“I don’t know anything?” I repeated angrily. “I don’t know anything? Fuck, Jackson! It’s you who doesn’t know anything! Don’t you know that you’re supposed to take care of your family?” I pointed angrily towards my chest. “That’s what families do, Jackson! They take care of each other!”
Jackson’s smirk vanished. “My family is dead,” he said coolly, before turning on his heel and walking out of the lobby.
I sank down to the floor and started to sob as Jackson walked away. Even though I screamed after him to turn around and come back, he didn’t listen. Instead, security guards came and grabbed me before unceremoniously throwing me out onto the street. It had begun to snow outside, but I didn’t even feel cold. All I felt was hatred and anger towards the man who should have been one of my closest relatives.
Jackson Rhodes, my stepbrother, was now officially my enemy.
I knew I couldn’t hang around First Perfect all day waiting to see Jackson again. The guards who tossed me out made it very clear that I wouldn’t be allowed back inside under any circumstances. Finally, I decided to take a cab back to the bed and breakfast. I couldn’t face the idea of talking to Mom yet, and I knew I’d have to come up with the perfect phrasing so she wouldn’t be upset with me.
But it is my fault, I thought dejectedly as the cab carried me through the slushy streets. If I hadn’t been such a bitch, maybe Jackson would’ve listened to me. But, oh, I wasn’t that bad. He never wanted to listen in the first place! If I hadn’t bumped into him in the lobby, I probably would’ve gone the whole trip without seeing him at all!
All I could was curl up and cry. I wound up falling asleep, gripping my legs to my chest with my shoes still on.
Hours later, the sound of the phone ringing woke up. My heart sank as I realized where I was. It’s probably Mom, I thought sadly. And now I’m going to have to tell her the truth.
Warily, I grabbed the receiver and held it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Belle?”
I frowned. “Who is this?”
There was a laugh. “It’s Jackson,” the voice said “Don’t you recognize my voice? I am your stepbrother after all. Didn’t you say something earlier about family?”
I groaned. “What do you want?”
“Hey,” Jackson said, sounding wounded. “That’s a nice way to say hello.”
I sighed. “Well, you did laugh in my face and tell me that I wasn’t really family,” I said grudgingly. “What the hell do you want?”
“I want you to meet me for lunch tomorrow.”
My senses tingled with alarm. “Why?”
Jackson chuckled again – the sound of his laughter was enough to make my blood boil.
“You’ll find out,” he said patiently, like he was talking to a small child.
“When?”
“Tomorrow,” Jackson said. “At Le Bateau Ivrea. I doubt you’ve heard of it, but it’s in Manhattan. Shall I send a driver to pick you up?”
My heart was thudding in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to refuse him, to tell him that I’d been through enough already and I didn’t need this asshole toying with my emotions.
But just as I was about to say the words, Mom’s sad face popped into my mind. I knew I couldn’t do it – I knew I had do go through whatever Jackson wanted. If there was even a slim chance of Jackson offering Mom money, I knew I had to do it.
“I can get there on my own,” I said warily. “What time?”
Jackson chuckled. “You’ve always been so independent, Belle. I’ve always liked that about you.”
We agreed to meet at twelve-thirty the next day and then Jackson hung up. When the dial tone started buzzing in my ear, I reluctantly pulled the phone away and set it back in the cradle. My stomach was doing nervous flips and flops – I couldn’t believe that Jackson had changed gears so quickly. What the hell was this about? I had a horrible vision – me, walking into some classy bistro, with a bloodstain on the back of my pants.
I cringed. It’s always going to be just like high school, I thought with a shiver as I lay back down in bed. And I’m always going to be weak around Jackson, just like always.
--
The next day, I dressed in the classiest outfit that I’d brought with me – a simple black dress and flat sandals – and took a cab into Manhattan. The drive was just long enough for me to start worrying about running out of money before I even left the city. I’d looked up Le Bateau Ivre online and felt concern – what if Jackson refused to pay for me? What was I going to do? The prices were so high that I knew my savings would be gone in no time.
To my shock, Jackson was there when I arrived. He was wearing a grey suit that matched the color of his eyes perfectly. As I walked closer, he stood up from his seat at the bar and smiled coldly.