They Call Her Love | ✔️

7: They Call Her a Millionaire

I didn't tell my parents. I never spoke a word to Faith. I made Darcy and Jagger swear on our friendship to keep their mouths shut.

The first thing we did was head over to Jagger's house. When your best friend's mom is the most sought out lawyer in the entire state, you learn a thing or two about the law when it comes to money.

"Mom! Mom! Mom!" Jagger shouts repeatedly through his three story house.

"Don't yell!" I warn him.

"Can you guys slow down?" Darcy grumbles as she struggles to catch up to us, running in her three inch heels.

Jagger turns around and laughs at her. "No one told you to wear stripper heels to dinner."

She scowls as she braces herself to walk up the few steps it takes to get to Jagger's kitchen. "They're not stripper heels, they're vintage Manolo's and I'm not about to scuff them, out of all places, at your house."

"I'm on Jagger's side with this one," I say to her, pacing up to Jagger and following him down the hallway.

It smells of their signature citrus freshener, a scent I know the housekeepers drown the entire house with. Passing the living room and heading straight to Carol's office, the three of us race to the double wooden doors but come to a complete stop once we've reached the entrance.

I nudge Jagger with my shoulder. "Well, open it!"

"What if she's in the middle of a conference call or something?" He asks, obviously afraid of what lay behind the closed doors.

"That's why you should knock first," I tell him.

"Why do I have to?"

"Because she's your mom, duh," Darcy smacks her gum as she finally approaches us. "I swear I don't remember your house ever being this big."

"But you guys are her favorites," He hisses back. "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," I quickly dismiss it.

"Mm, she kinda does," Darcy says, not helping.

I swallow a chunk of air and step forward. "Fine, I'll do it."

I hesitate before raising my fist to the door and giving it a couple faint knocks. There wasn't anything scarier than interrupting Carol during her work. What they said about lawyers was true - they had no heart. Cold and lifeless. During the day, it was court this and paperwork that. Even with her only child, Jagger, she was all about business.

Maybe it was because she didn't have daughters and she saw the two of us as her own, that Carol was sweet to us. But it was apparent that she's the worst person to mess with.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified of her.

"Come in," Her voice is stern from the other side.

The three of us braced each other as I open the door. It creaks and a rush of cold air lets itself out. I take a step in, the wooden floor groaning underneath my sneakers.

"Carol?"

I peek my head through to find the middle aged woman sitting behind her desk flipping through papers with pens sticking out of the bun resting on top of her head. Beneath her eyes are bags and wrinkles that are the result of sleep deprivation and though it's already ten o'clock at night, she's still bearing a very professional pant suit. Her eyes peer above the thin framed glasses perched at the bridge of her nose and she does a double take when she realizes it's me.

"Oh, Love, sweetheart," She greets. "What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here this late at night?"

I step into the office that is just above freezing in temperature and allow Jagger and Darcy to strut in behind me.