studio in the pool house. That way, it wasn’t in the house, and no one could bother me when I was in the deep zone of creating.
Soon enough, construction would be complete, and I could permanently move into the pool house. I’d had plans to move out, be on my own, until we moved here. But now, with this exhibit, I couldn’t afford a place of my own, not when I’d had to pay a substantial amount of rent to lease the spot for my show.
When dinner was over and everyone headed to the living room, I helped Elsa clean up. My mother had told me I didn’t have to do so, but I did. Sandy merely scowled without saying a word as though it were beneath her that she shouldn’t and couldn’t help.
“Miss Charlie, you’re fine. You can go in and spend time with Richard and your mother.” Elsa took the plate from my hand, and I frowned. “Ms. Sandy doesn’t come home often, only since Granny came back from the nursing home.”
I sighed. I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to socialize. I wanted to drown in paint and canvas and oils, not interact with my new blended family.
But I did the right thing and trekked toward the living room. Richard sat next to my mother on the worn brown leather couch with his drink of choice—scotch. Sandy was in the opposite lounge chair with her dry martini. Granny sat next to Sandy in her wheelchair.
My drink of choice was none of the above because liquor made me tipsy, and it made me say things that I couldn’t take back, so I wasn’t about to get drunk, not in front of my new family. Liquor made people honest, me especially.
Just as I sat down, Sandy stood, ready to go, like always whenever I was around. She put up a show just in front of the family—but not for me.
“Charlie, why don’t you follow me to the door and lead me out? I’m not sure where my jacket is.”
I fisted my hands at my sides and gritted my teeth in a tight smile that screamed, I don’t like you, but no one is able to tell because I’m smiling. She knew exactly where her jacket was. I wouldn’t hate her so much if she didn’t have this undying need to make my life uncomfortable.
Richard and my mother eyed me from their seats, probably wondering if I’d cause a scene for a simple request.
Nope. Not playing this game, Sandy. Not looking like the bad guy. Not today.
I followed Sandy out of the living room, down the hall, and to the foyer where she opened the closet and plucked out her jacket.
“Now, since you’ve found your jacket, I guess you don’t need me anymore.” I smiled. “Unless you want me to help you put it on.” And wrap it around your neck in a double knot.
She slipped on her coat and fixed her sleeves, never bothering to look up. “It took me a lot to get you a job at Colby’s.”
“I know, and I can’t thank you enough,” I snapped.
She reminded me every time she saw me, like a broken record. Her look told me that, in appreciation, I owed her my firstborn child.
“I’ve got a little bird on the inside, and it looks like you’re not making a good impression thus far.” Her laugh was cynical, high-pitched, and annoying, like a witch—the Wicked Witch of the West.
Who the hell did she know? How far could her claws reach?
“So, do me a favor and don’t embarrass me and get fired, okay?” She adjusted the strap of her designer purse over her arm, pulling it further up her shoulder. Only then did she meet my eyes.
She gave me a once-over—from the top of my baby hairs on my head to the toes of my fuzzy socks. With one last sour look, Sandy fixed her collar and was out the door without saying good-bye.
All of my muscles tightened.
I hated her more than I hated Brussels sprouts, and damn, I hated Brussels sprouts really bad.
I pushed back my shoulders and lifted up my chin. Results set deep in my gut, I would excel at this job and do my very best to help Connor with the rebranding initiatives, so whoever Sandy knew in the inside could tell her that I’d had a hand in helping save the company. Take that!
Chapter 9
Connor
We were meeting for our first brainstorming session.
I was excited to get