I let out an agitated groan as I grudgingly wake up from the loud ringing of my alarm. My head begins to throb and I instantly start to regret last nights drinking and numerous tequila shots. Club hopping with Julia and the few girls I'm friends with is always fun, until we get to the tequila. I quickly slide the cancel button on my phone screen to cease the noise as my head begins to pounder harder. I must be some kind of psychopathic freak to remember to set my alarm to make it to work right? I close my eyes and inhale as a wave nausea hits me. Definitely a psychopathic freak.
An abundance of blinding sunlight pouring through my condo windows greets me as I grudgingly walk to my bathroom. I'm not the type to get really bad hangovers because I know my drinking limit, but maybe I pushed myself a little harder than usual last night. I stare at the frumpy dull complexion and mess of hair that is my reflection in the mirror. If the paparazzi could see me now, they'd have a field day. Every newspaper is always saying I'm the epitome of beauty. I have smooth caramel skin, light brown eyes that are surrounded by long thick eyelashes, lips that are full and pouty, long thick wavy brown hair that cascades to my waist, and a curvaceous figure that gives me more problems than it should. I guess if you leave it up to mass media, you could say I'm gorgeous for a fat girl right? Go figure. I step into the hot shower and begin washing all of last nights partying and sleep off of me. My aching muscles loosen and energy slowly starts to flow through my body. As you can tell I am not a morning person, but duty calls. I'm probably the only one out of New York's highly esteemed socialites that actually has a career outside of charity work. Sure they have "jobs," but working under daddy in the company without any experience really doesn't require any work you know? You just get everything handed to you, and where is the success and value in that? I am one of the hottest and top designers out, and I busted my ass to prove it.
I decide today is going to be a casual day. I have to finish some designs that I have been working on all week for the upcoming Spring collection, and I know I'm just going to barricade myself in my office again. Why waste an elaborate outfit? I let out a long sigh. The Spring collection is one of my babies. When my mother asked me to be her partner two years ago I had one condition; she'd design the Summer and Winter, and I'd design Fall and Spring. It makes sure there is a new creative brain every season and that we are taking the time to rest between each collection. To be honest, the shit will mentally fry you if you overwork yourself and then what? You'll have a shitty line. Our success is proof of this. My eyes land on a bulky black sweater and I instantly smile. Fashion is always about comfort in my eyes. Tight dresses, suffocating shape wear, and ill fitting items are boring and intolerable. How do you plan on pulling off something fashionable while you're constantly adjusting yourself? I put on the thick sweater, a pair of black and white checkered ankle pants, and a pair of black loafers. I'm not an everyday heel wearing kind of girl like my friends, and I'd honestly probably have a broken body part every month if I did. I quickly begin my everyday makeup routine and follow it with copious amounts of mascara. Special occasions are when I do the absolute most with my makeup, but that's about it. Nothing more, nothing less. I put on my Cartier watch and my Chanel earrings and adjust my annoying bra. I look at myself in the mirror and fall in love with the look I'm going for. Simple yet fashionable. I brush the tangles and knots out of my loosely curled hair, grab my orange Telfar tote, black coat, and head out of the closet. Walking down my picture filled hallway is soothing as I glance at the familiar faces of my family and close friends. I'm not an introvert, but growing up the way I did definitely made it easy to weed out who is for you, and who is faux. The relationships I have now are with people that matter. I enter my work den to look at my designs scattered all over my desk. Being part owner of Cara Bella Designs has it's perks. I don't have a specific time to be at work, but I always seem to go before the shop opens. It would be unprofessional if I didn't right? I hear the familiar ringing of my iPhone and see my father's picture pop up.
"Hey dad," I answer enthusiastically. I love my father very much. He's honestly someone I wish to be like when I am his age. My father, Ken Lehew, is CEO of the multimillion dollar company Lehew Enterprises. He has his hands in everything from construction to owning hotels, but outside of all of that he is just a genuinely good human being.
"Good morning Cara. How's my princess," my father asks and I roll my eyes. He can never give the princess bit up can he? I'm 24 and out of his pockets for Christs' sake.
"I'm doing well dad. How are
"I'm doing fine. Are you meeting your mother and I for breakfast?"
"Of course I am. I'll finish up in the den and be on my way."
"See you soon Cara. I love you honey."
"I love you too dad," I smile hanging up my cell. If you can't already tell, I have a healthy relationship with my parents. They are the only thing I have left after the accident from two years ago, and I can't be more thankful that we got through that shit together. It took us a long time to get back to ourselves and continue living our lives, but we did it. My eyes begin to sting as I think about the one thing that caused it all to happen. Stop it Cara, I scold myself. Thinking of that accident is going to ruin my day, and today I want to just not think about the darkness of the fucking past. I put the design portfolio in my tote and make my way out the door. As I walk to the elevator I can't help but feel like I'm being watched. I mean sure it's eight on a Friday morning and people are leaving the building for work, but it feels like I have eyes on me. When I turn around nobody is there but one of the building housekeepers. I shake the panic off and enter the elevator. Maybe I am just a little jittery because you know, psychopathic freak here. When I make my way outside I can't help but notice this bulky black Suburban with heavily tinted windows across the street. I've never seen it in this area before and I've been living in the Wilshire building for three years. Suddenly there are flashes of light and I instantly know it's the paparazzi. Jesus do these vultures not sleep?! I begin walking down the sidewalk and am relieved once I see my driver pull up with the car.
"You are just on time," I say politely. Winston has been driving me around for ages and is a good family friend at the point.
"Good morning Miss Carina," he says happily. He opens my door and as I enter I notice the black Suburban is gone. I assume it must've been someone's company car or something, so the worrisome thoughts quickly leave my mind.
***
As Winston pulls up to the Dillard building my parents live in, the paparazzi is awaiting my arrival. He opens my door and I exit giving them a few smiles and waves as I enter the residence. One thing that I have learned about these little fuckers is that they'd just go on a hungry rampage if you don't give them something, and the last thing I want is to be hounded on a Friday. I push the call button for the private elevator, and as I wait I notice the same bulky black Suburban that was just in front of my building. I stare at it hoping someone would emerge from the heavily tinted windows, but I see no one, nothing. The elevator doors open and I enter quickly pressing the button for my parents penthouse.
The same black Suburban in 2 places? That's extremely odd. I think to myself. The elevator doors slide open and I'm welcomed to the embrace of my parents home. Privacy has its perks in their case. I smell the lovely aroma of bacon in the air and my mouth begins to water. I am not one of those big girls always chasing a diet. I eat pretty clean and work out on a regular basis, but I draw the line at sacrificing bacon. I exit the elevator and jump when my mother pops out to embrace me.
"Oh darling how I've missed you," my mother says earning a few chuckles from myself as I hug her back. I see my mother everyday and yet she finds some odd new way to miss me, but that's Isabella for you. She is so over the top, but I love her for just that, no matter how much she drives me up the wall.
"Mom you will see me in the office after your meetings. I'm sure you'll miss me then as well," I say teasingly. My mother and I have a special bond. We were always close, but after that accident we became closer because she took it just as hard as I did, maybe even harder. She is the glue that holds our family together, and I can't help but pity her for that. Who's shoulder does she cry on when she can't hold herself together? Who does she go to when she is tired of being strong for everyone? Who takes care of her?
"Cara are you alright," my mother asks me breaking my train of thought.
"Uh yeah mom. I'm just really hungry," I say avoiding her worried gaze and making my way towards the table. "Where's dad," I ask as I begin putting some scrambled eggs on my plate.
"He's in that damn office. I swear Cara your father has become such a workaholic this past year," she fusses. I see the stress flash across her face and can't help but feel the same way. One thing we both would hate is to lose my dad.
"Mom is everything okay?"
"Yes dear. It's just this new partner your father has is very... unique to say the least. He has all these standards and demands. Very anal if you ask me. I'm sure you've heard of him in the papers. Matteo Carson?"
"Uhh yeah. 'The Man Who Can Never Be Convicted' is what the papers called him after he was found innocent after being accused those gruesome murders. Why would dad do business with him?"
"Well honey, minus his alleged background, Matteo is a very successful and self established businessman. He turned his fathers company around within two years of taking over, and has continued to make a name for himself all on his own."
"Well I'm insulted," I hear my father say. I turn and he has his hand over his heart as if he's in real pain. I laugh at the sight. My father was probably good looking when he was young, but his once brown hair is now salted with gray hairs and smile lines are around his face and eyes. He doesn't look elderly, but distinguished.
"Well nobody is better than you honey. We all know that," my mother says honestly, and she's right too. My father took my grandfather's company and turned it inside out, practically starting from scratch. He's a great businessman and capitalizes on a lot of great partnerships with other companies. Maybe that drive is what he saw in Matteo and it inspired him to go into business with him. I look over at my parents and notice how much love they hold for each other in their eyes, and instantly wish I could love someone as much as that. It's inspiring. My parents have been married for 34 years. I was a complete surprise after they celebrated their 10 year anniversary. An oopsie if you ever heard of one. We ate breakfast and talked for a while about the upcoming collection and a few deals my father is considering. When I finished, I called Winston to have him bring the car around.
"Oh honey I sure hope you find someone to make you happy. You are 24 and aren't getting any younger," my mother says to me. Her and my dad got married when they were twenty so you can see why she is so pushy on my finding someone. She always says this when I'm leaving and I'd always say what I knew would stop the conversation.
"Well I have two someone's right here who make me happy," I say giving her and my father a tight hug. "I love you. I'll see you at the office," I tell her as I make my way onto the elevator. Once the doors close I let out a long sigh. If only I did have someone.