Chapter 1
I live in LA away from my family, independent and happy. I'm an adult and I don't care much about my family's tradition because I always wanted to live my life on my own terms.
— Evelyn Pierce
"I should get ready ‘ Clara ’ is waiting in the café and she will get mad at me if I don't make it on time." I speak to myself.
Although I don't feel like going at all, I head into my closet to change into something nice yet casual. After a few Yes and No's, and a little flinging of some clothes, I finally decided on a baby pink tank top with my blue slightly frayed jean shorts and my black combat boots.
Once I'm done, I take a look around my room and internally cringe at the mess I've made. So I hurriedly picked up and arranged the clothes. While doing so, I received an incoming call from mum, and seeing as I'm in a hurry I decline deciding to call back later. After that, I rushed out to the cafe.
After meeting up with Clara, I headed back home to my apartment.
I was casually relaxing on one of my bean bags when I remembered I was supposed to call mum back. Sitting up I reach for my phone and dial her number, placing it on my ear.
"Hey mum, what's up?" I ask immediately she picks.
"Evelyn, where have you been?" She asks in her motherly tone.
"Sorry mum, all caught up in shifting and my job you know," I tried explaining.
"Enough with the excuses sweetie, I have new for you," she says excitedly with a hint of a smile in her voice and I swear I hear her squeal.
Confused at her excitement, "What?" I ask, "Please don't tell me you and dad are getting a divorce!," I groan.
"Shut up!" She scolds then laughs. "You're getting married!" She squeals this time to my hearing.
Due to the shock of her words, I jerk my head back and it collides with the wall.
Shit!
Massaging the spot, I focused my attention on her, "What? Who? Mum I told you I don't want to--" I whine.
But no she didn't let me finish, "You asked for two years and you've had it, there is no escape," she said completely cutting me off.
"I have no interest in getting married!" I cry, my mind churning with all the possibilities and stuff. Just because I am two years over twenty doesn't mean I need a man in my life. Not to be a feminist and all, but I can handle myself pretty well and I am not ready for all that marriage stuff.
"That's not an option," she counters.
With a sigh and a headache I feel coming on, I respond, "mum, look I can't do this right now. You know what, I have to go meet someone so I'm kind of in a hurry," I solicit.
"Young lady, don't you dare hang up on me," she warns.
"Have to run, sorry mum, bye! Love you!," I add before hanging up.
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It's the next day and I have a very important meeting with a client today.
"I feel like I'm not prepared well enough," I quake.
"Why do you say that? You're always prepared!" Rachael exclaims.
"I don't know," I reply with a shrug. "I was-- until my mother's call," I add throwing my head back with an exaggerated groan.
"Uh-oh! Why does that sound so dreading?" She queries with an arched brow.
"Because it is, ugh!" I grumble.
"Look, whatever it is, I'm sure you can figure it out later," she says reassuringly. "You have a big promotion coming up your way and I need you to NAIL this meeting for the sake of both of us," she advices.
"You are such a weirdo!" I bring my head forward, "always thinking of yourself and your precious lil' company," I taunt, a smile on my face.
"That's a very BIG execution," she grins.
I let a laugh out, "who would believe you're my boss?" I question.
"I know right!," She answers giggling. "But above that we are friends and I do care about you," she says sweetly.
Rachael is my friend and second cousin, when I first moved to LA she landed me my first job. But now that she's a young and successful entrepreneur, she offered me a hand in partnership and I gladly said yes. Things are looking really well for the both of us.
"We will talk about the call later, okay?" She assures me.
"Over triple chocolate brownie?" I ask with a pout.
She laughs, "let's see how you do at this meeting first," she counters.
"I'll take that as a CHALLENGE!" I reply with a smug expression on my face. "Let's see if you make time for me after this meeting," I add.
"What are you implying?" She asks, her brow raised in confusion.
"You know very well."
"What?"
"Mr Leo is crushing hard on you," I snicker, "so you might want to spend post-meeting time with him," I shrug and then laugh.
"NO, he is not! And stop calling him ‘ Mr Leo ’" she frowns.
"I know his name is Nate! And I know because the other day he called to get your personal number," I say with a wiggle of my brows.
"What?" She yells completely horrified. Her expression was totally priceless, with her mouth wide open and her caramel eyes blazing.
"Which for the record I haven't given him--," I pause for a second or two, "yet!" I state with a smirk.
"Don't you dare!" She threatens.
"Why not?" I argue enjoying myself. "He's hot, successful, quite confident in YOUR absence I might add." I mention.
"Huh?"
"Which probably in your eyes makes him look like an ‘ idiot ’," I admit.
"Your point?" She asks in a bored tone.
"My point is, you should cut him some slack," I suggest. "You come off a bit too strong– maybe tone down this time a bit and you'll see what I am. I'm asking as a friend." I beg with pleading eyes.
"You know I take business matters serious an--," she explains
"Yes, and you should," I respond cutting her off. "Just think of it like umm-- just give him a SMALL chance. Don't try to take control of the conversation ‘ JUST THIS TIME ’ please," I plead stressing the please.
"Really?" She asks.
"Who knows he might actually impress you this time," I state with a slight shrug. "It's adorable seeing a young man all flabbergasted and hypnotized around you." I laugh.
I may have hit the right spot because Rachel looks deep in thought.
"Shall we?" I ask waving a hand in front of her face.
"Huh?" She blinks rapidly coming back from la-la land. "Yes, ok." She says.
I grin devilishly.
She must have seen my face because she says, "SMUG FACE!"
"You saw!" I respond with a laugh.
—Few hours later—
We were done with the meeting which went well and the client looked quite satisfied.
"I think this collaboration between YOU and NATE will prove fruitful for this client, don't you?" I ask.
"Huh?"
"I mean BUSINESS. . . Collaboration," I winked.
She laughs dryly, "ha ha. Not funny," she responds with a straight face.
"Somebody is awfully moody. The meeting went well, so what happened to you?" I ask in concern.
"I know, I know." She rubs her temple.
"Are you thinking about. . ." I pause and grin deviously wiggling my brows.
"IF YOU SAY NATE ONE MORE TIME, I WILL HIT YOU. . . REAL BAD!" She said threateningly with a hand raised in the air.
A laugh escapes me, "I want going to say– in fact I--,"
"I got your point all right? I noticed the same thing you told me," she admits in a small voice.
Before I could give her a look she said, "don't give me that ‘ I told you so ’ look," she said pointedly.
"So what are you going to do about it now?" I pester.
"I haven't given it a thought, we need to focus on work only. Enough about me, do you still want to grab a brownie?" She asks dismissing the topic.
"PLEASE! My stomach is killing me!" I exclaim.
She chuckles, "and don't forget you need to tell me what aunty called." She says.
"Trust me, I haven't forgotten why!" I say with a frown.
We both hit the newest café and I explained to Rachael why mum called. Obviously she didn't have any bright ideas yet and she asked for me to consider my mum's option. A suggestion to which I scoffed loudly at because all I can say is that, it's not happening.
