That Night in August

Chapter One

That Mindy was very unlikely to have biological children. Ever.

Mindy became a shell of herself. Her doctor signed her off from work for a prolonged period. I dropped an expensive bouquet and stunning gold pendant from Tiffany & Co. to her house as a show of support during her first week away from work. I remember how hollow and frail she appeared when she pried the front door of her house open. She invited me in, and we cried together for hours over cups of tea about the injustice of it all.

She grieved for a long while after that. Her gross creature of a husband showed his true colours and left for another woman, but I continued to show my support by stopping by her house every couple of days just to talk or be a shoulder to cry on. I often brought gifts with me. I knew money couldn't buy her happiness, but it was no major loss to my bank account and I hoped it at least helped to an extent.

Then, slowly but surely, the Mindy I knew from the dance school came back to shore. Around six months ago, she decided she was going to adopt. Sure, she cannot have a biological child of her own, but that does not mean she cannot be a mother and provide a loving home.

Mindy's lips tug downward. She raises a hand up to fiddle with a strand of her greying locks. "No news yet. I submitted the papers and they know of my interest, but not a word as yet."

"Mind," I mutter her name and place a well-manicured hand on her shoulder. "You'll be a fantastic foster mum and have the perfect home for any child. The agencies know that. I'm sure you'll hear something in no time."

"I know. I promise I am trying to stay optimistic."

"Besides, I'm always more than happy to help by buying things for the little one. Dad won't mind me dipping into our funds to—"

Mindy chuckles and shakes her head at my proposition, cutting my words short. "Carmen, as much as I appreciate it, you hardly need to spend your family's money on me. I am just fine."

I fight the urge to complain. Many people view me as entitled or spoilt because of my financial status, I know that. But why shouldn't I feel able to splash cash on both myself and the people I care about most?

"Anyway, I need to see the children out and return them to their parents. Have a pleasant afternoon," Mindy says, and I offer her a wave as she retreats from the room with the kids following behind.

My phone vibrates, shuddering against my thigh. I unzip the pocket of my gym leggings and retrieve the rectangular device. A message is visible on the illuminated screen.

'Are you finished at that backstreet shack yet, Carmen? Deidre is having a major disaster before tonight, and I'm, like, gagging for a coffee. Hurry your ass up and come get us!'

The message is from Juliette, or Jules, as everyone calls her—one of my best friends and co-captain of the dance team at college. After teaching my class at the dance school, I often pick Jules and my other friend, Deidre, up and we head out for coffee and some retail therapy.

Today, it seems Jules is extra impatient to get going.

I tap in my response, my acrylic nails rapping against the glass screen of my iPhone.

'Don't be mean about the school! I've offered to pay for renovations hundreds of times, but Mind won't budge. And I'm just finishing up now. I'll swing by and get you both in a tick!'

After hitting send, I lock my phone and head into the changing rooms.

I strip out of my work attire and place the dirty clothes inside my locker. I retrieve my towel from its depths before entering one of the shower cubicles and turning the water on.

When I first started working here, I turned my nose up at the shabby changing facilities. It's nothing like the luxurious shower and bathtub I have at home. But I've grown accustomed to the inconsistent temperature of the water in the showers and the cracking tiles that cover the walls.

Once satisfied that I have washed the sweat from today's class away, I wrap myself in the towel and return to my locker to retrieve a fresh change of clothes. I put on my undergarments and slide into one of my beloved minidresses before slipping my feet into a pair of white flats. I apply a generous amount of perfume and some light makeup. I would normally dry and style my hair after a shower, but the dryers at Mindy's haven't worked for months, so I instead opt to towel dry and then plait my damp hair to one side.

As I admire my reflection in the cracked mirror before me, my phone buzzes again. When I look, I see another message from Jules.

'Come on, Carmen! You're taking, like, forever.'

I grin. Never did I think I would meet someone who typed 'like' in most of their text messages, as well as speaking it a lot. That's Jules, though.

'On my way,' I send in response.

I stuff my dirty clothes and phone into my duffle bag and sweep my eyes across the changing room one more time. Once I am sure I have all of my belongings, I make my way out of the building.

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Author's Note:

Welcome to chapter 1 of my new book, That Night in August. I have been so excited to share this book, but needed to make sure I had everything planned out and had made enough progress to keep up with updates first.

What are your thoughts on this first chapter? What do you think of our main character, Carmen, and her boss, Mindy?

Please remember to comment and hit that little star to vote, it helps me so much as an author. ✨

Amber