Call It Business ( Book 3 of 'Call It' Series )

Chapter 47 | A Gorgeous Mess

Macy knew the diary would be a chaotic adventure when she took a glimpse of the elegant writing of the black pen altering itself into the harsh carvings of letters from time to time as if the words were heavier, harsher, and angrier.

Still, it was the first time she'd ever read something directly from Samantha Dawson's mind.

Despite not being ready for that mystery even after a lifetime, she had an odd sense of owing justice to the woman she had known as her mother. She hoped her ghost would disappear as most ghosts usually do after this unfinished business was completed.

However, it felt far from getting completed with every word falling from Mark's mouth:

"I used to be told I had a destructive tendency to crave for things I cannot have. Whether it was a bracelet from Tiffany's or a simple acknowledgment of a decent greeting from the glittering people visiting my workplace. I daydreamed the day I'd risen from that reception desk and sat at the same dining table with them. I saw it so clearly whenever I close my eyes that the disappointment hit harder every time the reality slashed across me with a credit card extended in my direction accompanied by their empty gaze that looked through me as if I was invisible. As if I was just a machine that was just there to keep their reservations on the line and check their payments.

I felt like them.

I wasn't at their table, and they didn't even consider me worthy of it.

Today that changed, not quite in the way I dreamt before.

The thing is I moved to the city with nothing but acting on my mind. To become an actress. Haven't I always been good at pretending to be someone I'm not? At least, that was what most told me. After five months of running from audition to audition, I seem to pass one without even knowing I was up for it. No, it's not for the television or a bigger screen. It's for private entertainment.

I met her at a glittering alley, where I window shop every Thursday. It became quite a hobby to imagine myself in those voluminous gowns and furs, in which I would climb down the stairs to face the people, who'd avoid looking at me at the spa as if having a conversation with me could ruin their day.

There was something different about her. Although she never paid any attention to me during the countless times we met in the spa, she recognized me in front of that boutique filled with things I couldn't afford and even went as far as calling me by my name, which I was afraid I'd forgotten since it's been so long since someone said it.

"Samantha, right?" Audrey asked to be sure, lowering the sunglasses down on her nose while her red lips curled into a mischievous smirk, "Have you left the spa early today for some shopping?"

I did. I didn't expect her to notice it.

After she got her confirmation, she complained about her friend, who canceled their date at the last minute and invited me to have a cup of coffee with her (She used a different, much more lyrical word for it that I cannot remember for the love of it). As much as I was aware of how strange this all was, I didn't turn her down. How was I supposed to turn her down? After all, this has been all I wanted since I was a little girl. To share the same table with them.

The motivation behind the gesture revealed itself at half of the cup.

"I might say yes." Audrey waved her cup, and a giant, emerald ring glittered on the index finger of her hand, "I want to say yes, but first, I want to be sure that he wants me, not my money. I was actually wondering if you can help me with it."

My eyes followed her finger with an involuntary, embarrassing appreciation, "Me?" I asked, stupefied, "As in telling you if he comes to the spa with someone else?"