The next morning, I hopped on a bus to New York City. It felt weird to be going back so soon after leaving, but I hoped that I wouldn’t be staying for long. I was absolutely dreading meeting with Jackson, but I didn’t know what else to do. After all – he hated my guts. There was no way he’d want to drag this process out any longer than it already had to be.
I checked into a cheap bed and breakfast on the outskirts of Brooklyn and immediately tried to call Jackson at work. He had his own consulting firm – it was called First Perfect – and he’d been working there since his early twenties. Mom always talked about how rich Jackson was, but I didn’t even need to hear it to know. All I had to do was look at him. In addition to the rack of expensive suits, he always had a fresh haircut, perfect skin, and immaculate shoes.
“First Perfect Consulting, the first time you work with us, it’s always perfect!” A receptionist chirped into the phone.
I stifled the urge to groan. “I need to speak with Jackson Rhodes,” I said. “Immediately.”
The woman on the other end of the phone snickered and I felt annoyance wash over me.
“May I ask who’s calling? Mr. Rhodes is typically not available,” she said snidely. I imagined her rolling her eyes at the idiot calling and asking to speak to the CEO.
I blushed. “He’s…he’s my stepbrother,” I said after a pause. “And I think he’d like to speak with me, if he knew that I was waiting.”
“Dear, he’s the CEO,” the woman said in a snippy voice. “He can’t just take random calls from strangers.”
Under my skin, my blood began to boil. “I’m not a stranger,” I growled. “I told you. I’m his stepsister! I’m family!”
“Hold please.” The woman set the phone down with a click before I could
respond. I balled my hands into fists and clenched my fingers so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.
After what felt like an eternity, she picked the phone back up.
“Miss? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I said impatiently. “Can I speak to Jackson now?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Rhodes isn’t available. Please try calling back later.”
“The fuck he’s not,” I growled. “I know you’re lying!”
Click.
I stared at the grubby receiver in my hand. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I wailed out loud, my voice echoing off the hotel room walls. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
I flopped down on the bed and buried my face in my hands. Now what the hell was I going to do, turn around and go back to Alfred and tell Mom that I’d failed?
Just thinking about it was enough to make me sick. I knew I couldn’t do that – I couldn’t admit my shortcomings to her. I had to try harder. I was her only daughter, her only hope. If I didn’t fight for her, no one would.
Gritting my teeth, I grabbed my bag and hailed a cab into Manhattan. Jackson may have been able to hide behind his posh secretary once, but he wasn’t going to get away with it.
Not when I had my mother to take care of.
I have to admit that when the cab dropped me off in front of an elegant glass skyscraper, I was a little shocked. Sure, I knew that Jackson had made a bundle of money working at First Perfect. But I’d never imagined that his building would be one of the wealthiest in New York. I didn’t even know how much it would cost to rent a floor, but I guessed it was probably more than I’d ever had in my entire life put together.
Inside, the lobby was stark, almost Spartan. It was the cleanest lobby I’d ever seen, with pure white sunlight filtering through the elegant glass walls. A gorgeous blonde was perched behind a chrome desk, her nose glued to her computer screen. She didn’t look up as I walked closer, and I felt my heart sink. This isn’t going to work, I realized. She’s just going to tell me to leave, and I won’t be any closer to Jackson than I was on the phone.
“Yes?” The blonde looked up when I coughed. “May I help you?”
I smiled as charmingly as I could. “Hello there,” I said warmly. “I’m Belle Harrington – Jackson Rhodes’ stepsister. I’d really like to speak with him,” I added, pausing and flashing my brightest grin. “We have some family issues right now, and well…it’s very important.”
The blonde pursed her lips. Her wide blue eyes stared at me dully, and I wondered whether or not she was the same bitch I’d spoken to on the phone. So far, she gave no hint of having anything even resembling a personality.
Finally, she smiled slightly. “I’m sorry, miss, you’ll have to make an appointment. Mr. Rhodes is very busy,” she added in a patronizing tone.
I groaned and threw my hands in the air. “I know you don’t believe me,” I said sharply. “But I really need to speak with him! It’s important.”
“I can’t do that,” the blonde said. She looked nervous. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”