Baggage

{Chapter Ten}

Chapter Ten

Noah gazed intently at the mess before him. Cake batter was splattered on the ceiling, table, floor, and cabinets; about a thousand pots and pans were circling the counter.

"Are you sure you want to go through with the baking?" he asked as he took in his surroundings.

The petite blonde peered up at him and ran a chocolate-drenched hand through her hair.

"Baking relaxes me," she replied, returning to her mixing. She bit her lip as she swirled the spoon around in the tin bowl.

Relaxing? This made her relaxed? The kitchen was an absolute disaster, and Noah thought that it looked as if a tornado had traveled through it.

How was she relaxed?

Noah picked up a washcloth and began cleaning a red mug—her makeshift measuring cup— that he found beside him.

"So, how's your photography assistant job. Shannon says that keeps you really busy."

Violet paused, her back tensing up.

Noah gulped. Had he said something wrong? He filtered through what he had just said and did not find his wording to be offensive in any way.

She smiled sheepishly, grabbing another spoon from the top drawer. Noah noticed the newly broken pieces of the wooden spoon beside her.

"My fake job always prevents me from going to all those important family events. You know—the galas, fashion shows, and brunches. So important."

Noah bit his lip. Should he press on? The girl had carried on with her horrible baking experiment and chose to move past the topic. However, being a nosy bastard, Noah coughed into his left arm, signaling her attention.

"Why do you fake having a job?"

She shook her head, this time refusing to make eye contact with him. "Do you think my parents would accept me if I were unemployed?"

Noah's brows furrowed. Her parents weren't even proud of her fake job. Charlie went on and on about how she spend thousands of dollars to send Violet to school, and Violet became a photographer's assistant. Charlie argued that if her daughter sought after a useless photography career, then it would have been best for her to become the creme dela creme of photographers!

"Your parents love you, Violet," Noah calmly stated. "Why do you think they push you so hard?"

Crash.

Noah blanched as he realized that the bowl went soaring across the room and hit the wall a few feet away from him. What the hell? At first, he thought Violet might've been joking as it was her nature to make a sarcastic or witty remark.

However, he soon realized that sobs were rolling out of the blonde.

"They want another Shannon," she wept, rubbing away the cascading tears with the backs of her hands. The tears and chocolate batter mixed on her face.

Noah left his chair and started walking two steps closer. She halted him, placing her hands up as she tried controlling her breathing.

"No, they don't," he whispered.

She rolled her eyes in response. 

"They're always like 'Shannon did this,' 'Shannon won seventy-thousand awards,' and 'Oh! Shannon made millions this year.' What can they say about me? 'Violet is currently unemployed, homeless, and only associates with three guys who are all crazy about Shannon'! Sometimes I wish I was never born. When Charlie said I was a mistake, boy was she right."