ISABELLA
Sofia mumbled from the couch, "Why did you apologize to the rich man?" as I prepared a glass of water for her.
"He's not just a rich man, Sofia," I responded, doing my best to remain composed, but it was clear she didn't fully grasp the situation and its implications.
Her head slowly peeked over the back of the couch as I stood at the sink. "Who is he then?" She paused briefly, and in an instant, she was across the living room and in the kitchen. "Is he your boyfriend?" she asked.
"No, Sofia! He's my boss," I exclaimed. Her mouth dropped open, and her hand instinctively covered it as she realized the gravity of the situation.
"Oh my God," Sofia whispered behind her hand. "I'm sorry, Bel." I shook my head, refusing her apology.
"Just get some sleep. Here's your water," I said, handing her the glass and assisting her back to the couch before heading to my own room.
As I paced around my slightly messy room, I couldn't help but think about the various scenarios that might unfold tomorrow. I had a feeling it wouldn't be an easy day.
In an attempt to distract myself, I started picking up clothes strewn across the floor, tossing them into the woolen laundry basket. My vanity had accumulated a few water bottles, which I swiftly disposed of in the trash.
Finally, I took care of the pile of papers scattered across my desk, straightening them up. They had been left there since my interview earlier in the day.
After I completed cleaning up my bedroom, my cellphone unexpectedly rang, causing me to jump. I located my phone beneath my purse, noticing that it was my mother calling.
"Hello, mamá," I whispered gently into the phone, making an effort to avoid disturbing my intoxicated sister, as I was in no mood to deal with any more of her problems.
"Where's your sister, Isabella?" My mother's voice was filled with concern, as both my sister and I were instructed to provide updates on our whereabouts.
I let out a sigh into the phone, fully aware of the consequences that would follow if I told her the truth. Instead of carrying the burden of lying, I decided to come clean.
"She's on my couch, sleeping off the insane amount of alcohol she drank." There was a moment of silence on the call, with my mother not even audibly breathing.
After another pause, I realized it had been too long since my mother had spoken. "Mamá?" I used my sweetest voice, hoping to help her overlook her anger.
"Sofia is in big trouble, especially when your father finds out about this," my mother's anger was palpable in her tone as she continued, "you're all there for your futures and your careers! Not to spend every day drunk!" I chose not to defend my sister, as I knew it would only escalate my mother's anger, and I honestly didn't have the mental capacity to deal with this right now.
"I got hired at Petrov Corporations today," I tried to divert my mothers attention away from the fact her twenty-eight year old daughter was day drinking before thirty.
"Really, my Bella?" She gasped. "What's the pay like there?"
I sank onto my bed, realizing that my mother still cared about the same things she did when I was back home in Texas.
"It's alright, mamá. Nothing too crazy," I lied. Fifty dollars an hour was quite exceptional, more than what the average person makes, but I didn't want to satisfy her financial expectations.
"I'm proud of you, Isa," I smiled at her words, even though they weren't entirely genuine. They were all I had ever wanted to hear from my family.
My sister has been my greatest source of support since we were little girls. Given that we were best friends from a young age, our supportive bond developed naturally.
"Thank you," I cleared my throat quietly, attempting to suppress the tears welling up in my eyes. "Mamá, I have a long list of things to do to prepare for tomorrow."
"Okay, hon." After a moment, she ended the call, finally giving me the chance to release a deep sigh. I closed my eyes, holding back the tears, determined not to let them fall.
You're okay, Isabella. You're okay.
I repeated the words in my head over and over, doing my best to believe them.
After a moment of collecting myself, I got up from my bed and found a comfy pair of pajamas to put on after my much-needed shower.
As I walked past the couch, I made sure Sofia was still covered up and sleeping. Despite the stress she had caused me tonight, and the potential risk to my job, I still cared about her and her well-being. I planted a gentle kiss on her head and continued on my way to the bathroom.
The water heated up almost instantly, so I swiftly undressed and stepped into the shower. Even though I desperately needed this shower, I had some notes to catch up on that I didn't get to finish, so it had to be a quick one.
🂱
"Isabella!" I heard my sister shout from the living room as I was wrapping a towel around myself. I hurriedly rushed to her, hoping she was okay.
"What?" I scanned the room, not noticing anything unusual. "What's wrong?"
"Someone's knocking on the door," my sister informed me. I glanced down at my body, only covered by a small towel, but decided to answer the door anyway.
As I opened the door, I realized it was just the delivery man, Jerry. "Hi, Miss Leighton!" he greeted me with a bright smile.
"They have you delivering at this time?" I returned his kind smile, glancing over the paper and clipboard he held out in front of me.
He raised his free hand and said, "It's only 7:30." I shrugged my shoulders, realizing I had lost track of time.
"I haven't ordered anything," I said, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"This was marked as a gift," he explained, tapping the blank line on the paper. "I still need a signature for the delivery, though."
I didn't want to waste any more of his time, so I swiftly signed my name across the line. Without hesitation, he pulled a white box and a bouquet of flowers out of his bag.
"Thanks, Jerry," I offered another quick smile before closing the door and examining the box as I made my way to the couch.
Placing the white box on the coffee table, I examined the bouquet of flowers which happened to be my favorite, tulips.
Pink tulips.
"Do you have a secret admirer?" Sofia's voice was muffled as half of her face was pressed into the couch cushion.
"Shut up, Sof," I replied, placing the flowers on the table after my search for a note was unsuccessful.
I opened the white box, only to discover another white box inside, this one adorned with a silver Apple logo on the front.
Was this...? It couldn't be...
When I turned it over, the bold print read:
MacBook Air
I gasped as I realized that someone had bought me a laptop, but the question remained: who could it be from?
"Mr. Rich Boss seems to like you," my gaze quickly shifted to Sofia as she figured out the sender before me.
My eyes returned to the MacBook box resting on my lap, and without a second thought, I made the decision not to open it.
"I can't take this," I whispered, mainly speaking to myself.
Sofia suddenly sprung up from the couch. "Are you joking?!" She exclaimed, staring at me with wide eyes, as if I had just committed a crime.
"No, I'm not joking."
"It's a gift!" She argued, not realizing that I had already made up my mind.
I shook my head, unwilling to argue about it with her. Standing from the couch, I picked up the box and carried it to my room, placing it on my desk to keep it safe until I could return it to Mr. Petrov.
"Take care of the flowers, please!" I shouted from my bedroom. "Okay!" I closed my door and rested my back against it, attempting to process the whirlwind of emotions that this crazy day had stirred up.
After a moment, I slipped out of my towel and into a comfortable matching pajama set. I stared at myself in the mirror, brushing out my long, dark hair.
Despite the fact that it was practically winter in New York, my tan skin remained unchanged. No matter where I was, my bronzed complexion seemed impervious to the changing seasons.
I returned my brush to its place on my white vanity and pulled my hair into a loose ponytail. My bed had remained unmade due to the morning rush, so I quickly got in, pulling the covers over my body.
I hoped that tomorrow would be smoother and far less hectic because my brain couldn't possibly handle any more stress. Moreover, I harbored the hope that tomorrow wouldn't be my last day at Petrov Corporation...