“I messed up,” I told Austin. We were in our dining table when I got home from the hospital. Somehow, the guilt and the shame pushed me to bare it all out. “Something needs to change. I NEED to change. I royally fucked up and this whole thing is my mess,” I added. He sat there and I knew he was starting to defend my actions again. “You were drugged. He manipulated you…”I stopped him. “That’s true. But what about all the other decisions I made? I decided to continue with the booze. I chose to take what he was giving me, Austin. Even if I was endangering my job, even if I was getting out of control. I chose those things. You can’t… I can’t pin this all on anybody else but me. I have a part in all this mess. A big part, actually.” He lowered his head. Maybe he’s realizing I have a point. “I trust too easily. Call it naivety or just plain stupidity, but I always choose to see the good in people. Even to my detriment.”He looked up at me. “But that’s what I like about you. You chose t
Olivia Sweat is dripping on the sides of my face but the cold wind is refreshing. It's not the best first impression to show up windswept but I have no choice. I pedal faster. I want to arrive a little bit earlier so I have time to freshen up, and prepare myself. Preparation is always the key, I've read that somewhere. Interviews are always nerve-wracking and this is no different. This morning is important to me. It can make or break my future plans. My savings are dwindling by the day. We'll be out on the streets if I don't land a job by this month. I've donned my best attire, especially for this appointment. I have exactly five semi-formal blouses and this is my favorite white top. My denim lucky pants and my sensible shoes, my loafers, are the only pair I have that have no holes. They're perfect when riding my trusted bike. I've had this bike since I was a teenager. I don't care what other people say, I still use it since it's better than walking. Besides, bikes are fairl
Olivia I rush towards the lady behind the solid marble counter at the entrance of Cane Industries. It's almost 10 am, I only have 2 minutes left. I'm not going to salvage any remaining kind of good impression if I don't arrive on time. I angle my injured side away from the receptionist, hoping she doesn't notice the dirt marks and blood on my outfit, and throw me out of the building before I reach my interviewer. I’m not exactly sure how many wounds I have at this point. Better to just hide my whole body under the marble counter. Placing the phone down, she mutters "What?" in my general direction. Not looking at my face but lips turned up in a sneer upon my disgruntled appearance. "I have an interview with Mr. Austin?" I almost didn't want to disturb her. "10th floor." She spits out, still not looking at me. I lift my left ankle, it's still tender. It might be sprained. I scurry towards the area of the lifts. Entering, I tuck my messenger bag on my side. Wipe my sweaty palm
Austin Cane She scrambled after me. I stepped aside so she could enter the lift. I looked up at the mirror on the side of the wall to observe the new hire. The girl is nervous. She's fidgeting with the corner of her top. "Stop squirming so much. You weren't this shy yesterday." She nods in acquiescence. Takes a deep breath and lifts up her chin. As if an automatic switch has been flipped, she straightens her posture right before my eyes. Her wavy dark hair sways down to her hip. She clutches her small notebook. I exit the lift before I notice more things about the new girl. "This side is Cane Constructions Inc. I'm expecting you to know this already since you've had an orientation regarding the companies under Cane Industries." I don't wait for a response. Entering the HR department and going straight to the manager's room, I level the woman seated at her desk with a look. "Evelyn." "Yes Mr. Cane, sir?" The HR head looks up from her laptop. Startled at my sudden appearance. E
I am mortified. It wasn't enough that Mr. Cane saw my decaying neighborhood and dilapidated house, but I think he also caught a glimpse of Augustus being his lovely self. Why did he even drive me home? Why did he insist on it even when I said no? It's just so damn annoying. Jumping off a moving vehicle is not fun at all. Yes, I'm certainly ashamed of where I live. Who wouldn't be? We aren't homeless, but Centennial and the surrounding area are something else. I don't even want to consider that he saw Augustus. Just, no. I lean on the dirty window of the bus. The muggy air wafts through my nose, public transportation from the poorest part of Portland isn't the best. Clutching my bag closer and tucking it to my side, I see that I'm near downtown. It takes me 2 buses to get to work and a long ride if it's on my bike. Unfortunately, I need to cough up the extra dollars just for these bus rides. It's so mortifying to get a ride from Mr. Cane but he isn't aware of how that helps with
Austin "No, I had no idea." I grit my teeth. "Yes, it's over." I hang up, no longer wanting to hear the disappointment in my father's voice one more second. My father is a man of few words. When he speaks, he chooses his words carefully. The reason it upsets me more whenever I hear that tinge of disappointment coloring his clipped voice. Luke Cane is a business tycoon. He built Cane Industries with his ingenious business acumen. Although one would argue that he had the fortune to rely on, I always counter that it takes so much more in order to stay afloat and even multiply that fortune. I stare at the files on my dark mahogany desk, Evelyn's testimony. Her confession did not shock me, I knew it the second I saw the look on her face when I stormed into her office. It's convenient that the new girl found a way to cement the evidence against her barring accounting documents. She found a credible witness, that carries more weight. Flicking my eyes towards the door, I picture her behi
Austin Nocturn Number 20. Chopin's haunting melody perfectly portrays my mood when I step into the threshold. The classical number permeates the walls of Cane Estate. Mother lounges in the parlor with a glass of what I'm assuming is her 10th cocktail for the day. She greets me with a Bourbon Old Fashioned instead of a motherly hug or kiss. It would be too much for Mrs. Cane to show affection. Even to her son. A week is not a long enough distance. "Austin dear, was that what you wore at the Trade Fair?" she said, picking the olives from her martini. Not even sparing me a glance as she questions my appearance. "Yes, mother. It was fairly casual." "Hmm," she replies. Running her hands on a throw pillow. "Meredith is stopping by." "Yes. You mentioned earlier." "Would it hurt if you would be more enthusiastic?" She finally graces me with a disparaging look. I knew it would only be a matter of time. "And would it hurt if you actually listened? As I've said, we've broken up. She cheat
“He did not even hear me out,” I mumbled to my sandwich. I can’t keep the resentment inside. After crying my eyes out, I had lunch with the girls. I tried to be quiet about it but they’ve already commented about my visibly red and swollen eyes. “Girl, what are you so snippy about over there?” Charlie inquires. It’s lunchtime and they are gossiping. As usual, everybody’s intrigued about Mr. Cane’s hissy fits. “I didn’t get the chance to defend my side. That’s what pisses me off the most. It would have been better if he didn’t just explode like that. Nothing wrong with getting the facts first, right?” I try to be objective about it. “This about the crew in Montana? We’ve already sent people over. Did he not know you helped interview some? Thanks by the way. With the whole Evelyn business, people are quite distraught,” Andrea said. She is now officially part of the group. “Yeah, anytime,” I say distractedly. Watching her fork a few pieces of the cold chicken she packed for lunch. Sing