much it cost. Even after school, when she went off to a prestigious university and I went to a small community college, she would send gifts. Gifts I turned around and sold. I have no need for a three-thousand-dollar purse, but three thousand dollars toward school books or rent is a different story.
Our lives have always been different, and that’s fine by me. She studied law and married Malik Jafar. I didn’t know who Jafar was, but it quickly became apparent that my friend had married into the Mafia. Not just a foot soldier, though. He’s high in the ranks. Heck, he might even be at the top. Even thinking about him makes me frown. She could have done so much better, but he’s everything she’s ever wanted. Rich. Powerful. Handsome. That last thought makes my frown turn into a scowl. It would be so much easier to hate him if he was old and ugly.
I graduated from the community college with a medical assistant associate's degree. I work a modest job at a clinic running the office. The pay is shit. The hours are long. But the work I do there makes me happy enough that I stay. Jasmine thinks I should go back to school for a bachelor’s degree, and maybe I will one day, but, for now, I’m comfortable. The more important thing is that for the first time in my life, I’m not dependent on anyone for anything. Everything I own is bought and paid for with my own money, and there’s a certain comfort that comes with that. And no one in Wichita makes me feel like shit about myself.
The car comes to a stop in front of the hotel I’ll be staying at. Jasmine used to book me rooms at the most exclusive hotels in the city, which meant staying at hotels that her husband owned, but she finally listened when I told her it was too much. Mostly because her husband agreed. My cheeks warm as I remember what he said. Words I was never supposed to hear.
“That girl is stealing everything that’s not attached to the hotel, and I’m having to pay the deposit for it. Put her up at the fucking Holiday Inn or make her pay for her own room.”
He wasn’t wrong. Ididtake all the freebies in the hotel. Not because I was stealing, but because I needed them. Money is tight, and sometimes I need all the help I can get. So, yeah, I took the shampoo, and maybe I took the lightbulbs from the lamps or a towel or two from the bathroom. It wasn’t anything major, and it was things I needed. Do I think he really had to pay a deposit? No. He just doesn’t like me and has made that known since day one. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Any hopes I had of us being friends flew out the window when he made it clear that he only tolerated me because of Jasmine. Talk about an ego bruiser.
The driver opens my door, and I make my way into the hotel. It’s fancier than I would pick on my own, but Jasmine is paying, so there’s nothing I can do about it. Heck, Iwouldbe just as comfortable at Holiday Inn. The thought makes me smile. I bet Jasmine has never even seen the inside of a hotel with less than a five-star rating.
A woman acknowledges me as I approach the counter. “Hello, Ms. Perrault. We’re so pleased to have you staying with us. You’re in the penthouse suite, as Mrs. Jafar requested.”
“Oh, I don’t need a suite. A regular room is fine.”
She acts like I didn’t speak. “Right this way, and I’ll show you to your suite.”
I follow her to the elevator, where we go to the top floor. She shows me around and then leaves. The suite is beautiful, but it’s too much. I’m sure if I googled the cost, it would shock me, so I don’t. And, as I predicted, a dress bag hangs in the bathroom with a note in Jasmine’s bubbly script.
Wear this tonight.
—Jasmine
