BILLIE'S NIGHTMARE

Chapter 9

I looked into the big screen from backstage with a bottle of water in my hand. My mother was outside being interviewed by someone named Cole Ryte. I have never heard of him in my entire life, but apparently, I had been on his show when I was younger.

"How is little Elizabeth?" he asks my mother.

She gently places some of her blonde hair styled to curls behind her ear before she speaks, the camera narrowing in as if carefully analyzing her gracious features.

"Splendid as always. Growing, might I add." she replied. Every single one of her words carried with grace and poise.

"Of course." he chuckled. "We all remember Elizabeth. The last time she was here, she was quite the joy to be around." he said with a grin, and indicated that the audience watch the screen behind him, showing the interview of when I was last here; when I was 9 years old.

The memory immediately flashed back to me. He was one of the first people that interviewed me and I was nervous. After talking for a few minutes, I got comfortable and was able to speak with him fearlessly. It also explains why I couldn't recognize him. He had grown quite old and looked very different from the person in the clip within only a few years. His brown eyes shone the same, but his blonde hair lost its shine and had a few strands of grey standing out amongst the sunshiny blonde. Lost a lot of weight, too.

I was dressed in a turquoise dress and some sandles, my hair held together by a matching scrunchie into a high ponytail. There was not a single hair that strayed away from the rest, and from what I can remember, that was a very tight ponytail. Nancy made sure to keep my wild hair in place for such or occasions. Or you could say all.

"If it isn't Elizabeth Gracie Carter. Daughter of renowned business man and social media personnel, Christell and Eric Carter. Hi, Gracie. How are you?" Cole asked.

"Hello. I'm good." I reply. I remember that day that I was trying to keep a big girl attitude active. Both my parents sat next to me, including my mother, so I counted every word I said and made sure it was appropriate.

"That's amazing. Well, Elizabeth, as you know, your parents are very successful people. Can you tell us about them?" he asked.

I tapped my finger on my chin as if to think.

"Nope." I reply. My mother tensed next to me, which I hadn't noticed then.

"Oh." He seemed disappointed. "Then who's your favorite? Would you tell us that?" he pushed.

"My dad!" I answered excitedly. I remember the question not being hard for me to answer, so I was happy he had asked.

What I hadn't noticed, though, was that my mother had changed her permanent smile to what seemed like a psycho smile. She let out the most forced yet graceful chuckle I had ever heard. My words had affected her. Why would they? She never cared of me. Even younger me saw that. My dad might be absent, but he spent time with me when he had it. At least those days he did. Nowadays, not so much. Not at all.

"And why is that so?" he asked.

"Because I'm always with my dad. We cracked a deal together last summer and he taught me the whole process of making wine and distributing it across the world. He owns many franchises throughout the country and a few more out of Cali and in Canada, which I am sure you know, and I was honored to have had the opportunity to visit all of them. I love working with him and I hope we work together more often."

"Wait, so you helped him crack a deal?" Cole asked, interest and curiosity flooding his expression. I only nodded.

I smiled at the memory. Between the ages of 9 and 13, I was always with my dad. But the more his business grew, the less time I had with him and the less he allowed me to help him make deals. After my interview that year, news spread across the world that Eric Carter can't negotiate by himself, so he uses his 10 year old daughter to do it for him. One of the reasons I hated interviews, press, public with a burning passion.