Gone Country

*Prologue*

Piles and piles of orders, hot demands, and of course every gossip magazine Macy left for me to see. I tossed the magazines in my wastebasket under my desk. The last thing I wanted to see was how I supposedly stopped by another man's home late at night for a rendezvous, when in reality, I was visiting a guy friend, whose wife was there with him and their baby. I'm seventeen, young, and vulnerable. I pretty much have a target on my back being Phillip Jackson's, the top male actor, daughter. 

It's not easy being a successful boutique owner either. I have four boutiques already open. Two were here in New York, and the other two were in California. It was tough doing this mostly on my own, but it's what I wanted to do. Thankfully because of my brains, I was able to graduate early, pursue my dreams, and become as successful as I am today. 

But with success comes a ton of paperwork and orders you have to fill out through your lunch time. Who needs food when you can indulge in the goodness that was hard work. My stomach growled in protest to that. Internally, I told it to shut up and leaned back in my office chair, looking over the paper work for the arrival of summer clothes. 

Fashion designers from all over the world do business with me, but the Paris summer collection was always beautiful. I bought many units of clothing from them all year round, but summer was when both of our companies really start profiting. 

My best winter apparel came from a designer in Alaska named Joan. She was a young business woman like myself, only a couple years older, and I make sure the cutest things in their winter catalogs are on my rack. Their summer collection, not so much. The only designers I allow to sell their products in my store are the friendly ones. I keep in contact with every designer who ships their product here, they're practically my best friends. 

I looked over the inventory list, using it as a guide to fill my orders out properly. I'm selling stylish tank tops like their going out of style, so I wrote down an extra unit, just in case. Flip flops were a must have, I made sure to get those. Sundresses were all the rage, along with cut off jean shorts. I needed to order them all! 

A knock made me look up to see who was at my glass door. I brightly smiled when I saw Niona there holding a fresh caesar salad in plastic carrying container that came from across the street from the Italian restaurant no doubt. Without a second thought, I motioned her in. She was probably just getting out of school, it was her last day before graduation. 

"Bought you lunch" she chirped. She happily skipped over and placed the salad on my cedar desk, along with my usual Aquafina water. 

Niona was one of the most beautiful girls in the whole world, and I'm not just saying that because she's my best friend. She had long black hair, a fit body, and looks that would make the most gorgeous super model jealous. I tell her all the time that I'm jealous of her. I think it's mostly her grey eyes that make her beautiful, that and her spunky personality.

"I was dying for food! Thank you!" I gratefully groaned. I popped the lid off the salad and grabbed the thousand island dressing packet from inside. 

"Ugh! Inventory" she said with a scrunched up nose. I felt the exact same way about the stuff, but it was worse when you had to do it for four stores. I would be here till nightfall. Thankfully I didn't have to send the orders through until the end of the month. "You eat, I'll help." I thanked her when she took the papers from me.  "Where are your glasses? You're going to strain your eyes" she scolded.

After my mother died a couple of years ago, Niona thought she would fill my mother's shoes and make sure I took care of myself. I couldn't have asked for a better friend, but I swear she was such a mother sometimes. Still, I opened the desk drawer in front of me, grabbing my black rimmed glasses and slipping them onto my face. 

"When are you going to order more yoga shorts? You know it's the main thing girls are wearing now, right?"

I gave her a 'duh' look, then went back to coating my salad in dressing. "They're on the list brainiac. Do you need my glasses?"

She hit my arm, not liking my rude attitude. I smiled to myself while unraveling the plastic around my plastic fork. Life for me wasn't easy at all, especially since the evil wicked witch of the west was now my father's fiancée.

"I love her" he says. "She loves me" he always adds. Dad, she's a twenty one year old who loves to blow money. It's not you she loves, it's the stuff you let her buy. I wish I could tell him that or just catch her admitting to it once. He just doesn't understand, he's too blinded to understand. My father was very handsome and could have any girl he wanted, unfortunately he was choosing Chanel. I rather him marry Niona than Chanel, and that was an awkward situation to be in.

Just thinking about Chanel made me cringe. You won't find a single thing in my closet made from Chanel, and I know that she has nothing to do with their products, it's just the name of the brand made me shiver in disgust because it was her name. "You have that look" Niona suddenly laughed. "You're thinking about destroying Chanel again, aren't you?" she teased.

I stabbed my plastic fork into my salad. "I don't know what your talking about" I growled. She smirked, reaching over and patting my head as if I was an upset child. I couldn't help it, Chanel just brings out the worst in me. I shoved a bite of salad in my mouth and sulked over my desk. I crunched on the lettuce leaves, croutons, cheese, and chicken, all while my red walls in my office hyped up my anger. I know it sounds mean, but sometimes I wished a bus would run over her. 

"Chill your hot pockets..." I gave Niona an odd look. "I'm sure it's just a phase your dad is going through" she told me, plenty of honesty and assurance in her voice to almost convince me. I just knew my dad was serious this time, and Chanel was ultimately going to break his heart.

"She's going to hurt him Ni, I know she is and it's going to devastate him. He's fragile after losing my mom." Niona quietly agreed with me. My dad was madly in love with my mother. when she was tragically killed in a car accident, I was the one that later encouraged him to date again. What a stupid dimwit I had been.

Suddenly my food didn't taste well, I shoved it away in disgust. "I think I'll finish up work before eating. You should get home Niona, you know how your mother gets." She snorted in reply, handing over the paper work because she knew I was right. Her mother was a worry wart, always fussing over her little princess. I thought it was sweet, Niona thought it was annoying. You think differently when you don't have your mother anymore. 

"Fine" she grumbled. I smiled as she leaned over and embraced me in a hug. "Love you gorgeous, I'll talk to you later."

I shooed her off, reminding her that she had to work in the morning when she went to leave. She grumbled things under her breath, but we both knew she liked working for me. I turned my attention back to the paperwork, picking up where she left off on the inventory list and ordering sheets. It was definitely going to be a long day.

I persevered through it like the strong young woman I am. Around eleven at night I finished all the orders, signed my employee's paycheck's for tomorrow, and went throughout the store and tidied up. As I looked over the racks of clothing, shelves of shoes, sunglasses holders, I breathed in the scent of my store which still had the radiance of my favorite peach incense. This was my place, my accomplishment, and it never would've happened without my father or my mother's dream. I love him more than anything, it's why I want to protect him, to make sure Chanel doesn't use him and then toss him to the curb when she's finished. 

I leaned over a clothing rack, just taking a moment to look over the snazzy sparkling gold streamers soaring across the purple ceiling, connecting to the lime green chandelier that all went amazing with the green leopard print wallpaper and fuzzy rug in the center of the room. The purple chairs by the window where you could drink your espresso, latte, ice coffee, or any beverage while you waited for your best friend to come strutting out the dressing rooms nearby to show off the outfit she adored, they were neatly pushed up to the table, waiting for tomorrow so they could be used again.

Still, all the success seemed wrong. I wanted to do this so my dad and my mom would be extra proud of me. Now that I'm here, realizing how much work and effort it is, I miss school and being a teenager the most. I wanted to be normal, but that seemed like a curse word in my family. Gently, I pulled my purse onto my shoulder, I had grew weary of holding it and needed to get my car keys anyhow.

I stuffed my hand in the usual pocket of my purse that I stored my keys in, immediately realizing then that I had decided to walk here this morning and that I didn't have my car. Walking home at eleven at night alone wasn't the best idea in New York. I didn't want to make my father come pick me up, he would just scold me for not thinking ahead, so I went with walking. 

I closed up the shop without my keys, shivering slightly as the chilly smog New York night air blew up against my loose designer maxi skirt. The sooner I get home the better. I put my keys in my purse and escorted myself up to the side walk that headed to the left. The condo my father rents was only a block away, hopefully I could make it there without getting mugged.

Tightly I hugged my purse to my chest, scurrying off through the brightly lit streets that had people crowding everywhere. A lot of New Yorkers never smile, so I always make it my mission to smile a little bit. With a grin, I walked onward, weaving in and out of people to make sure I didn't get bumped. 

One thing I love about the city is definitely the lights. The streets were never dimly lit, there were always lights to give you comfort, except for in a couple of alley ways you do not want to go down. Even with the fear of being mugged you still had plenty of witnesses around who may see where the mugger disappeared to. New York wasn't all about the lights, criminals, or the fame. New York was just about the people who make it that way. 

A honk or two wasn't unusual around here, but someone with a familiar voice shouting, "Charlotte!" was something only I could understand right now. I looked to the streets where cars were zooming by like always. "Over here!"

I looked the the sound of the voice which was just a little further behind me. I turned my direction and practically ran towards the black limousine where Jives was there smiling. "Jives! Thank goodness you're here!"

He laughed as he walked around the limo and opened the backseat door for me. I thanked him, carefully getting inside and squeaking when my father surprised me by his presence. "Daddy" I breathed. "You look nice."

He was dressed in a full out tux, complete with a bow tie and a soft smile. My dad was quite handsome, especially in a tuxedo. His golden blond locks were something I inherited. His glittering Caribbean sea blue eyes were something I had always admired. They didn't look happy as they normally looked right now which raised suspicion in me. 

"I'm attending a banquet with Chanel in just a few moments, I just went home to change and saw your car was there but you weren't. I got worried and had Jives drive me to see if you were still at the boutique" he explained. He then took my hands in his, his eyes becoming full of concern and mirrored a little sadness. 

"What's wrong?" was the first thing I asked. Obviously my first thought was Chanel had done something to him, of course I didn't accuse her right away. I would give her the benefit of the doubt until he proved it was her fault, in which I already knew it was.

"I also need to tell you something" he sighed. "It's about all of these things circling about you in these magazines kiddo."

Was Chanel behind all of that? Is this why he was so upset? Could she possibly finally be out of our lives for forever? Little did I know that she was in fact going to be out of my life, but only mine for a while. "Chanel and I think it's best if you leave New York for a little while.."

I scoffed in disbelief, looking away from him. I couldn't believe what he was saying, I was his daughter for crying out loud! "You mean Chanel thinks it's best."

He reached over, brushing back my bangs. The gesture made me return my focus back onto his face. "Please Charlotte, can you please just accept us?"

Bravely, I shook my head in response. She didn't make me happy, mother's were suppose to do that. All she did was make my life miserable. Chanel put me down and called me low class. I tell him exactly what she says, he goes to her to seek answers, and she bats her eyelashes and makes herself seem innocent.

"Charlotte, it's my life..."

"And you're an idiot to waste it with her" I muttered under my breath. He leaned back in his chair, shocked  by my harsh words. I was just tired of it, I hadn't actually meant to say them. "I'm sorry" I quickly apologize. 

"I love her..." Naturally, I rolled my eyes. The last thing I wanted to hear was the whole I love her speech and how I needed to accept the fact that this was the way it was now. "We both think that your behavior has been inexcusable, and if it doesn't turn around, I'm going to have to take away your boutiques."

He was going to take away the one thing that brought me happiness? Why me? Why did I have to lose my mother and get stuck with an evil witch to take her place? "Dad, I don't care where you send me, as long as it's far away from her. You don't believe me when I tell you what cruel things she says to me, and honestly I can't take it anymore..."

"Charlotte" he said with sympathy in his voice. I shook my head and crawled up to the front, rolling down the privacy screen separating Jives and us. 

"You've chosen her over me" I told my father. "Don't expect me to be there when she breaks your heart." 

I wiggled my way over the front seat, joining Jives up front. He rolled the privacy screen back up for me and even locked it when I asked him to. My father knocked on it, ordering Jives to roll it down, but Jives and I had an understanding. We both didn't like Chanel Davis, and never would. I leaned my head on the tinted, slightly cold, glass window, letting tears fall from my eyes as we neared the condominium. 

Like the supportive fellow he is, Jives gave my head a pat and told me things were going to be just fine. I moved over and cried on his shoulder, letting all my frustrations out at once. I was ready to leave, I wanted to leave, but I knew I would miss my father no matter how much I didn't want to.