Urgh, is it Monday already?
Yay, hump day. Only two days until Friday.
My boss is a complete ass. I hate him.
I thought working for a woman would be great, but she’s a complete bitch.
Yet the more bored and dissatisfied I became, the urge to experience those things for myself increased. I wanted to curl up in bed on a Sunday evening dreading work the next day, like the majority of the population.
I wanted to find a purpose, a direction. To have goals. To succeed and fail.
I wanted my independence.
If only Elliot’s riches had come a few years later when I’d established myself as a woman with a career of my own. Because it had happened when I’d been seventeen, I allowed myself to drift, urged on by an overprotective brother and parents who assumed I was happy with the status quo. The six months I’d spent traveling only increased my determination to fight for my own identity, for my place in the world. Ryker’s blatant disapproval of me only solidified my conviction that things must change.
First, I’d get a job. And then an apartment, paid for with money I’d earned. It’d be hard, I accepted that. Especially in Manhattan. But people did it every day, right? They managed, and so would I.
I opened the front door only to be greeted by the expansive hallway—bigger than most New York apartments.
“Hello,” I called out, not expecting a reply. I wasn’t disappointed. Even if my parents were at home, unless they were in the adjacent rooms off the hall, they had zero chance of hearing me.
Dropping my suitcase beside the winding staircase—one of three—I went in search of humanity. I happened upon Dora, our housekeeper, who squealed and enveloped me in the tightest hug.
“Miss Bancroft. When did you get back? Oh, your mom is going to be thrilled.”
I kissed her cheek. “Five minutes ago. Missed you, Dora. Where’s Mom?”
“She’s in the kitchen.”
“I’ll go say hi, then. See you later.”
I found Mom sitting at the enormous kitchen table, a large pot of coffee beside her, the clacking of her knitting needles echoing in the wide-open space.
“Not more holey sweaters,” I said, affection for her overwhelming me.
Mom’s head swiveled in my direction, and her mouth fell open. Then she tossed her knitting to one side—resulting, no doubt, in another dropped stitch she didn’t know how to pick up—and launched to her feet. Seconds later, I found myself enveloped in chiffon, and Mom’s favorite perfume invaded my nostrils. She smelled of home, of love, and only then did I realize how much I’d missed her.
“Oh, Athena, my darling girl.” She squeezed my upper arms, then performed a full-length body scan. “When did you get back? Is everything okay? Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? Does Elliot know you’re here? Why have you come home earlier than planned?”
I laughed. “Which question do you want me to answer first, Mom?”
She smiled, her hand cupping my cheek. “Take your pick.”
I covered her hand with my own. “I missed home. I missed you all.”
She hugged me again. “We missed you, too. So very much.”
I glanced around. “Is Dad here?”
She shook her head. “Out playing golf,” she said, following her comment with an eye roll. “Really, I’ll never understand that game. Where’s the fun in hitting a tiny ball around a field and then chasing after it?”
I grinned. Dad would perform an eye roll of his own if he heard her dissing his beloved golf.
“Beats me.”
Mom ushered me to the table and poured a large cup of coffee, adding a healthy dose of cream. “Wait until Elliot hears you’re home. He’s on his way back from a business meeting in Japan.”
An element of pride laced her tone when she spoke of Elliot’s achievements. I tried not to let envy consume me. I had no doubt Mom loved me, but I wanted her to be proud of me, too. To talk to her friends about her “clever” daughter who was “taking Manhattan by storm”.
I scoffed. Fat chance.
“He’s not arrived yet?” Realizing my mistake, I scrambled to cover my tracks. “I mean arrived. No yet. Just arrived.”
Luckily, Mom was used to my skittish ways, reading nothing into my slip of the tongue other than to chuckle.
“No. He was supposed to be back by now, but his flight was delayed.” She clapped her hands. “Oh, darling, this calls for a celebration. As soon as Elliot returns, I’ll arrange a dinner. Invite all the boys. They’ll be so thrilled to see you.”
I suppressed a smile. Six strapping twenty-eight-year-old men who could buy New York City several times over being described as boys amused me. Then my smile fell. Ryker was one of the six. Considering how we’d left things only an hour ago, I wasn’t sure I could take another mental pummeling at Ryker’s hands. I needed to recharge my batteries first.
Mom clutched my hand, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I’ve missed you, my darling girl. Tell me, was traveling everything you hoped for and more? Did you maybe find a nice man to take care of you?”
I blinked slowly, disappointment weighing heavily in my chest. And there it is. Her comment strengthened my resolve to finally stand on my own two feet.
“Yes to the first question. No to the second. And I don’t need a man to take care of me. Which reminds me. When Dad and Elliot get home, I want to talk to you all. Together.”
Mom’s eyebrows squished together. “Should I be concerned?”
I grinned. “No, worry wart.”
“That’s all right then,” she said, a beam lighting up her face, smoothing the brief appearance of her troubled frown.
My heart filled with love. I adored my mother, looked up to her enormously. She was my hero. She’d had a terrible life at the hands of my father—correction, sperm donor. The asshole didn’t deserve the term father—yet she’d come out the other side strong, resilient, amazing. Meeting the man I considered my real dad certainly helped. But Mom would have made it regardless.
“Let me text Elliot and ask him to come here when he lands in case he planned to go straight to the office,” Mom said, reaching for her phone. “I won’t tell him why, though. Let it be a surprise.”
Ninety minutes later, Mom and I had fully caught up when the sound of footsteps heading our way reached us. Then voices. Dad and Elliot. Perfect timing.
I stood, hands tucked in the back pockets of my jeans, weirdly nervous about seeing my brother in case he read the lies in my face, that he somehow knew I’d been in Japan working at the club. That Ryker, despite his assurances, had sold me out. But as Elliot entered the room and saw me, my anxiety melted away. His surprised expression was followed by complete joy.
“Athena,” he cried, striding toward me. I found myself wrapped in his arms, Dad soon joining in. After being hugged to within an inch of my life, I managed to extricate myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” Elliot accused, his gaze narrowing.
“It was a last-minute decision,” I answered truthfully, although decision was pushing it.
Blackmailed into coming home more like it.
“Where have you flown in from?”
“Ja-Jakarta,” I said, catching myself just in time. “How was Japan?” When he raised his eyebrows in query, I added, “Mom told me.”