Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
It made them sell the family home. That makes no sense to me and I push to my feet to finish packing. I need to get home, which I guess is now in New York City.
“We’ll see you in the city, honey,” my mother says, as if confirming my question. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I murmur, but she’s already hung up.
***
When I arrive in New York City, my mother picks me up from the train station and whisks me away to a spa and shopping excursion to prepare for my big evening event. She’s hellbent on spoiling her only child, who is finally home, if only for the weekend. This to me is my mother being my mother. Everything seems as it should be, except for the couple times I find my mother staring into space. When I say something to her about it, she waves me off.
“Work stuff,” she says, and launches into the topic of what I will wear tonight.
When I’ve picked a long, emerald-green gown for the evening, we head to the apartment, which is near Central Park, and just not home to me. Home is Jersey and it’s weird walking into an apartment and knowing that’s all we have. Not that it’s a cheap apartment. I’ve lived my parent’s world long enough to know that in certain zip codes, this one included, five million dollars isn’t even enough to buy space, just prestige.
Tonight though, is all about the city.
I have a few hours to nap and dress, and hopefully chat with my father about what’s really going on with them and the house, but he’s “at work” per my mother. There’s a nagging sensation in my belly telling me something is wrong, but then suddenly my father is home, pulling me into a bear hug despite some big box in his hands.
“Your mother sent me to Jersey to get your favorite cake,” he announces. “And I’m happy to announce after a major traffic jam, I made it. I have the cake.” He indicates the box.
For the next hour we laugh and joke, and have the kind of fabulous family time that has always made me feel warm and happy. There is not one person in my life with money that has the family bonds I share with my parents.
All the people in my life with money are not as rich as me, and yet, I wonder if my parents really remember that reality. If they did, wouldn’t we still be at the big family home in Jersey? I decide I need to come home more often.
***
A female professor once told me that being a woman is a powerful thing if you embrace it and refuse to see it any other way.
I step in front of the bathroom mirror with her words in mind as I inspect myself with approval. My dress is a power statement. A strong color. Boldly one shouldered. A declaration that I am woman, I am proud of it, and I am here to leave a lasting impression. Unbidden, I’m wondering what Damion will think of me now, frustrated at myself for where I’ve allowed myself to travel. This is not me being powerful. He probably doesn’t think of me at all. We had an encounter at a party. That was all. I’m sure the blonde took his mind off of things, and I refuse to be affected by his presence tonight.
This is about all my hard work being recognized.
Nevertheless, nerves kick in as I slide into the back of the sedan sent for me by the organization holding the event.
Our destination is the Time Warner Center, a short few miles away, but my heart pitter patters as if it’s hundreds of miles and I’m on foot, not planted on a cushy leather seat. Despite the jittery sensation in my belly, I exit the car with my chin high and ready to prove I belong here. Belonging has always been my issue. I never quite have and even Sally has proven that to be true. Yes, she apologized, but we aren’t quite the same anymore.
I’m directed to one of a cluster of buildings, a high-rise of glistening black glass, where I’m greeted at the door by an official looking doorman. From there, I’m directed the iconic Medallion Lounge, where I’m offered a gold pin to place on my dress that identifies me as one of the hundred. Nerves jangle in my belly again. This is happening to me. Little ol’ me. And then I go sideways again with my next thought. Damion is here. I should be thinking about the CEOs and leaders I will soon meet, but he is in my mind.
I shove thoughts of my bad boy, player, ex-neighbor, once friend, away.
Once I step inside the lounge, I’m informed by a hostess—a gorgeous redhead in a golden dress—that there are several levels for me to visit, and each is a different style journey. “Not only does each floor represent a different design style, you’ll find many of our state’s great business leaders on each level.” She motions to a waiter with champagne and says, “Enjoy the night. You deserve this, Alana.”