Moving On

Richard watched the news from the safety of his office. His office, he mused, almost hilariously. About a year ago, he was in the beachy wonderland of Hawaii, exploring the land, flirting with natives and trying new recipes. 

 Now he was sitting in a mammoth office, stamping and signing file after file. The rain had begun a while ago and since he hated driving in the rain, he could not go home either.

 Home? Where was home? 

He had been a nomad for too long, never staying in a place long enough to develop any roots or relationships that would keep him in a place. Jacqueline had been right: he was a hopeless playboy with just enough money to back himself up. 

 He and Peter had emerged from wealthy families and the best schools but choosing to be independent, Petals was born. It was just like yesterday when he and Peter had cracked open bottles in honour of their new venture. Regina was pregnant with Jacqueline then and bitter as ever, courtesy of her erratic hormones.

When Jacqueline had been born, Peter had wanted to name her Petals but Richard had kicked against it. The little cherub had been a rebel from birth, crying at unexpected hours of the night, bugging Regina and rousing her from her much needed rest for late night meals. 

 Petals was a too mild name for her and Richard had suggested Jacqueline, after the Asian movie star, the Kung-fu crooner, Jackie Chan. He wondered if Jackie knew this though it wasn't much of a big deal.

His media advisor had been talking to him about a mandatory press conference which was to be carried out in the nearest future. Silas, the media personnel had stressed that Peter had been the visible face of Petals and now that he was gone, it was important to reassure customers of their continuous effectiveness. Many knew Richard, not as a businessman but rather as an internet sensation, famous among the gossip tabloids.

"You would not be taken seriously, sir, if you don't assure the investors of your salesman capabilities," Silas had ominously warned.

Richard was aware of this chink in his armour but honestly, he didn't want to go through the whole rigmarole of a press conference alone. He had not yet informed Jacqueline of her equal company bragging rights because he wanted her to focus on her studies instead. However, he had not heard from her for a while. He was worried but did not want to seem overly inquisitive. Jacqueline was no longer a kid; she could take care of herself.

∆ ∆ ∆ ∆

"Is this your room?!" Camille exclaimed both in delight and disgust. Jacqueline's room was the biggest in the block but it was probably the dirtiest also. Shoes peeked out from underneath her bed, her bedding littered the floor and her laundry basket was a madhouse. Camille was fighting the urge to take a brush to the place when Jacqueline snapped her fingers before her eyes.

"Hey, hey, yeah, I know, I'm a dirty slob but I didn't invite you here to clean up my room or lecture me on my failing hygiene. Let's focus on our primary assignment, please," Jacqueline reminded her new friend.

Jacqueline had gone on a limb to ask Camille for a favor. She was not comfortable exposing her entire life though but if that was what it took, she was ready to pay the price.

Camille blinded in realization of what she had almost been compelled to do.

"Yeah, I haven't forgotten. You said you wanted a change. So could you start by changing your bedding? It looks like it has seen better days."

"Leave it. Sit. We don't have much time and there is a lot to talk about." Jacqueline pulled her into a chair first before picking up her multiple trophies lying haphazardly on the floor. She had been a favorite in the sports world. She still was but the frenzy had simmered down unlike when she was in high school.

She rolled her mattress into a lumpy ball and attempted a trick shot at her laundry basket but it only caused the already full container to topple over, sending its contents every which way. Jacqueline winced and eyed Camille with a side eye. The latter sighed exasperatedly and pointed to a chair. Her host sank into the plush chair with no plans of picking up after herself.

"Oh, I see the problem now. You think you are a guy, isn't it?" Camille quirked a brow at her friend who was already rolling her eyes in exaggeration. She hated and loved Camille for the same reason: she alone could call her out on her bullshit. Ginny and Ronnie would either agree with her so as not to hinder her from spending her allowance on them. It all dawned on her now: she had been their money horse, their pawn in the spending game.

"Shit, I've been an ass!" she suddenly ejaculated and snagged up her cup of coffee. She had neither understoood nor approved her mother's preference of green tea.

"I second that. Now that you are done badmouthing yourself, maybe we could delve more into why you invited me over."

An empty coffee cup sailed across the air and landed neatly in the trash can.

"Still got it," Jacqueline murmured with a flat smile.

"You are stalling," Camille poked her finger at her to second her accusation.

"Okay, okay, here goes. So I already told you about this guy I like but..."

"I wish you would tell me who he is. No fair. I'm working with an hypothesis and an imaginary guy," Camille whined and pouted like a kid. She got another eyeroll from Jacqueline as compensation for her complaint.

"He is not imaginary and you don't need to know who he is. That's not important. I just need to move on from him since it seems like he is not the one for me. I need a make over, a flair, something that says 'New me'. I don't want to be that little girl pining after him anymore. So, any ideas? Can you help me?"

Camille rubbed at her chin and tossed ideas around in her head. She scrolled down on her IPad mobile and inspected something on it. The suspense was killing the second occupant and owner of the room.

"I think I have just the thing for you but...we gonna do it my way, no questions asked."

Jacqueline thought within herself. Am I ready to be someone else, to change my personality, to forget about....him?