Wrecked: A Dark Billionaire Romance: Chapter 1
Wrecked: A Dark Billionaire Romance (The Billionaires Secret Club Book 1)
âCan I get you anything else?â I tried to put as much sincerity into my voice as possible. I held my breath, hoping the customer was finished so I could close the register.
âIâd like a Diet Coke to go. And another order of fries, to go.â Her face scrunched up. She pushed her glasses further up as she squinted at the menu. âAnd a biscuit. With gravy. Also to go.â
I nodded. I could do this. âIâll have those right out.â I truly did want to make the customers happy. That was part of my job at the Blackstreet Diner, after all. But by eight p.m., I was numb. My arms and neck ached from carrying the heavy trays, and my eyes watered from going in and out of the kitchen where a hamburger patty had burned earlier in the day. My uniform smelled like onions and my hands were raw and chapped from washing them so many times.
On the other side of the diner, a young girl around two years old, who looked just like my little sister Bella at that age, was watching Cinderella at top volume on a tablet. In my head, I sang along with the songs, letting my mind drift as I worked on the order.
It was a nice change for my usual fretting, where I wondered how long I would be able to continue juggling everything in my life. With my multiple jobs, my college classes, and my little sisterâs school activities, I was stretched so thin I often felt Iâd disappear altogether.
The rest of my shift passed in a haze. I felt removed and distant, as if were watching myself wipe down tables, fill drink orders, and carry trays from a long way away.
That was probably the sleep deprivation.
Cinderella was a nice movie, but no fairy godmother was coming for me.
Once I was on the bus, I fell asleep. Which was pretty stupid, because I knew plenty of people whoâd had their stuff stolen right out of their hands on a bus. But I couldnât help it. I sat down in my usual seat, mentally focusing on going through my to-do list for the next day. But the next thing I knew, the driver was nudging me with her umbrella. âTime to get up, honey.â
âThank you.â I put an extra dollar â one that I didnât really have to spare â into her tip jar. I always sat right behind the driver, and she always made sure I didnât miss my stop.
I tried to open the door to the apartment as quietly as possible. My sister should be in bed, but my best friend Lily sometimes fell asleep on my couch.
Tonight, Lily was awake, and she was actually folding my laundry.
âLily! Donât do that.â I was already embarrassed enough that I had to rely on Lily so much just to survive. I certainly didnât want her doing my housework. It would be so easy to take advantage of her, because she worked from home and lived in the apartment next door. And she never let me pay her for helping, which was often on a daily basis.
âI was too tired to do anything else. And itâs not like Iâm doing anything hard.â She nodded toward the kitchen. âNot like that mess in there.â
It was true that my kitchen sink needed an overhaul, but all the other surfaces were clean.
She held up a small purple shirt with a unicorn on the front. âAt least Bellaâs stuff is cute to fold.â
âHer stuff is definitely easier to deal with.â I picked up a pair of her neon socks and folded them together. âIs she in bed?â
âYeah. She went to lie down around seven. She seemed tired.â
âThat doesnât sound like Bella.â She usually found any reason to stay up and hang out with Lily. Even though Lily lived next door, and my sister saw her nearly every day, she always wanted more time with her.
Lily shrugged. âSheâs probably worn out from archery practice. An hour of holding a bow is a long time for an eight-year-old.â
âYouâre right. Thank you for picking her up today.â I sank into one of the kitchen chairs. I let my head fall into my arms.
âRough shift?â
âNot so bad. I saw a family there. They were just a normal, hard-working family. They had a little girl. She drew for a long time, then when she got tired of it, she watched Cinderella. The parents just stared at her and smiled for the whole hour they were there. You could tell how much they treasured her.â I raised my head to make eye contact with Lily. âI hate it every single day that Bella doesnât have that.â
âYou didnât have that either, and you turned out pretty great. â Lily came over and put one arm around my shoulders. âAnd Bella has you. You treasure her.â
Lily was right, I did treasure her. But it wasnât the same. Bella had one parent, total, and our mother didnât really deserve that title. I sighed. âMy mom texted me yesterday.â
âWhat did she want?â Lily knew how my mother operated.
âMoney.â
âDrugs?â
âNot this time. She said her boyfriend was in jail.â
âI hope you told her to get lost.â
âI told her I didnât have any money to lend her. I know I donât have to say this, but please watch out for her â you know how she sneaks around when she wants money. If she finds out where we live, she could show up anytime. She could try to take Bella with her.â I would do anything in my power to prevent that from happening.
Lily squeezed my hand. âDonât worry about that. Iâm always on the lookout for her. I never let go of Bellaâs hand when weâre out. We never leave anything unlocked.â
âThank you, Lily.â I hugged her, holding on for longer than usual. âYou have no idea what you mean to me.â
âI do. Because you mean the same thing to me. And I know you hear this from me all the time, but do not let this get you down. You have to focus on what you can do. And that is love Bella.â
She was right, but that didnât make me worry any less.
She slapped my arm. âIâm leaving. You made me feel all mushy inside.â
I couldnât go to sleep unless I checked on my sister. It was an old habit, one that had begun when Bella was born and my mother would disappear for days at a time, drunk and high.
I was twelve at the time. But I couldnât leave Bella to cry. I would go in her room, pick her up and lie on the floor next to her crib, keeping her tiny body next to mine. Now, eight years later, I had no desire to break that habit.
Snuggled in her twin bed, Bella turned over and looked up at me.
âHi Chrissy,â she whispered.
âLilyâs gone. You donât have to whisper.â
âOkay!â
I blinked and rubbed my ears. âMaybe not that loud.â I rubbed my hand over her forehead. âHow was school?â
âMaryâs mom brought cupcakes today for her birthday.â
âI thought that was against the rules.â The handbook weâd received said absolutely no birthday parties, as it was a distraction to have parties happening every other week. The school had one giant birthday party each semester to celebrate all the kidsâ birthdays at once.
âIt is. But her mom showed up with them and she smiled big and said she knew she wasnât supposed to, but she just couldnât help it. And Mrs. Johnson let her. So we had cupcakes.â I tried to say goodnight, but she wasnât done with the story.
âThey had white icing with little blue paw prints on them. Her mom had plates and napkins with paw prints too. And she took so many pictures of all of us eating them that her phone battery died! Then James put icing on his nose!â Bella began to giggle as she went into lengthy detail about the drama of several more children painting their faces with the blue icing from the paw prints.
âThat is funny.â I tried to fake a laugh to cover the way my voice broke. I would like to do that sort of thing for Bella. Even more than I wanted to be that person for her, I wanted our mother to be like Maryâs mother.
That was never going to happen.
âI want my next birthday to be cats.â
I blinked a few times and hid a sniffle. Bella was good at picking up on my distress. âCat-themed?â On her birthday, I did buy a box cake and icing. There had never been a party though.
âYes. Cats on everything.â Bella propped her head up on her hands. âCan I ask you something?â
âOf course.â I assumed sheâd ask why I didnât come to the school. The only time I was at the school was when I was picking her up, and sadly, I was often late.
âWhy doesnât our mom do stuff like that? How come you have to do it all?â
âSweetie, you know sheâs sick.â I felt nauseous just saying the words. Our mother wasnât sick. She was an addict, one that wouldnât consider getting help. A mother who would rather drink than see her child. I had tried, time after time, to coax her into rehab. She refused.
âShe could go to the doctor.â Bella patted my arm. âYou could ask her.â
âThatâs a great idea. Iâll do that next time I talk to her.â I really didnât want to get her hopes up. I kissed her forehead. âGood night, Sweetie-Belle.â
Long after I should have been in bed, I went to the kitchen to get ready for the next day.
I pulled Bellaâs lunchbox from her bag. Some of the girls at school had lunchboxes that matched their backpacks, with their initials embroidered into the canvas. I couldnât pay forty dollars for a lunchbox, but I had found this one at the thrift store. Bella didnât mind, because it had kittens on it, and kittens were her favorite thing in the world.
She asked once a month if we could have a cat, and I had to say no. Our apartment didnât allow pets, and even if it did, I couldnât afford cat food and vet bills. And I wasnât home enough. Lily would end up feeding the cat and changing litter, and that wouldnât be fair; she did enough for us. I also couldnât add taking care of another living being. My brain and my body might explode.
Last year, Lily had suggested we take Bella to a shelter and let her play with the cats as a volunteer. I had been afraid it would devastate her to leave without one. But now that she was older, I was ready to give it a try. As soon as I had a day off on the weekend, or even a half day off, I was going to take her to the shelter to pet cats.
I had to come up with something for her lunch tomorrow. I had one tortilla left, and shredded cheese, so I made a cheese quesadilla for her and wrapped it in foil. I put the last apple with it, hoping that would be enough.
Lunch made, I went to the pantry. We had a can of olives that had been on sale. I had eaten the rest of the peanut butter the day before. I was going to have to make time to visit the food pantry before the end of the week. They were only open on Thursdays, and fitting it in between school and work was tough. But if I could get a few cans of beans and corn, I could make soup that would last us several days. I found four saltine crackers left in the package. I opened the can of olives and ate them with the crackers.
It wasnât enough.
It never was.