Enigma (2 page)

“Kate, darling, are you okay? You aren’t wearing any makeup, not even a dash of mascara. Oh, look at you.” She wrinkled her nose and poked at my pale face.

“Mom, don’t fuss with her. She hates it. Just leave her alone. If she wants to look that way, then let her face the consequences,” Heather said.

“Heather, you should look out for Kate.”

“I have been, Mom. But I’ve lost count of the times I’ve told her about the importance of vitamin D. If she didn’t sulk around the house like a vampire, then perhaps she would’ve heard of that yellow thing in the sky.” Heather smiled at me with pure evil hidden behind her shiny, veneered teeth. My mother shot her a disapproving look.

“I’m not fussing; I just want Kate to make the best of what she has,” she said, while pouting at me in an attempt to offer me sympathy for my plain looks.

I hung my head and placed a napkin on my lap. My confidence was already low and it had just taken another hit. I’d accepted early on in life that it was stupid to consider myself anything but average, especially when standing next to Heather, whom I avoided as much as possible. It was Brett who had reassured me that I didn’t look like Frankenstein’s bride; he said I looked like a normal girl and there was nothing wrong with that.

I took a sip of juice and looked around the new kitchen, which looked pretty much the same as all the others. It had all the usual features and marble countertops—predictable really. Heather eyed me while stirring her smoothie. She was just as predictable as anything else in the kitchen and was quick to pass another unwanted comment.

“Please tell me you’ve unpacked some of your halfway-decent clothes. For your sake,
do not
go dressed like a boy for your first day in college. If you have any hope of joining a sorority, then put some makeup on your pale face and treat your feet to some heels. You can’t rely solely on our family name to get you by; you have to make an effort.” Heather flicked her hair away from her eyes. She had a degree in deceit and honors in manipulation, although my mother thought every word that came out of her mouth was the absolute truth. But I knew different.

I refused to give Heather the satisfaction of even looking over at her. She would be itching for a reaction from me and as much as I wanted to give her hell for being so mean, I refrained, knowing that ignoring her would annoy her more.

I walked over to Nanny Flo and stood behind her, avoiding her silver gray hair, which was wound up into a neat bun. I bent down to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Flo had been my ally since I was born; she was my role model and had been nothing but an inspiration to me. Every time I felt low, I’d think of her smooth chocolate brown eyes looking at me, and would remember her telling me what really mattered in life. She insisted that our fate and happiness was guided by our own destiny, and that anything in life was attainable with positivity and drive. Flo was certainly a true Italian lady; she could put you in your place in a heartbeat, but would also smother you with kisses. She’d been like a mother to me; she was the mother that every child would want—a mother that every child deserved.

When I was thirteen, I found Nanny Flo sobbing in the garden. I’d never seen her cry before, so I put my arm around her and she held me so tight, like she would never let me go. That day, she told me a secret she had buried inside of her for years. Nanny Flo confessed that sixteen years ago, she’d given birth to a beautiful baby girl named Maddelena.

While shopping at their local market in Italy, Maddelena, who’d just turned three years old, went missing. Flo searched for her baby girl for years, hoping that one day she would find her, but Maddelena had never been found. Her obsession with finding her daughter eventually destroyed her marriage. Sadly, she never had more children and never found love again. After ten years of searching for the missing piece of her heart, Flo moved to California to start a new life. She came to work for my parents two days after Heather was born, and since that day, she moved wherever we moved, truly dedicated to our family.

Flo changed my diapers, prepared my bottles, cooked all my meals, and took me to the park to feed the birds. As I grew up, she would sit and listen to me read, and was the one who came to my piano recitals. She always tied my hair in pretty pigtails with matching ribbons and bows and told me how beautiful I was. It was Flo who tucked me in at bedtime and always gave me a kiss on my cheek after reading my favorite bedtime story once again with no complaint. One day, she confessed to me that I was her favorite of the Harris children; I loved being her favorite; she made me feel incredibly special, and it was lovely to feel wanted.

Flo turned to face me. “You want blueberry pancakes, or is it chocolate chip today, Bambino?”

“Oh, I think it’s a chocolate chip day today, Flo,” I answered.

She laughed as she reached for the chocolate chips. “It’s always a chocolate chip day for you, my lovely Kate.”

I held my hand out and Flo poured chocolate chips into my palm. I threw them into my mouth and saw Heather roll her eyes at me with disgust. It was hard not to lower myself to her level, but I could see her getting more and more agitated as I ignored her, and the satisfaction it gave me was enough of a reward.

I smiled and held out my hand again. “Actually, make it a double chocolate chip day, Flo, and some whipped cream would be lovely. I’m starving.” I raised my eyebrows at Heather.

Flo replenished my hand with chocolate chips. “Double chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream on its way.” We both laughed. There had been many laughs and happy moments between Flo and me.

“You should lay off the pancakes, Kate. I’ve warned you before: skinny jeans don’t like carbohydrates.” Heather took a bite of a strawberry and threw me another bitchy smile.

“Well, my skinny jeans fit me just fine,” I said while sucking in my stomach. I sat at the table and reached for a strawberry. Heather finished the strawberry and threw its remains on the table. She pursed her lips, and as she reached for another, couldn’t help herself.

“You should watch your weight, Kate. Society judges people on their physical appearance these days. You’ll never find an eligible bachelor with thighs the size of yours, and with your plain face, you’ll have to compensate with your weight even more.” Her evil eyes scanned my body as my stomach pushed against my jeans. She made me feel like I’d suddenly gained ten pounds, had a face like a wrinkly corpse, and was naked for her appraisal. I’d tried and failed; Heather was going to get what she so desperately wanted and I despised myself for giving into her. However, deciding I was stronger than she thought I was, I refused to allow her to mentally bully me and make me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I glanced over at my mother who was reading her newspaper and playing ignorant to our bickering.

“Heather, modeling is a career for you, not me. I want a career where I actually have to use my brain.” There it was. I had succumbed to pure bitching and immediately regretted it.

Heather glared at me. “I’ll have you know, Kate, that modeling does require the use of my brain. I’m considering designing my own clothing line; I have an amazing vision for high-end fashion.” Heather took another sip of her smoothie. I had to wrap up this petty argument before she completely drained me.

“If you say so, Heather. Good luck with the designing. Considering that you can’t draw a stick figure, I’m sure the clothes will be very interesting.”

Heather leaned into me. “I
am
visually gifted, Kate. So I won’t need to draw. I’ll have staff for that.”

I laughed. Heather’s cheeks turned a bright shade of scarlet and her eyes widened with humiliation.

My mother slammed her hand down on her newspaper. “Girls, please! Can you just try and get along, even if it’s only while I’m in the same room as you both?” Heather screwed up her face and was taking short breaths.

Flo placed my pancakes in front of me and smiled, which I’m sure meant that she was delighted that I had given Heather a piece of my mind. Heather looked at Flo, held up her half-empty glass and rudely waved it around in the air.

“Excuse me, Flo. I’m finished. Next time, I’d like more strawberries and fewer blueberries. This tasted a little like—”

Now she had pushed my buttons. She wasn’t going to get away with being rude to Flo who was nothing but kind and respectful. I was raging, but surprisingly, my mother beat me to it.

“Heather, don’t you dare speak to Flo like that!” my mother said. “Her smoothies are delicious! I’m sorry, Flo.”

Flo took Heather’s glass, refilled it, and handed it back to her. “No need to apologize, Mrs. Harris.”

My mother was many things, but she wasn’t someone who tolerated rudeness.

“There’s every need to apologize, Flo. I raised my children to have more respect than that. Heather, apologize to Flo immediately,” she insisted.

I’d never heard Heather apologize and watched as she casually bit down on a slice of apple.

“Oh pipe down, Mom. Since when did you raise us anyway?” She’d hit my mother hard with her cruel words, even if they
were
true.

“I’m not going to get into an argument with you now, Heather, but I certainly will
not
forget what you just said! What has gotten into you?”

I took a deep breath and reached across the table for the jug of cranberry juice. As I lifted the jug, I allowed my hand to relax a little too much and lost my grip. The jug hit the corner of the table and the juice splashed into Heather’s hair. She dropped her glass and the smoothie splattered in her lap, staining her white, designer skinny jeans. I was childishly thrilled. Heather’s jaw dropped and her eyes fluttered as she stood, taking a few short breaths before throwing herself into a tantrum, which had me in complete hysterics.

“Kate, you devil child! These are designer, custom-made, Swarovski-encrusted skinny jeans! I hate you!”

In that moment, I realized just how pathetic and shallow Heather was. I handed her my napkin, but she snatched it out of my hand, screwed it up into a ball, and threw it at me. In the center of it all, my mother stood, looked at Heather in disbelief, and then glared at me, which had no impact on either of us. Then, in the middle of the kitchen, Heather took off her jeans, revealing an incredibly skimpy thong, and launched them at Flo’s feet.

“You get this stain out immediately, Flo!”

Flo bent down and picked up the jeans. “I’ll do my best, Miss Heather,” Flo said, being far too polite.

My mother folded her newspaper and wedged it underneath her arm. She stood and walked over to Flo. “Oh don’t be ridiculous, Heather. Just buy a new pair. Don’t bother attempting to clean them, Flo. Just throw them away.”

Heather threw her shoulders back and flicked her hair behind her. My mother’s insensitivity toward her precious jeans had irked her further. Heather was more irate than I had ever seen her before—except for the time that Brett snapped the legs off her collector’s Malibu Barbie.

“Mom, they were custom-made! Did you not hear me when I said they were encrusted with Swarovski crystals?
Swarovski crystals!
” Tears rolled down Heather’s face.

My mother looked at her chipped nail polish. “So, get another pair made, then. Honestly, I wish you wouldn’t be so dramatic all the time.”

The kitchen door opened and Tobias, our thirty-something-year-old Mexican butler, peeked in. After seeing Heather standing half-naked, he let the door close. He’d been working for us for two years and had settled in well, but liked to keep to himself. His shoulder-length black hair was slicked back into a tidy ponytail, and his muscular body suited his average height. I was envious of how he always looked so healthy with his smooth olive skin glowing on a daily basis. Heather swore he moisturized, and of course, he got plenty of vitamin D!

Heather flicked her hair, which hit my face. She ran out of the kitchen and stomped up the stairs in her rather pointless white thong, leaving Tobias stunned and blushing. My mom said her goodbyes and left to get her nails done as she always did on Thursdays. So there I was sitting alone at the kitchen table having breakfast. It was just like any other day in any other house.

CHAPTER 2

A
fter eating breakfast, I headed to my bedroom to continue unpacking. I’d run out of space, so I opened the doors to my balcony and began tossing boxes out of my way. Once they were out of my room, I continued unpacking, finding a new home for my things.

Just a couple of hours later, I had successfully unpacked everything and then I looked up. There were piles of empty boxes on my balcony that I’d completely forgotten about. Sighing, I grabbed a pair of scissors and began slicing through the tape and flattening the boxes to put in the attic for our next move. When I looked up, I spotted my new neighbor and observed his toned and tanned body as he dove into his pool.

I put down the scissors and waited for him to resurface. Looking at my watch, it occurred to me that this guy had been underwater for an abnormal length of time—too long to still be able to breathe. My heart began to race with the panic of witnessing a possible drowning, but when I looked up again, he was out of the pool, watching me.

Feeling flustered, I turned too quickly and stumbled over the empty boxes, losing my footing and crushing the boxes underneath me. I crawled back inside and closed the curtains, feeling embarrassed that I’d so obviously been watching him. After kicking myself for being so clumsy, my intrigue got the best of me. I slowly pulled back the curtains and located him, but he was too far away for me to see his face clearly. Then, he turned around faster than I knew was possible, and before I had the chance to look away, he waved a muscular arm in my direction. I went numb; this time I couldn’t draw the curtains and hide. I was in a motionless daze and if I drew them now, I’d look even more stupid, if that was possible. So I waved back at him with a blank expression on my flushing face.