The Billionaire And The Waitress (gxg)

13 - a joke

TODAY, Muse was going to meet Julien Vitale and Grey Hansen.

    Or rather, she'd be meeting Grey Hansen. Her and Julien were already acquainted. 

    Adrien winced, remembering her father splattered head-to-toe in fondue cheese. His voice had been cold and clear as he'd pronounced, You. I want you fired. He'd been embarrassed, and when Julien Vitale was embarrassed, he took his anger out on everyone around him. Muse had been the one to pay for it that day.

    Hopefully dear old Dad had forgotten about that little incident by now.

    Adrien, waiting in her sleek black Porsche outside Muse's apartment complex, glanced up at herself in the rearview mirror. Checking herself for any flaws, any imperfections, any weaknesses. If she showed weakness, her father would exploit it.

    Once, when she'd been seven, she'd been playing soccer at the park with kids from a different neighbourhood (most of the people where she lived were adults, far too old and rich and polished to get roughed up kicking around a muddy ball). In her attempt to steal the ball from an opponent, she got knocked to the ground. It was a pretty vicious bodycheck. Adrien's nose started bleeding.

    She'd had to quit mid-game and run back home. She'd knocked on the front door, expecting one of their maids to open it, and instead she'd come face to face with Julien.

    Eyes watery, she'd said, "Daddy, my nose is bleeding."

    Stone-cold. "I can see that."

    She'd pinched her nose and hopped from foot to foot, but he hadn't moved out of the door frame to let her pass. Instead, he'd looked down at her. Back then, it felt like he'd been ten feet tall, a giant looming over her. 

   "You are a disappointment, Adrien." 

   Blood dripping between her fingers, urgency pumping in her blood, Adrien hadn't registered it at first. A disappointment? Was he right? 

   "You are supposed to be giving injuries, not receiving them." He stepped aside at last and sniffed disdainfully. "Clean yourself up. And remember that."

    From then on, Adrien became more vicious, more violent. She won more games, but she left a lot of kids crying, too. For a while, it was fun. Each time the ball hit the net, she felt the breathless exhilaration of a win. And when someone shoved her, she shoved back harder. It was fun, until it wasn't. Until one day, she gave a boy her age a nosebleed and he rushed toward his mom, who had been watching from the sidelines.

    Usually, there were no parents supervising. But today. Today, some mother had chosen to sit on the bleachers and watch her son play.

    The mother hadn't gotten mad at Adrien. She hadn't cared about Adrien at all. As her son ran towards her, she rifled in her purse and yanked out a wad of tissues. When he reached her, she didn't say, You are a disappointment. She made him lift his head, pinch his nose, and then she patted his bloody upper lip with tissues and gave him a hug.

    Adrien had been in complete shock.

    That was the day she'd realized Julien Vitale wasn't like other parents. 

    That was the day she started hating him.

    A knock on the window startled Adrien back into the present. It was Muse, one hand holding her dress at the chest as she leaned down to peer into the Porsche. 

    "Hey." A wry grin.

    Yesterday, at Muse's apartment, Adrien had sensed the change in Muse's mood like a switch flicked off. It had been so fast she might not have noticed if she wasn't paying attention. But Adrien, though loath to admit it, loved paying attention to Muse. One minute, they'd been flirting, and the next . . . Muse had rushed Adrien out of the apartment.