Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
And when I learned that her friend Bri had opened her own Pilates studio, I had to check it out, and I’ve become obsessed. I’m not a fan of the gym—all those guys huffing and grunting and throwing weights around—but the classes at Club Serenity are relaxing while giving me a full-body workout. I doubt I can afford to join a studio near me when I return to school, but I’m almost certain my school’s gym offers similar classes for free.
“It’s going well,” I tell her. “Once I start this semester, I’ll officially be a senior. Two semesters to go, and I’ll be a college graduate.”
“What are you majoring in?” Bri asks, taking a bite of her strawberry muffin.
“I’m double majoring in business and fashion design. I’d like to one day start my own clothing line and open a boutique that carries it, along with several other lines.”
Creating clothes is my passion. And the thought of getting to spend my life doing it while making a living has me giddy inside. I’m so close to graduating that I can practically taste it.
“And you should see her designs,” Nicole gushes, pulling out her phone and flipping through her photos. “She’s got style.”
She shows Bri several outfits I’ve made and sent to Nicole over the years, and Brielle praises each one, giving me a jolt of confidence. I’ve been interning for a local designer, and I’ve learned so much about the fashion world, but I know I still have a long way to go.
The fashion industry is not for the weak, but because it’s been a passion of mine since I was little—thumbing through my mom’s magazines that she’d live vicariously through when we lived in South Harbor Point and she was too broke to keep our electric on every month, let alone afford the clothes modeled in the magazines—I’ve been perfecting my craft over the years.
Since we couldn’t afford clothes like that, I used to watch YouTube videos at school and write down how to make my own clothes. Miss Young—a sweet older woman who owned a small fabric and sewing shop in South Harbor Point—used to let me sweep her floors and dust in exchange for her giving me the leftover scraps. I used them to make my own clothes and realized that I had a knack for it.
“She makes all her own clothes,” Nicole tells Bri. “Remember the cute sundress I wore to your gender reveal party? She’d made it.”
While I can’t stand Eric Vanderbilt, the man my mom latched on to—not because she was attracted to him and cared about him, but because he was loaded—his daughter and I have formed a friendship over the years. To say she’s nothing like her father would be an understatement. I didn’t know her mother when she was alive since our parents got together years later, but I’d imagine she’s ninety-nine percent her.
“Any chance you could make me a cute dress for our maternity shoot? I can’t find anything I love,” Bri complains. “I want to do something cute before the baby comes, and I found an awesome photographer, but everything looks so … pregnancy.”
Bri scrunches her nose up, and the three of us laugh.
“I could, but I would have to mail it to you. I’m only here for a few more days, and then I’m heading back to Seattle.”
“Already?” Nicole pouts.
“You know I’m only here because my mother summoned me.”
As much as I’d love to have a relationship with my mom, I’ve learned over the years that she has no desire to have one with me. I honestly don’t even know why she asked me to come here when she’s yet to spend any time with me.
Nicole nods in understanding, and a look of sympathy briefly crosses over her features before she reins it in.
“It’s all good,” I tell her, forcing a smile onto my face. “I get to spend time with you, and your company is way better than hers.”
My mother met Eric during my freshman year in high school. While he fell for my mom instantly—and why wouldn’t he? She’s twenty years younger, beautiful, and determined to be the perfect trophy wife—he wasn’t thrilled that we were a package deal. And since all she wanted was to find a rich man to take care of her, I wasn’t about to mess that up for her.
When he insisted that I switch to an all-girls boarding school—not wanting his stepdaughter to be seen attending South Harbor Point’s public school and wanting me as far away from him as possible so he could set up his position to run for mayor—I went along with it, knowing it would help me get into a college of my choice as far away from here as possible.
And I was right. Three and a half years at that pretentious school, and I not only got into every school I’d applied to, but I got enough money in scholarships that I didn’t need a single dime from Eric for college. My mother might be okay with a man supporting her, but I’ll be damned if I have to ever rely on a man for anything.