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My teeth clench together as she keeps talking in a condescending tone of voice.
"Nick needs someone by his side that knows how to represent herself. So do yourself and Nick a favor. Let him find a woman that fits into his lifestyle. You need to find yourself another man. Nick doesn't need the hassle of you and that bastard child of yours."
Her words cut me like a knife, drilling into my skin, ripping it open, and causing a gaping wound. But when she calls Charlotte a bastard child, my mother's instinct kicks in. I step towards her and point my finger at her while the words come flowing out.
"How dare you have the audacity to bring a child you don't know into this mess? This is between you and me and nobody else. So if you mention my girl one more time, you can kiss your modeling career goodbye. Because I will punch that face of yours so hard, no plastic surgeon will be able to fix it."
Cindy only narrows her eyes at me as the other women in the room gasp for air. But I'm not finished giving her another piece of my mind.
"You think you are everything men want? Let me give you a wake-up call, missy. You are a bitch with a capital B. Nick said that the shell of skin and outfits you're wearing is amazing, but everything inside of you, including your personality, is rotten, and he's right." Cindy's nostrils flare with anger as I continue. "And remember, when your looks fade, and they will, nobody will want you, and you will end up alone." I lower my hand and dust off my shirt before turning and making eye contact with the other women. "Nice to meet you, girls. Enjoy the cake."
I spin on my heels and walk out of the room, adrenaline rushing through my veins as I make my way through the long hallway. I open the door and make my way to my car, and as if the devil is on my heels, I start it and drive away.
Minutes later, I stop the car at a parking place as I notice my hands are shaking, and tears fall.Cindy's mean and hurtful words echo through my head, and I know I have to talk to someone. After a quick search, I find my cellphone. With trembling fingers, I hold it to my ear. "Please pick up…”
"This is the voicemail of Bella. I'm painting, so I'm not answering any calls. Try it again later."
I hang up and let out a sad sigh. I could go to her studio, but I don't want to bother her when she's working. For a moment, I stare at the raindrops splashing on the screen, overthinking what to do. Then it hits me, and I drive off.
A bit later, a little bell announces my arrival as I enter the woman's clothing store, Venus, where Alisha works. My head is still a mess when Amanda appears.
"Hey, Emma? What brings you here?"
Her friendly voice hits me so hard after the shit Cindy threw at me that my lips tremble and my eyes get watery. Amanda rushes over.
"Emma? What's wrong?" she says, touching my arm.
There is such a hefty lump in my throat that my voice is nothing but a soft murmur. "Is Alisha here?"
"No, she's out picking up our new clothing."
"Oh, then I will talk to her later. Thank you."
When I try to turn, two hands grab my shoulders. "Emma, please, don't go. You can't drive in this state. Come with me."
She takes my hand and pulls me towards the back of the store. Since I'm too exhausted and emotionally wrung out by the events at Cindy's house, I let her. Amanda sits me in a chair in her office. "Wait here; I'll be right back with a glass of water."
She walks off, and as I sit, my tears drop.
Dammit, keep it together; she's Nick's sister.But no matter how hard I try to stop, the waterworks keep coming."I'm sorry," I say between my sobs when Amanda walks in, places the water on her desk, and squats in front of me—pulling me in a hug.
"Let it out,” she says. A few minutes later, the waterfall stops, and when she offers me a tissue, I blow my nose and wipe the remaining wetness from my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," I repeat, staring at my fingernails.
"Oh, please don't," she says. "I'm glad you stayed."
I nod my head, and for a moment, we say nothing.
"I don't want to pry, but can I ask you what happened?”
Biting on my bottom lip, I wonder if I should tell her or not.
"Is everything okay with Charlotte?" The thoughtfulness of Amanda thinking of my girl’s wellbeing warms my heart.
“She’s fine," I say. "She's at school."
"Please, don't tell me my brother did something that hurt you," she says with concern in her voice. "Because if he did, I'd kill him."
