Amelia Irving, a stressed, broke 24 year old girl. She had just graduated college with a bachelor's degree in criminal law, and had been fired from her job as an assistant at a small law firm in Brooklyn, NY.
After being fired, she tried looking for other jobs. She was hired as a barista at a Starbucks on the corner of a very busy street in New York's Financial District. Interns from big companies constantly came in buying coffees for their bosses, kissing up to them to be selected for pay.
Amelia was at her lowest. The businessmen who ordered coffee there were extremely rude and made Amelia feel like the sole purpose of her existence was to add the perfect amount of milk and sweetener to their coffee, and if they didn't think that it was perfect, she had failed at her life purpose.
In some ways, Amelia agreed with them. She came from a long line of wealthy lawyers. By taking a year off from school, it felt like she had committed a crime. She didn't tell her dad about being fired. She could easily be rehired, since her dad owns a law firm in Manhattan, but she didn't want to seem like a privileged daddy's girl who only got to where she is because of the advantages she was given from coming from a wealthy family.
It wasn't until Amelia's father ordered a coffee at the Starbucks that she worked at, that her father found out about her work status. "Tim?" Amelia called out to the crowd of men in suits waiting for their drinks. A tall, neatly shaved man came forward. Amelia's heart dropped. She could recognize her father by the golden ring on his finger, an heirloom passed down from generation to generation.
"Amelia? What are you doing here?" Her dad asked, puzzled. For a second, Amelia considered lying to him. A simple "It's a part time job," or "I'm doing it for the experience" would've protected her, but the job was draining. Every night, she went home exhausted, barely being able to feed herself and pay rent.
"I got fired," she said, "they said they needed to let some of us go because they couldn't afford to keep paying us." Amelia admitted. Amelia felt shame in her father's eyes, then pity. "Why didn't you tell me? I have a spot open for an assistant back at the firm." Her dad said. "I didn't want to be a burden." She replied. "Well, tell you what. Me and some guys from work are going to Paris this weekend. Join us, and get to know them. You do know you'll probably be working with them in a couple of years," he said, "I gotta go. Call me if you have any questions." Amelia was speechless. She didn't want to get this job because of her father, but she hated working as a barista. She was very hesitant of accepting the gracious invitation, the offer consumed her thoughts for the rest of the day, over analyzing the conversation, searching for hints of manipulation tricks he could use to get something out of her.
Now, Amelia was sitting at the edge of her bed with her phone in hand, with her father's number dialed. All she had to do was press call. One thing that made Amelia nervous was the fact that if they were in Paris, her dad would be drinking with his friends.
Even though he could never admit it, when Amelia was around 11 years old, her dad picked up drinking, due to the stress of his job. He would drink every night, and when her mom complained about it, he would beat her. Over time, it got worse. Her mom didn't even have to do anything, and he would beat her, and sometimes her older brother, Matthew, too. After a while, her mom picked up drinking too. With both parents constantly drunk and fighting, Matthew ended up taking care of Amelia most of the time. After they got divorced, Tim stopped drinking and tried reconnecting with his kids. This was about 2 years ago, when Amelia was 22. Amelia had hoped that he had stopped drinking by now, and that he wouldn't be drinking on the trip.
She finally caved and pressed call. "Hello?" Her dad answers. "Hi. I've decided to come with you guys to Paris." She says. "Great! I'll send a car over tomorrow morning."