Taming the Beast
Ember
As I pull into my parent’s driveway, I fight the urge to turn my BMW around and drive until I reach the end of the earth. Dumbass. The world isn’t flat. Fine. Smack dab on the opposite side of the globe is where I’d love to be.
I inhale and shove the gearshift into park. Their home is on thirty-five acres near the outskirts of the city. From the outside, the structure appears flawless. It’s a white two-story house with a wraparound porch. It’s stately and perfect for fundraising parties.
My father has been working his way from city leadership positions until now; he’s a state senator. Shit. I feel their pull like it’s nipping at my heels. I’m twenty-two years old. They can’t make me stay. I snap the door open and step onto the asphalt drive. It loops in front of the house and returns guests to the main road.
The grass is freshly cut, and not a clip of the trimmings remain to mar the landscape. As I travel the sidewalk leading to the front door, I inhale the scent of roses. My mother is obsessed with roses. Red ones. Pink ones. Purple. Yellow. White. Each color bleeds into the one next to it. My tennis shoes make light slapping sounds on the coated surface.
The front door swings open, and Albert, the butler, smiles, and winks. He’s in his customary tux, and his salt and pepper hair is cut short. “It’s about time you showed up.”
“Hey, Albert. It’s so good to see you.”
He steps forward and shuts the door most of the way behind him like he’s blocking the rest of the house from listening to our conversation. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yes, everything’s good. School’s great.” I glance around while hiking up the steps and whisper, “I have a job.”
“That’s great, honey. Do everything we told you, so you’re prepared.”
“I am.” I nod.
If my parents knew their butler and maid had been plotting with me since I was a teen on how to save money and get out from under their thumb, they’d be livid. Tough shit. I cringe. Yeah, you’re a pussy. If your dad told you to jump, you’d jump and then ask him how much higher you need to go. It’s embarrassing.
“How is Cora?” I miss them. They’re like my grandparents because my other one’s died before I was out of grade school – the bad luck of being born to parents who’d thought they’d moved past their fertile stage.
“She’s great. She can’t wait to see you.”
“Me, either.” I hug him and step back so as not to draw attention to us. “Let’s get together in town.”
“We’d love to.” He beams, twists on his heel, and his shoulders tighten as if on cue. He’s officially switched from the role of mentor to the employee of a senator. “Come inside, my dear. Your father and mother are waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Albert.” I hold the same tone of indifference while speaking loud enough for my voice to carry inside the house. Not that they care what I’m doing. Not personally. Just on how it will reflect on their standing in the community.
My gaze darts around the foyer as we approach the study. Nothing is different. The floors are still polished to a glow that you can see your reflection in. A clang comes from behind me as the grandfather clock strikes one o’clock.
In the study, my father sits in his chair with his forearms resting on the leather arms. “Hello, Ember. It’s been a long time since you visited. I expected you to make a greater effort.”
My shoulders sag. Why did I expect anything else? Of course, there’s censure. “I’ve been busy with school.”
“Dear.” My mom nods.
“Mother.” I stand in the middle of the room with no desire to rush across the room to embrace either of them. Quite the opposite, I yearn to flee to the kitchen and see Cora or beg off to my bedroom for the night. Only I no longer have free reign in the house.
“Have a seat.” She nods to the sofa across from her. As I lower to the cushions, I meet a stiffness that keeps me upright. “I’m so glad you could break away for a few minutes to see us.”
More condemnation.I brace my back. If they weren’t paying for my schooling, I’d leave. And my car. And my cousin for a place to live. Yeah, I’m at their mercy until I save up enough money to break out on my own – if I can ever get up the nerve.
“Oliver said you broke up with him.”
Not exactly. I wouldn’t screw him, and he got pissed – throwing things around like a baby, saying hateful things, and stomping out.“We aren’t together anymore.”
“Dear.” My father leans forward and pins me in place with his piercing blue eyes. “He comes from a well-established family. The son of one of my business partners. If he tells his dad you aren’t together, he’s going to end a very lucrative partnership.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I know that. He’ll forgive you for your lapse in judgment. He’s looking forward to your call.”
Shit. Not exactly what I meant. I can’t see Oliver anymore. I can’t stand him. He’s disgusting.“I –”
“I’m relieved that went as well as expected.” My dad taps his fingertips on the edge of the chair arm.
“Dear, I told you Ember was compliant and would do what you instructed.” She takes the needle in her hand and pushes it through the fabric as she works on her cross-stitch project.
My dad shoves out of his chair. “I’m sorry we can’t stay and chat, but your mother and I have a function to prepare for.” He turns on his heel and disappears into the foyer.
“Mom?”
“Mother,” she says without glancing up.
“Oliver is –”
“Your boyfriend. No questions asked. Your father needs your support. As always, you will be obedient.” She stands and exits the same way without a backward glance.
Well, fuck me running. I don’t have enough money saved up. How can I get more funds – and quick?My gut churns. I’m not going back with Oliver.
Please, God, no. I can’t. I’ve got to figure something out. I’m so tired of doing what I’m told. Of never having a voice. I want to be whisked away and become a different person. A woman with my own opinions. A person worthy of respect.
I spin in a circle. Yet here I am. The dutiful daughter of a state senator. The daughter who can never do the right thing – even when I try. Never quite smart enough, pretty enough, polite enough, obedient enough. “Shit,” I growl.
“There you are.” Cora breezes into the room, and I run into her arms. She’s soft and smells like baked goods. I breathe in as anxiety washes away in her blanket of comfort.
“God, I’ve missed you,” I mutter while trying not to cry.
“Sweetheart, we missed you, too. But you had to get out of here.” She grabs my face. “Don’t listen to your parents. This is your time to grow. If you need money for a place to stay, we’ve got the cash. We’ve squirreled away for years.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“Yes, you will. We didn’t have children, and you’re like our granddaughter. Do not go back with that boy. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I’d called Cora when we split up and told her all about it. Not that I was upset, but to get someone’s support – when I should be calling my parents. How pathetic. Little Miss Rich Girl’s classic miserable life. I feel like Cinderella without the ugly stepsisters, birds, or glass slippers. Yeah, totally not like Cinderella.
But I’ll never take their money. They’ve been too good to me over the years. I should be giving them money to retire – not watching them keep working so they can save enough money to rescue me if I need it.
I’m so sick of people with money. They always believe they can buy you. Tell you what to do. Lord it over your head. Well, at least that’s what I’ve experienced. The only people I can depend upon are living paycheck to paycheck and struggling at that. Those people have substance.
Enjoy the vibe of this story? Check out Taming the Beast where a sweet and innocent Ember meets the sexy and gruff billionaire tattoo artist Maverick. Taming the Beast.