The Winning Ticket (Circle of Friends #1)

1. Today Was Meant To Be A Good Day

brIANNA

1

Today started with such promise. It’s my last day of work before my holiday, and all I need to do is hand over the projects I am currently working on to the team assistant, Sarah. I’ve been working on the accounts of our three largest clients, but they are pretty straightforward. I am confident that Sarah won’t make any mistakes, as I’ve set up everything to release on a schedule; she simply needs to work with the social media team to monitor the comments sections and track website traffic.

I look out the window as I head for my office, blinded momentarily by the summer sun reflecting off the water in Sydney Harbour. No matter how long I’ve worked here, I’m still in awe of this amazing view. The office is on the fortieth floor, and we can see all the way to the Pacific Ocean.

As I sit down on the fitball that my boss insists we all must use to start going through everything with Sarah, a message comes through on my phone.

Unknown

Miss Brianna Watkins - This confirms that the transfer of your details for flight ATF55 is complete.

I read the message several times, then send a quick message to my boyfriend, Richard, asking him to look into it for me. He and his assistant had made all the arrangements for our trip, and I assume he’s had his travel agent make some last-minute changes.

“I’m so jealous. I wish I were going to Thailand for two weeks. Have you ever been before?” Sarah asks, staring wistfully at the background of my computer, a beach with crystal clear water lined with coconut trees.

I’d changed it the week before to try and hype myself up for the trip, but it hasn’t really worked.

“Yeah, we go every year. Richard has work to do there, so it’s not really a holiday for him. I actually would have preferred to go somewhere else this year,” I say, rechecking my phone to see if anything has come through.

Still nothing.

“Oh really? Like where?” Sarah asks.

“I kind of just want to chill out somewhere in the mountains or something. I’m not really a beach person. I’d rather just hang out with a book by an open fire instead of lying on a beach in my skimpy bikini,” I say with a shrug.

Sarah blinks at me for a moment. I can tell she can’t really relate.

“Isn’t your boyfriend some famous photographer for, like, swimwear and lingerie models?”

“Yeah. That’s what he’s doing over there - he’s got a shoot for the first week, and then we’re heading to one of his client’s private islands for the second week,” I say, scrolling through my personal email on my phone.

There’s also an email accompanying the text message. I quickly scan it, but I don’t understand what it says. It seems to be about a transfer. Did he change our flights to a different day?

“And you’re not excited about that?” Sarah asks, the disbelief evident in her tone.

“Honestly, when you do this every year, and you’re not into the beach, it’s not that big of a deal. We should get started ’cause I have to leave in like an hour,” I say, trying to get the conversation back on track while continuing to check my phone for a response from Richard.

I already know that most people believe I’m crazy. I don’t need to rehash it again.

An hour later, I am finally done, and I head to Circular Quay to catch the ferry to Rose Bay. Oddly, Richard still hasn’t responded by the time I get to my stop, but I figure I can ask him about it when I get home.

My phone rings, and I check the screen, hoping it’s Richard, but it’s my sister, Morgan, calling from Brisbane.

“Hey, love,” I say, putting the phone to my ear while I start the short walk home.

Well, it would be short if I wasn’t wearing these sky-high stilettos. I silently curse myself for not taking my runners to work today, but Richard has constantly screwed his nose up when I pair them with the work attire he’s helped me put together, so I tend to avoid doing it, even if it’s killing my feet to walk up this hill.

“Hey, B. Just thought I’d call you before you head off. Are you excited?” Morgan asks, and I sigh.

“I mean, I know I should be…”

“But?”

“But you know how much I hate the beach. I just… one day, he’s going to have a shoot somewhere I want to go.”

“Or… just throwing it out there… You could go on a holiday that’s actually a holiday and somewhere you want to go,” she says.

From her tone, I can tell that the conversation is threatening to go the same way as all our other conversations when it comes to mentioning anything related to Richard.

“I know you guys hate Richard, but he’s always taken care of me.”

“We don’t hate him, B. But what you say is taking care of you… we kind of just think it’s controlling everything about your life. I mean, there’s support, and then there’s telling you what to wear, what career you should have, who you should be friends with.“ Morgan continues, but this conversation has worn me down constantly for the last five years.

“Can we not have this conversation right now?” I ask, waving at Bob, the doorman. “I just want to go on this holiday, read my books, and chill out for a bit.”

My long blonde hair is sticking to the back of my neck, and I can feel sweat dripping down my back, so it’s a relief when I’m met with a wave of air conditioning when I enter the foyer.

“Sorry, babe. I just worry about you.” That worry is more than evident in her voice, and my shoulders relax a little.

“I know, and I love you for it. But I’m fine, really.”

“Okay, well, you just have an amazing time, and I want to see lots of photos, okay?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t be doing my job as a photographer’s girlfriend and a marketing exec if I didn’t post all the beautiful photos,” I say, and she laughs.

“True. Love you, B.”

“Love you too, M.”

I exit the elevator and cross the hall to the door of our apartment. After digging around in my handbag, I produce my key and put it in the lock.

But the key doesn’t turn.

“Richard! Something is wrong with my key. Can you let me in?” I call out, knocking on the door loudly to get his attention.

I press my ear to the door but can’t hear any noise from our three-bedroom penthouse apartment, so I knock as loud as possible. It seems strange that my dog, Maddie, isn’t even barking.

“Bri? Is everything okay?” My neighbour, Charity sticks her blonde head out the door from across the hall.

She is dressed head to toe in Lululemon, her daytime uniform. It’s usually either Lululemon activewear or some other tightly fitting designer brand. No shabby Kmart bargains allowed. She lives in the other penthouse with her much older husband, who showers her with all the best things money can buy while working ridiculous hours. I can’t remember the last time I saw him, actually.

“I’m not sure. My key isn’t working, and Richard isn’t answering.” I struggle to keep my composure while my anxiety starts to mount.

“Um, I saw him leaving when I was coming back from the gym earlier. He had a girl with him, and they had suitcases,” Charity says, and I turn to look at her again, my hand frozen in mid-air as I am about to bash my fist against the door again.

“What? When was this?”

“About an hour ago.” Charity shifts her weight from one foot to the other while her eyes dart towards the elevator.

My hands start to shake. “Did he say anything to you?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I figured you weren’t far behind them because Maddie was in your car.”

“What?!” At the mention of my dog, any chance of keeping my anxiety under control is gone, and Charity steps back a little when I spin around.

“Um… Yeah, I thought it was weird when I pulled up, but when I saw Richard with the suitcases, I assumed he was taking her to be looked after before you went away.”

“No, we’re dropping her off at the pet sitter later. I need to check on her. Can you tell Richard I’m downstairs if you see him before I do?” I yell over my shoulder while I run to the elevator.

I hear her yell something back as the elevator doors close, but I can’t think of anything else until I know my dog is okay.

The doors open to the basement car park of our unit block, and I am met with the familiar rows of BMWs, Lexus and Mercedes. I run around to the penthouse car parks and see my little Suzuki Swift parked in its usual spot. Richard’s BMW is gone, and now my heart rate is through the roof.

I hear Maddie barking like crazy, and I hit the unlock button on my keys, ripping the passenger door open. My little Maltese/Shitzu dog launches herself at me, and I hug her close while she licks my neck frantically.

My back seat and boot are piled high with suitcases and boxes, and I see a little bowl of water on the floor of the front passenger seat before noticing an envelope sitting on the driver’s seat.

With a shaking hand, I reach across the seats and pick up the envelope, a wave of nausea rolling through me. I lean against the side of the car, the sound of rustling paper the only thing I can hear over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

Brianna,

This isn’t working. I didn’t think there was any point in dragging it out anymore. You know how much I suck at goodbyes. I’ve changed the locks, and all your stuff is in the car. I’ve made sure I’ve packed everything so that it’s a clean break. I’m taking Michelle to Thailand now, seeing as it was a work trip for me anyway. I’ve paid for a couple of nights for you at a pet-friendly hotel while you work out where you’re going to live now. Michelle has emailed the info to you. I hope there are no hard feelings. This just isn’t right for either of us anymore.

Take care,

Richard

I stare at the letter while the horror of my situation fully sets in.

He’s left me.

No, correction – he’s kicked me out of his apartment – the apartment that, for four years, he has insisted was my home after convincing me to move in with him. He took that last little bit of independence I had left and pulled me entirely into his world of money and prestige – a world in which I have never felt entirely at home, but let him convince me that I belong.

I hug Maddie tightly to me while tears start rolling down my face, and I can feel my chest begin to tighten. I haven’t had a panic attack for a while, but I know the signs. I fold myself into the passenger seat while Maddie tries to comfort me, licking my cheek and pushing her head against my neck. I’m surprised she isn’t yelping with how tightly I squeeze her little white furry body. Still, she continues to cuddle in close when my hair falls over us both in a wave, and I rock back and forth in my seat, trying to ride out the dizziness and the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. I start to shake uncontrollably and feel like I can’t breathe, and I squeeze my eyes shut as colours start to dance across my vision.

Today was meant to be a good day.

“Brianna? Is everything okay?” Charity appears next to my car, her eyes wide.

She stares down at me curled up in the passenger seat, with Maddie gripped tightly to my chest.

I struggle to answer and hand her the letter, the paper flapping in my shaking hand. She scans the words, her eyebrows shooting up higher and higher. Once she finishes, she stares at me, her mouth opening and closing.

“That fucking bastard!” She finally exclaims, smacking her hand against the roof of my car, causing Maddie and I to jump. “Who the fuck does that? I swear, when I see him next, he is a dead man.”

I can’t even form a response, still just trying to get my anxiety under control, and her expression softens.

“Hey, Brianna. Look at me. I want you to tell me five things you can see.” She crouches down beside my open door.

I struggle to breathe but force myself to try and focus. “I can see… I see your blonde hair. Your car. The wall. My dashboard. That damn letter…” I nod towards the letter still gripped in her hand.

“Good. Now, take a deep breath. What are five things you can hear?” She stares at me intently, nodding when I draw in a shaky breath.

“I can hear the garage door opening. Maddie’s breathing.” I squeeze my eyes shut again but try to focus my attention on sounds outside of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. “Water dripping… The elevator moving… And a car alarm going off.”

Charity nods again and squeezes my hand.

“I am so sorry, Bri. What can I do? Do you want to stay with us until you work out what you’re going to do? I can probably get someone in to change the locks on your apartment again - give the prick a taste of his own medicine.”

I shake my head violently and gulp down a breath of air.

“No, I’ll be okay.” I don’t even recognise my own voice.

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, beginning to rock back and forth in my seat again.

She squeezes my hand again. “Bri, look at me.” I force myself to look at her. “You’re going to be okay. He is an asshole, but you are strong. You will get through this. Can I call anyone for you?”

Before now, I would never have thought Charity was capable of such compassion, and I feel bad for writing her off as shallow in the past.

I take a few deep breaths and let each one out slowly before responding. “I just need to get out of here. But thank you, Charity. Truly.”

She squeezes my hand before standing back up. She reluctantly agrees to leave me to gather myself alone, but not before insisting on giving me her number and making me promise to let her know once I’m settled somewhere. Once she heads back upstairs, I let my head drop back against the car seat and allow the tears to flow.

I managed to pull myself together enough to find the hotel details in the email Richard had his assistant send. Driving on autopilot, I somehow get myself all checked in without losing it in the middle of the foyer.

After finding my room, I let Maddie out into the courtyard so she can sniff around, and I slide down onto the floor at the end of the bed with my phone gripped tightly in my hand. Our flight isn’t supposed to leave for a few more hours, so I use a shaking finger to tap on Richard’s name in my favourites list and press my phone firmly to my ear.

It rings once and goes straight to voicemail.

I stare at the phone, realising with a sinking heart that he has blocked my number.

I start working my way through our friends in Sydney, one after the other, and each time, the phone rings once and goes through to voicemail. My heart begins to race again.

This can’t be happening. Surely they haven’t all blocked me so quickly?

Humiliation starts to overcome my anxiety. How could I have let myself get into a position like this? All these people I’d thought were my friends have just wiped their hands clean of me.

Finally, finger shaking, I press the name of the one person I know will never let me down.

The sound of Morgan’s voice, when she answers after the first ring, tips me over the edge, and I struggle to get any words out as my body starts heaving with great big sobs.

“Oh honey, what’s going on?”

I have no idea how to tell her that the man she can’t stand has ripped my heart out and stomped all over it. So I just keep on crying.