I Guess He Hates Me(COMPLETE)

Chapter 1

EDITED 9/19/15

Thank you for checking out my story :) I'll try to update as much as possible!

Warning: there will be some bad language and possible sexual scenes (if I feel like it) I will of course warn you ahead of time for any kind of smut!

Thanks - Tots

The taxi ride from the airport was slow and boring, despite the skyscrapers towering over me and blocking the mid afternoon sun. I was a mess of nerves and excitement, my stomach bubbling at the thought of seeing my mother after so many years. It had been almost three years since I had last seen her, the day of my high school graduation when she bought a plane ticket to come visit me in Australia with my father. I had spent those last three years holding a grudge fueled on a feeling of abandonment over her leaving for New York City right before my twelfth year and now here I was on my way to her door step. I had always wanted to leave Melbourne, and I had never considered moving to the US until my mother had emailed me ( I always ignored her phone calls) the week after my fathers funeral.

My father had battled brain cancer for the last three months of his life. I was sad and bitter about losing the one person I had cared about the most, but I was relieved his suffering had ended and the long nights of no sleep and excessive vomiting were over for him. I could see the pain in his eyes everytime I took him to chemotherapy. After the funeral my mother had emailed me, offering to pay for me to come out to New York to live with her. At first I had been reluctant, but she was paying for my move and I had gotten to the point where I was tired of avoiding her, and tired of turning her away. What if I had woken up one day and I had lost her too? I couldnt even remember the last thing I had said to her.

The taxi pulled up to a high rise building, grey stone and hundreds of windows, with door man and everything. I had the New York City stereotype engraved in my head, from The Devil Wears Prada to Sex in the City. I expected it to be just like an episode of Gossip Girl.

I was 21 and ready for my life to actually begin. I had packed lightly for my move, dead set on starting over completely. My mother was well off due to inheriting her parent's fortune when they had passed away, the reason she had moved to New York. She was born and raised in America, moving to Australia to study abroad, falling in love with my father and never returning to the West, until she left us of course. I grabbed my suitcase and purse and headed to the door man.

"Hi, my name is Lucy Graves, I -"

"Yes Miss Graves! I've been expecting you. My name is Gerald and I'm the day time door man." The older man, who looked to be in his 50's, smiled warmly at me, opening the door to the lobby. "Mrs Earnhart is out right now, but she said to escort you to the 50th floor."

I followed him into the sleek stainless steel doors of the lift and we continued up to the 50th floor. He unlocked the door with what I assumed to be the master key, before handing me a note and bidding me farewell.

"Lucy, you're room is on the third floor, sorry I couldn't be there to greet you. See you for dinner tonight at 8pm sharp!" I held the little note Gerald had given to me for my mother. Her handwriting was so neat and elegant compared to my chicken scratch.

I stepped into the large penthouse apartment, taking in my surroundings. It was a three story apartment, the living room and kitchen one the first floor, along with the dining room, my mothers office and a powder room. Upstairs was the tv room, which compared to the rest of the place had a warmer feel to it, with a large light grey sectional with cream colored pillows scattered across it and a (hopefully faux) animal hide rug across the dark grey wood floors. There were three French doors against one wall that led out to the large balcony that looked over the city, furnished with beautiful patio furniture and lots of potted plants. There was a little, but fully stocked, bar off to the corner. There was a set of double doors that led to my mothers bedroom.