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Authors: M.V. Miles

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BOOK: Twisted Proposal
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“What?” Stuart asked, as he climbed in and rolled down the windows.

“Nothing.”

“The door's unlocked. You can get in anytime.” Stuart started the engine.

              “Is it safe?”

              “Yes, Addison, it’s perfectly safe. Now, will you please get in the car?”

I slid in, slamming the door on purpose. There was no way this car was safe. We were practically sitting on the ground. But it was pretty sharp. I had to give him that.

“Put your seatbelt on.”

              “Duh, I’m not stupid.”

              He peeled out of the garage, tires squealing all the way down the curving exit ramp.

              As we left the airport, I spotted a sign that welcomed us to the Sunshine State. All the sunshine in the world couldn’t take away the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Chapter Eight

Stuart lowered the top, exposing us to the sun and the wind, which whipped my hair around so much that I pulled my hood up.

“This is so much better than being in that nasty cold weather,” he yelled, smiling over at me.

“I like snow,” I lied.

He smirked and turned up the radio.

I shifted toward the window and came to face to face with my reflection in the side view mirror. My eyes were red-rimmed with dark smudges under them. Surprisingly, most of the concealer was still there, but it would have to be reapplied soon.
All this wind didn’t help
. I looked up as we were passing a street lined with palm trees and people playing Frisbee in the park.
Perpetual summer.

I lowered my eyes to my ripped jeans and my pale skin peeking through.
What was going to happen now?
What if he dropped me off on the side of the road? What would I do then?
I didn’t know anyone, and it wasn’t like I had a cell phone to call for help. Besides I’m sure the pay phone cost more than fifty cents here. 

What did I expect?
This wasn’t the first time I’d felt isolated. Six months ago Elizabeth was picked up for drugs, and I was sent to the county home for unwanted children. My stay there was cut short when I added bleach to some bully's shampoo. That led to juvenile hall, where I spent most of my month in isolation. Everything seemed lost, but Elizabeth got clean and I got to go home. I really thought she’d changed.
If I’d only known she was sick then…

Stuart pulled off the highway, disrupting my thoughts as we entered into a residential area. Everything was so clean and fresh. So different than the trash-littered streets I was used to. Here there was space for kids to run around. I bet the crime rate was low.

We turned left, and the houses seemed to get bigger with more space between them.  As we rounded a corner, I could see we were on a cliff overlooking the winding street we’d just taken. It looked like a post card I had seen before.
But where?

My knees touched the dash as I slouched down and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if he opened the door and pushed me out. It was just a matter of time before we reached our destination--wherever that was.
Would I be ready?

The car stopped, and I opened my eyes to see a shack-like structure with a man wearing a khaki uniform sitting inside. He stepped out, clipboard in hand, and squatted next to the car. He reminded me of those mall cops who carried around mace instead of a gun. It made me smile. Sitting up, I peered around. We were at a gate and just beyond the gate, giant trees lined either side of the road. I spotted a sign welcoming us to Pinnacle Acres.

“Mr. McDaniel, did you have a nice flight?” the man asked as he handed Stuart a pen.

“Yes. Frank, this is my daughter, Addison. She’ll be moving in with us. Will you add her name to our family roster?”

“Of course, and nice to meet you, Addison…?”  Frank directed at me.

“Solomon. My last name is Solomon,” I stated.

“Solomon,” the man repeated, writing my name down before going back inside his shack opening the gate.

We pulled forward, and the black iron gate slid shut behind us. I’d never been in community that you had to sign into.
Talk about ritzy.

“Afraid someone poor might get in?” I asked Stuart.

He glanced over at me. “No, this it’s to keep us safe from the criminals of the world.”

“Whatever you say.” I’m sure there was more crime going on here than out in the real world. It just took on a different form. This was the type of place you heard about in the news when some rich guy murders his wife in the family pool.

Everything here seemed secluded and expensive. I figured we’d eventually come to a busy subdivision like the ones they had in Chicago, but at every turn I only saw more trees.

“Welcome to your new home,” Stuart announced, as he cruised down a hill toward a sage-green house bigger than my entire apartment building.
How many people lived here?
He pulled to a stop behind a silver Lexus and exited the car. Fear gripped me, and I was temporarily paralyzed.
We were here
.
Really here.

Part of the front yard was surrounded by a red brick drive that enclosed it like an island. There was even a stone fountain in the center. I wonder if there were
real
fish in the water.

Purple hydrangeas and day lilies lined the side of the house, leading into the backyard. I maneuvered in my seat to see the front of the house where I spotted an old-fashioned swing that had been tied to a low handing branch of tall tree.
I wonder if Elizabeth ever swung on that.
It was foolish for me to assume she’d been here. If he was smart, he kept his wife and mistress in separate compartments.

There were more flowers and bushes on either side of the walkway that led to a multi-paned glass front door. A few white wicker chairs were on either side of it with a small side table with potted plants on it. Everything was so symmetric and neat.

The garage door opened and two cars, a light pink Mercedes convertible and a four door Cadillac pulled out. Within minutes a few Hispanic men began hosing them down. 
How many cars did this family need? They had servants! What? Did I just get smacked back into the eighteenth century?

One of the men greeted Stuart with a fake smile taking his keys. Stuart glanced at me. “Ready? I want to get this car washed.” Stuart asked.

I shook my head no, and he slid back in the driver’s seat. “Give us a minute.” He said to the car washing guy, who nodded and pocketed the keys before jogging back to his friend.

This was way too much for me to take in. A new state, a new house, and now a new family. I felt like my head was going to explode. My hands were cold and clammy.
I hoped I didn’t get sick again.
Stuart leaned against the steering wheel. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t get off on the right foot, but it’s important for you to make a good impression. You can do that, can’t you?” 

No pressure there, boss.
“Sure anything for you, Dad.” I exited the car, stomped up onto the porch, and paused at the front door. I wasn’t going to do him any favors. 

“Okay, here we go,” Stuart said, joining me. He pushed open the door, and we entered a wide foyer with white marble floors. A double staircase leading to a landing, showcased a massive abstract painting hanging on the wall. Its primary color was blue, which clashed with the tan walls. It reminded me of a preschooler scribbling with a magic marker. The staircase split into two and headed up to another level. To the left, I could see a formal dining room, complete with napkins fanned out on the unused plates, like at fancy restaurants.

Stuart sifted through a pile of mail lying on a silver tray atop a tall standing table. A black vase with white and blue lilies sat the end closest to me. I approached them and smelled. A sickening sweet scent filled my nose and reminded me of Elizabeth.

She loved lilies.
Stargazers were her favorite. Whenever we passed them on the street, she would insist upon embarrassing me by picking one or bending over to smell them.
Why was I always mean to her?

Sniffling, I lifted my eyes to the ceiling finding a rather obnoxious crystal chandelier. Knowing my luck, it would fall on me, so I side-stepped from underneath it.

“You can leave your stuff here,” Stuart instructed.

“No.” I clutched my book bag to my chest. I didn’t want to risk losing this one; it was too significant. He stepped closer and ripped it from my hands, then gently set it on the floor near the dining room entrance.

“Trust me. No one is going to throw away your stuff. I promise.” He started down the hall to the right. 

The door’s right there. Just leave. Take the steps and be free. But where would I go?
I picked up my book bag and hooked it over my shoulders and jogged to catch up. It was my bag and belonged with me
.

He didn’t say anything as we walked through a wooden archway leading into a very formal living room, complete with a fireplace and floral designed furniture. A white grand piano sat near the far wall.
I wonder if anyone knows how to play, or if they kept it around for looks.

The blonde woman and two dark-haired teenagers from Socialbook were watching a reality television show on a flat screen television that hung above the mantle. Stuart cleared his throat, and I braced myself.

“I’m home.” Stuart greeted the woman with a quick kiss on the cheek. The kids turned their heads and stared at me. Heat rushed to my face, and I focused on a lavender vase near the fireplace.
What were they gawking at? Maybe my bruise was exposed. Shoot, I knew I should have put more make-up on.

“Everyone, I would like you to meet my daughter, Addison. Addison, this is Lexus, Zach, and my wife Petra.” Stuart draped his arm over the petite blonde woman's shoulder.
Them against me.

“Nice to meet all of you,” I forced out.  An awkward silence followed. Petra glared at Stuart and fled the room, her heels making a loud clicking noise on the hardwood.
Guess she wasn’t happy. Go figure

”Petra.” Stuart ran after her.
This was going great.

“Where you from?” Zach asked, standing. He was a few inches shorter than me.

“Illinois,” I replied.

              “So you a Cubs fan?” he asked.

              “Not really. I like soccer,” I said.

              “I think this is so…
stupid
. I mean I can’t believe daddy would do this to us,” Lexus interrupted, glaring at me from under her light blue eye shadow. 

              “Meet Lexus, our resident drama queen,” Zach introduced, stepping aside. “Just ignore her. I do.” I almost laughed but stopped myself.

Lexus approached me with attitude written all over her. She pushed the kid. “Get lost, brat.”

“I’ll stay if I want,” Zach said.

“Go or I’ll tell mom what you did last night.”

Zach squinted his eyes at her but bounced out the room.

Lexus took her measure of me and made a sneering face. “What are you wearing?”

I wasn’t going to stand here and take lip from this snotty monster. “Excuse me, but last time I checked it was the middle of the afternoon. You might want change out of your pajamas.” I pointed to her bright pink fluffy slippers, and she crossed her arms.

Petra and Stuart walked back into the room.

“Lexus, be nice,” Petra ordered.

“Sorry, it’s very nice to meet you.” Lexus thrust her hand out, and I shook it.
Smooth.

“Likewise,” I said.

              “Whatever.” She wiped her hand on the front of her pink sundress.
How rude. She apparently didn’t know who she was messing with.
She dismissed me and turned toward Stuart. “I’m furious at you Daddy. I can’t believe you hid this from us.”

“Lexus, I already apologized. What else do you want?” Stuart said.

“Get rid of her, of course, and if you can’t do that, then I’ll take your Platinum American Express. I’m going out tonight.”

Was this girl for real?

Stuart handed over his credit card, while Petra kept her eyes glued on me.

“Thanks. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to get ready for.” Lexus sauntered out of the room.

“That went better than I had anticipated.” Stuart turned to Petra, rolling up his sleeves.

              “Did you have a nice flight, dear?” Petra asked, frowning at me. 

              “Yes, Ma’am,” I said.

“Oh, don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old. Just call me Petra. Everyone does.” She smiled but only barely due to her over-plumped lips.

“It was her first one. Can you believe it? Do you even remember your first flight?” Stuart picked up a newspaper that was lying on a glass coffee table and sat down. Petra remained standing.

Stuart pointed a remote at the television, and I watched in amazement as it disappeared up into the ceiling. I wondered what other technological advances a house like this had.

If Petra’s eyes were lasers I would have been burnt to a crisp. She made me feel like I was invading her house, like there wasn’t enough room in this mansion for all of us. This wasn’t my fault, I wanted to tell her. If she wanted to be mad, then be mad at Stuart. But I couldn’t be rude; they
were
letting me stay here.

After a minute or so, I was tired of feeling like a specimen at a museum. “Is there anywhere I can lie down? I’ve had a long couple of days.”

              “What about dinner? Are you hungry? We have… leftovers,” Petra offered.

“No, but thank you.” I wondered what kind of leftovers they had.
Probably not like what was in the fridge at my house, day-old mac 'n' cheese.

              “You haven’t eaten since I picked you up this morning,” Stuart said.

BOOK: Twisted Proposal
12.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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