Rosalie Maxwell
Life gets harder as I get older and I’m getting tired of it. My family’s dream is exhausting, and a long time ago it became mine too. I run myself ragged every day, sometimes I come back and I'm too exhausted to do anything other than work and sleep, but I can't because their dream is mine. My parents used to own a general store called Maxwell’s. It’s named after our family and, when they were young, the shop did really well; but now, people buy what they need online, and the business my parents poured blood, sweat, and tears into, is failing. I don’t see us making it another year.Their medical bills are behind, along with their rent that is one month past due and the only reason our landlord is not evicting us is because he has known my parents for thirty years. If it weren’t for that, and the fact I promised to pay him before the month ends, they’d be sleeping in this store. Even right now, the electricity in my parents’ apartment is off, and I need to provide another fifty dollars to get it turned on.My eyes begin to burn with frustrated tears, and I stop moving boxes to try and catch my breath. Pressing my palms against my eyes I take a deep breath, but my emotions are too strong. I’m too damn tired. I’m so sick of caring, but I have to, I need them. I can't give up on them. I feel like I’m the only one who gives a shit about this business, too. My parents barely come to the store anymore. My mother, Mariah, only shows up when she needs money to waste on the latest gambling place that would accept her. My father prefers to come here with his friends to raid the alcohol section with his friends whenever he likes. Since I added that section, I've never come back to find the money from a complete purchase or even any bottles of alcohol left. David Maxwell is very charitable when it comes to the distribution of alcohol that I provided for his dying business.As for my brother, he is always off doing who knows what, and I’m left here, trying my damn best to make ends meet. I have to come over every day after work just to make sure everything is intact and they don't need anything. I have to make sure the lights are on, the water is running and check if there's sufficient food. I'm not sure how much longer I can do this before I break before I quit, but what kind of person would that make me if I quit on my family? I can’t do that to them even though they have done it to me. They left me with this store and now I’m stuck unless I want my family to be homeless.I no longer have the energy to do this. I no longer have the will to be the only one keeping my family afloat.When do my hopes matter? When do my dreams and wants matter? I don't think I even have any of those, to be honest. No one has ever cared. It’s always been about me taking care of them. I’ve dedicated everything. I’ve drained my savings account to keep food on the table and electricity running in their home.I have nothing to my name now except my house because they had nothing to theirs. All those jobs I worked when I was younger, including my present job as an assistant, at one of the most popular companies in D.C., every dime pinched and saved in hopes of buying my own house one day, gone.I know I’m bitter. I know that. I know I’m selfish and I’m being a bad daughter and sister, but when do I stop being all that for them, and where does that leave my family? I can’t stop, right? I can’t stop being what they need me to be. It isn’t fair to them."It's not fair to them," I mutter and then exhale loudly, mentally scolding myself for letting my emotions crowd my duty to my family.I can't think of quitting, because they need me and I need them, we're family. Especially with my grandma living in my parent's house now. My parents had demanded I take her to a retirement home because they didn't want to have to take care of her at this age, but I refused. I refused to let my grandmother, the woman who had done a better job at raising my brother and me than our mother. Especially now, with her being very old I didn't trust any retirement home. Gran needed patience, and enough care while being surrounded by loved ones. And I'll continue to provide that for her as long as we're both alive. Even if it means coming from work to see her every day when I'm supposed to be resting for my next day at work.I throw my wild curly hair in a messy bun to at least get it off my sweaty neck and stand in front of the box fan for a few minutes. It’s blowing dry, hot air but it’s better than nothing, right?The doorbell chimes and I hold my breath, hoping it’s a customer but it’s just my younger brother, James.“Rosalie! I fucked up, sis. I fucked up!” He slams the door, locks it, and laces his fingers behind his neck.I drop the broom when I see the bruises on his face. “Oh my god, James. What happened?” I hurry to the front door and flip the sign to close. “Who did this to you?” I grip his chin, turning his head left and right. He has a black eye and a split lip. One hand is holding his side as if he has been kicked. “Who did this to you?” I repeat.He pulls away and begins pacing the length of the room, "It doesn't matter. I need some money," James tells me."W-what? I don't have any money right now." I say honestly. "Who hurt you, James? We should go to the police right away." I walk closer to him and begin studying the bruises again."I said leave it! All I need is the money you're going to give me." He says roughly."I told you, I'm currently broke. But if you can be patient, I'll try to ask for an advance at work. I already spent my last salary on all the needs you and our parents have." I explain gently."So, not only are you useless to me right now, you're calling us needy?" He sneers."W-what? James don't be ridiculous. I never said that. You should know what I-" he cuts me off abruptly."Never mind. I'll find the money myself." He walks towards the door to leave.My heart breaks as I blink back tears, "James! Wait, I don't have the money now but just be patient with me, please." I go after him and beg."Leave me alone, Rosalie. I don't need your stupid money." James spits before walking out and leaving me alone in the dimly lit, and quiet store.Rosalie "Rosalie, send the minutes from the last meeting to my email." My boss's voice fills my office through the small communication device he installed here. It's only connected to my office. So, I'm the only one that can hear him. Which is a bad thing sometimes.Mr Sinclair looks up in surprise when I walk in, a frown marring his handsome face as his gaze roams over my attire. I look down at myself, taking in the skirt and long-sleeved blouse I’m wearing, embarrassment rendering me speechless for a moment. I can count the times I’ve been around him in my usual work clothing on one hand. I never compromise on my professionalism, and neither does he.I still remember the warning he gave me when we first started working together. He told me to never walk into his office wearing anything I couldn’t attend a board meeting in, and until today, I never have.I cleared my throat and cleaned my sweaty palm on my skirt, "Mr Sinclair, I brought the minutes you asked for." His hard gaze rema
Rosalie"Grandma! That's a naughty thing to say." I laugh along with my grandmother at something she said.She smiles at me. “I'm not a child, Rosie. I may be old but I used to get it down too when I was around your age." She winks at me and I can't help but erupt into another fit of laughter. I don't think I want to ever hear my grandmother use the term 'getting it down' again. I lift our joined hands to my face and warm her hand on my cheek.Her touch has always felt like home. I've always been at my happiest when I'm around my grandmother."Oh, Lord! Grandma." I throw my head back, laughing loudly. My laugh fills the silence in the house, reminding me that Grams and I were alone tonight, as usual.She shoots me a knowing look. “What happened, Sweet Rosie? Why have you been so upset lately? It’s been a few weeks now, and you haven’t been yourself.""Upset? I'm not upset, Grams. I'm fine," I lie. "Don't worry about me." She places her hands on mine, "Don't lie to me, child. I know yo
Rosalie "Rosie?”I look up, surprised to find David Muller, one of our fund managers, standing by my desk. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I was lost in thought and didn’t notice you standing there. God, I’m so sorry. What can I do for you?”He smiles at me sweetly and shakes his head. It’s clear he’s been standing here a while, but I didn’t even notice him. I need to pull myself together.“There was an error in the report I sent you, so I printed a new copy for you ahead of the meeting. I hope I’m in time?”I glance at my watch and nod. “We have about forty minutes left. I can’t thank you enough for catching and correcting that so swiftly.”He shakes his head bashfully. “I never should have made a mistake in the first place. If the boss caught it, my job would’ve been at risk. You know what he’s like.” I do know what it's like, but I refrain from telling him that not only his job would have been at risk, but mine too. With how much, Mr Sinclair detests me, I'm surprised he hasn't fired m
Nicolas Sinclair I stare at my phone, willing myself to reply to Natalia’s messages and failing to. I should have been putting some effort into getting to improve my marriage with my wife, but instead, I ignored her for a week straight until she showed up at my office.Three years ago, I could not see myself marrying her, but I had no choice. One way or another, I’ll have to learn to live with her. I sigh and run a hand through my hair, my thoughts turning back to last night.Sitting through that dinner with Natalia was much harder than I expected it to be. All night, all she talked about was fashion shows and holidays she wanted to go on. She was somewhat concerned about what our fourth yearly honeymoon would be like, and whether it’d be extravagant enough for her tastes, but she was never remotely interested in what a marriage between us would look like.But then again, neither was I.The idea for a yearly honeymoon was hers, I don't even know what that means. But I've gone along wi
Rosalie As I took the slow intentional steps towards my office, with my heart in my throat and my palms clammy from nervousness. I hope to God that Mr Sinclair showed up later than usual or didn't even come to work today at all.I haven't seen him since he helped with the search for Grams. I was so scared when I heard she went missing. I remember going home and searching for hours on end. My mind kept straying to places I couldn't accept.What if something happened to her? What if she slipped and fell... No, Rosalie! All these thoughts became much worse when my mother told me that Grams was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and said it was my fault she went missing. And she was right. If only I had just taken up a second job or used the money I've been saving up for a house, I should have been able to scrap up a fair amount to pay for a retirement home for Grams.I was so fucking scared of losing her that I didn't realize how much keeping her home could have been worse.I got a bigger kick
Rosalie It's been a week since I signed my life away to the devil. Literally.After I signed the contract, I assumed Mr. Sinclair would demand my presence immediately but he's been radio silent for a week. Even at work, he doesn't acknowledge the contract or the contents of it. He is as professional as ever and it's driving me mad. The way he has been acting has made me begin to think that the entire thing was a scenario I made up in my head.I mean why would my boss ask me to be his Mistress? It would have been so much better if this was the handiwork of my crazy imagination, but the two-page contract occupying more space than expected in my handbag said otherwise.I had sent him an email about the STD test I took. It's not like I needed to take one anyway, I'd never had sex before.It's not like I didn't want to have sex or it didn't interest me, I guess I've just been too busy taking care of everyone to consider any sort of sexual relationship.And now there's a high chance that
Rosalie It's currently six-thirty p.m. I got to my parents' home around five p.m. and had a late dinner with Gran because she refused to eat unless I was there. After dinner, I cleared out the dishes before preparing to go to my house."Rosalie!" My father's loud voice calls out to me. I rinse my hand and go to the parlor where he must be. "Where the bloody hell is it?" I hear him murmuring before I turn the corner and see my father searching for my handbag."Dad, what's the meaning of this? What are you doing?" I snatch the bag from the table and out of his reach.He gives me an outstretched palm, "I-I need some money, Rosie. Give me money." He staggers a little before getting his balance. He's drunk. Nothing new here I guess."I don't have any cash on me. The last one I had is what I used to buy Gran some dinner on my way home.""Liar! Give me some money or I'll sell the fucking shop," he tells angrily before tossing the table across the room.My heart breaks, "Dad I don't have any
Rosalie "Take the rest off," Nicolas commands referring to my blouse. I reach for the hem of my blouse before pulling it over my head. A sharp inhale of breath leaves his mouth when I'm standing in front of him in just my underwear and heels.The way his eyes rake my body makes me self-conscious and I slowly wrap my arm around myself covering my body from his preying eyes."Don't," He warns. "Drop your hands." He comes closer till there's only a mere inch separating us. "You're fucking perfect." He exclaims breathily before claiming my mouth with his. The first few seconds of the kiss are rough. It's a battle for dominance as he bites my lower lip so I can give his tongue entry. I finally give in and kiss him, taking what I’ve been wanting all along.Nicholas groans and fists my hair, his touch rough as he forces my lips open, deepening our kiss. His hands roam over my body with such urgency that he’s almost got me believing that this is more than just simple lust.“Fuck, Rosalie,” he