Come Back To Me (2 page)

I knew the moment I received a call
from Brewster & Carlton Attorneys at Law in New York, my plan
was coming together. I wanted the chance to change everything, and
craved to show my parents that I could live without their millions.
Top priority was finding myself, and if this plan fell apart I
wasn’t sure what plan B was, all I did know was that I didn’t want
to have to figure it out.

As I exited the aircraft, I felt in
serious need of a hot shower. The rather hefty man seated next to
me was sweating like he’d been trapped in a sauna for an extended
period of time. And the fact that I had a fantastic wet dream
midflight, made me feel a bit dirty. I really hoped that I didn’t
scream on the plane, I’m sure they would have said something right?
Or an air Marshall would have escorted my crazy ass off the
plane?

Walking through the airport, I felt a
sense of freedom and independence. This was for me, only me, and
dammit I was going to be selfish and think about only myself from
now on. Fuck what everyone else wanted from me, they wouldn’t get
it anymore. I was going to stay on this path even if it killed
me.

I thought about what my father said
before I left. “Emily, you know you will always have a position at
the studio.”

I didn’t want something that was handed
to me; I wanted to work honestly for it. Taking the easy way out
was not an option; it was do or die time. If I wasn’t willing to
risk anything, then I didn’t deserve a reward in the
end.

I made my way through the terminal, and
finally arrived at baggage claim. I spotted my luggage on the turn
style, and snatched it up with vigor. I headed for the nearest
exit, and watched male eyes on me the entire time.

I always seemed to garner
attention from the opposite sex in public, but it wasn’t like I
blatantly asked for it. I dressed conservative, and not like a slut
bag. I didn’t consider myself anything special, maybe average? I
was blessed with my Mothers golden blonde hair, which hung just
above my waist, and my Fathers artic blue eyes. My shape was
healthy not stick thin, I loved chips and snack cakes, and was damn
proud of it. Considering the stares I received, I still thought I
was pretty
normal.

Once I dodged the onslaught of lookers,
I found myself outside. The sunlight hit my face and warmed me,
even though it was October. I found a row of taxis lined up and
procured one for my use. My mother insisted on having a town car
waiting, but I rebuffed her as always. This was New York, the
people here either walked or took a cab, and I wanted to blend in
so I chose to do the same. The driver loaded my bags into the trunk
of the yellow beast and I settled into the rather smelly
interior.

“Where to Miss?” He asked through the
plexi glass barrier.

I rifled through my purse, pulled out
my phone and found the address of my new place. “513 East Park
Avenue.” I read off to him.

The look in his eyes made me feel
uncomfortable. I never understood the stigma with Park Avenue; it
was just a street for fuck sake. You would think I asked him to
deliver me to Mars. I gave him my usual “Yeah whatever” eye roll,
and he soon pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

I felt my phone vibrate in my hand, and
turned it over to see who it might be. Dammit! It was my
overbearing Mother checking up on me, she just didn’t understand
that I wasn’t five years old, twirling around in a tutu anymore. I
was Twenty-Eight, and a fucking adult.

She was the last person I wanted to
talk to so I hit the decline button. I could just imagine the
voicemail she would leave making me feel guilty and horrible about
my decision to leave. Fuck that, I didn’t feel anything but
elation.

Mother was pretentious, and she let
everyone know it. Drama followed her daily, and she thrived on the
hysteria of it all. I had so much animosity toward her, and she
just didn’t see it, she lived like things were just peachy, but she
was diluted. Maybe it was the massive amounts of prescription pills
she took; possibly they clouded her brain until she didn’t know
what reality was. I couldn’t be her savior; I needed to be mine and
no one else’s.

The cab finally reached my destination,
and pulled up outside of a posh looking building. The façade was a
light brown brick, with an awning that extended almost to the
street. I imagined that would come in handy on a cold rainy day in
the future. I really had to hand it to my Mother she did know how
to pick the most pristine living conditions, no doubt my living
space inside was equally comparable. She had a knack for the finer
things in life, clothes, jewelry, homes, she had it all, and my
Father made sure she was well stocked with all of it. She
desperately wanted lavish me with the things of fortune as well,
but I was perfectly happy with the simple things in life. I didn’t
need things that sparkled or a house big enough to accommodate a
third world country. I was happy as a clam having worn furniture,
and eating canned soup. I had a champagne budget, and a beer taste.
She always harped on me for it, but like every other demeaning
thing she said, I pushed it to the side.

The driver unloaded my luggage and
placed it on the sidewalk underneath the awning. I paid him quickly
and he left in haste.

I stood there taking in the sights and
sounds around me, I lived here during my college years, but was
always trapped on campus. I never really had time to explore with
the homework and papers due. It was always Jake and me, watching
movies in either of our dorm rooms, or having our noses buried in a
book. Every now and then we would escape to our favorite coffee
house for a chat, but that was as far as I would venture. I could
still remember just sitting and talking like it was only him and I
in the entire world. The smells of freshly brewed espresso, and the
nutty biscotti scent wafted through my senses and made me feel at
home there.

I would watch his mouth with intensity
as he spoke, often fantasizing that it was wrapped around my
nipple, sucking and laving until it was hard and distended. I
wondered if he ever thought about me spread beneath him, taking him
deep and screaming out in pleasure? Jake was my rock back then, he
was always there and never said “no” when I needed something, He
was always there to help me lick my wounds after some prick dumped
me for someone more apt to be bikini model.

As I stared at the city towering over
me, my senses were filled to the brim with the sights and sounds.
The buildings were so tall that I literally had to tilt my head
back to take in the sheer enormity of it all. The honking traffic
barked in my ears, and the smells were a mix of street vendor food
and sewage. Perfect.

I fumbled around in my purse for the
keys I was mailed, that would give me entry into my new
home.

I startled when I heard a voice behind
me “Hello Miss, can I help you with something?”

I turned to see a tall gentleman,
probably in his sixties, standing there in a sort of bell hop
uniform.

“Oh, hi, I’m Emily Mills; I’m the new
tenant in 6B.”

“Welcome Miss Emily, I’m Harold, your
building doorman. Could I help with your bags?”

“That would be great, thank you
Harold.”

Harold looked at me and I could see a
question looming. “What apartment did you say you were moving
into?”

“6B.” I hesitantly answered.

“Oh, okay well you needn’t say the B
after the 6 Miss.”

I looked at him like he grew three
heads “And why not?” I asked.

“Well Miss Emily, the entire
6
^th
floor is one apartment…your apartment.”

What the fuck?

Oh this was just dandy, my mother, Mrs.
Opulence had decided that I needed an entire fucking floor to
myself. What the hell was I thinking when I agreed to let her find
me a place here? That’s right, I wasn’t thinking dammit!

I was exhausted with arguing, I caved
just like I always did on huge decisions with her. She bugged the
hell out of me until I agreed, and getting her off my back was more
important than anything.

I knew Harold could see the distress on
my face, I was sure he would kill for a top floor, three thousand
square foot dwelling in this city. I should just be grateful and
shut my damn mouth. I plastered on a smile, and rolled with the
punches.

“Sorry Harold, I was just a bit
shocked.” I apologized.

“It’s quite alright, for what it’s
worth, the place is beautiful.” He smiled.

“I’m sure it is.” I took a deep breath
and tried to steady my nerves.

Harold ushered me inside the building
and past a mahogany desk where another man sat. “That’s Gary; he is
the security officer for the building. No one gets past him without
prior approval from the tenants.”

“That’s good to know.” I smiled at
Gary.

He smiled back and continued to finish
his crossword puzzle.

Harold pressed the button for the
elevator, and the doors quickly dinged open. I took one more good
look around the lobby and realized that my mother didn’t just find
an apartment, she found the fucking Ritz!

I assured myself that my seething anger
toward her wouldn’t stop shy of the lobby either, I could only
imagine what she had waiting on me upstairs. Probably diamond
studded toilet seat covers, and a personal ass wiper on staff. She
wasn’t even here and managed to make my blood boil. Damn
her!

Once we were packed inside the
elevator, we ascended to the top floor, my floor. My anxiety
started to climb even more when the doors came open to a foyer
decorated with Monet reproduction paintings, a table with a massive
vase of flowers, and a doormat reading “Home Sweet Home.”
Really?

I presented my key, and pushed it into
the brass door handle; I swung the door open and gasped.

Oh. My. God!

I was right, my Mother was
insane!

As I entered my new home, I
looked around for
my
furniture, and to my dismay, it wasn’t there. It seemed that
my overbearing Mother filled the place with nothing but lavish
furnishings and décor, probably just to spite me I surmised.
Bitch!

She knew I always found
comfort with crashing on my worn out leather sofa, she called it
“the monster.” It was worn, but soft and plush still; there was
nothing wrong with it in my eyes. She must have thought the overly
large beige sectional taking up the room would be more fitting.
Whatever. Across from the beast of a sofa, sat a chaise, which I
was pretty sure come from the castle Marie Antoinette lived in.
There were cream and Tiffany blue throw pillows scattered among the
furniture, and a mirrored glass coffee table with matching end
tables. The lamps were obviously made of some crazy shiny metal,
and the vases sitting around were filled with crystals, and
decorative rocks. On the coffee table sat a collection of books,
one of which caught my eye right off the bat. It was a book about
my favorite actress, Audrey Hepburn; at least my Mother knew
something
about
me.

“Where would you like your bags?”
Harold said, pulling me from my derailed train of
thought.

“You can just leave them by the door,
thanks for bringing them up.”

“It was truly no problem at all Miss
Emily, if there is anything you need just call down to Gary and we
will help you out pronto.” He offered.

“Thanks Harold, I appreciate
it.”

And with those words Harold retreated
through the door, leaving me to my own personal hell.

I stood there not sure which emotions I
was feeling at the moment. Anger? Sadness? Hurt? Excitement? I
really needed to get a handle on myself and stop feeling sorry for
myself. Time to put on my big girl panties and grow the fuck
up.

Exploring my new domain would be job
number one.

I started with the kitchen first, there
was a small cherry wood table and two chairs nestled in the corner,
overlooking a large picture window. It gave a nice view of the
street below, and would probably be great for sitting and drinking
a cup of Joe.

The appliances were all stainless
steel, not that it mattered to me, and I didn’t cook. I guessed I’d
need to learn at some point or starve. The counters were filled
with the latest gadgets, mixer, food processer and oh yeah a coffee
maker. “Girl’s best friend.” I said out loud with a
chuckle.

I pulled open the drawers, and cabinet
doors, which were stocked with plates, cups and silverware. Mother
thought of everything apparently, and I wondered if she hired a
butler?

I decided on brewing a pot of coffee
before further investigating my new digs. I rummaged through the
cabinets and found what I was looking for…Vanilla/Almond flavored
coffee. I filled the filter with a heaping spoonful of grounds, and
switched it on. The bubbling sound was welcome to my ears and I
couldn’t wait to inhale the coffee when it was done
brewing.

Even though I had none of my
belongings, just the smell of the brew made me feel like I was
home. It was my warm embrace.