5. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Lisette
I stare up at the ceiling before letting my eyes fall shut. A minute barely passes before I sit up in my seat. “This is so stupid.”
Sire throws his hands up in defeat as he slouches in his seat. “I’m telling you, this worked when I did it with my therapist. Give it a chance.”
I restrain from rolling my eyes at him. “And I’m happy you’re doing well with your shrink, but I can’t close my eyes and locate where my feelings are manifesting from. I’m depressed, there’s nothing more to it.”
He gives me a bored look. “There’s probably more to it.”
“Or maybe I just have clinical depression because it runs in my shitty genes? Or maybe it’s because I’m an addict? Nothing triggered me. I woke up sad and I wanted to drink. You’re my sponsor, help me feel better.” I lean back in my seat again.
He watches me before getting up from his seat. I let out a defeated breath as he walks away, but he’s back less than a minute later. He drops a tiny bottle of vodka on my lap, and I feel my brows furrow as I sit up in my seat.
“This is an exercise I do with Kayden,” he mentions his sponsor. “When all else is failing, it makes me feel accomplished when I have my temptations close and still resist it. Keep that bottle with you for a few days. If it’s too much, call me and we can try something else, but keeping it will prove to yourself that you’re not doing as bad as you think.”
I keep my eyes on the bottle before I take it in my hands. I can feel the pull in me to take a small sip, but I simply squeeze it in my hand before tucking it away.
When the door swings open, Vidia’s dog comes running in and a little girl chases after her.
“Come here!” She laughs behind the dog and I study her for a beat, trying to figure out whose offspring this is. When she turns and I see her big gray eyes, I quickly recognize her.
Isabelle yanks Athena’s tail, and when she lets out a bark, she jumps back. I laugh at the panic in her face as she runs over and climbs the couch next to my brother.
“She’s going to bite you,” I whisper to her, and when Athena comes closer, her teeth showing in innocent excitement, Isa hides behind Sire.
“NO!”
I slightly jump at how loud she screams, but when she starts crying I roll my eyes before rising from the couch.
“Lisette, what is wrong with you?” Sire pulls Isabelle into his arms and she clings to him as if Athena already bit her. “She’s nice, princess. She’s not going to bite you. Look at her.”
Sire bends over to pet the dog, but Isa squirms in his arms, begging him not to be put down. I laugh at them and when Vidia looks over at me, she rolls her eyes.
“Jackson is going to kill you if she tells him you made her cry.”
I don’t tell her I don’t care because I’m sure she knows, but when I look back down at Isa, it always surprises me how much she resembles her dad and it’s more than just his blond curls and gray eyes.
“He has such a cute kid”—I shake my head at myself, skipping over her threat—“When she isn’t screaming and crying.” I walk into the kitchen. I pour myself a cup of juice as I watch Vidia wipe away Isabelle’s tears.
“She’s mean,” Isabelle tries to whisper but fails terribly.
“She can hear you,” I whisper loud enough for her to hear, and take a sip of my juice, but when she looks over at me, the little asshole sticks her tongue out at me.
Vidia clearly bites back a laugh before Sire puts her down and she walks over to me like her name is on the building. “I do not want to be your friend.”
“Well that hurts my feelings,” I voice dryly as I walk past her. I think she says something behind me, but she stumbles over her words so I ignore her and head for the couch.
Laying my head on the pillow, I keep my eyes shut as my head runs with a million different reasons to drink the bottle that’s burning a hole through my pocket.
A weight settles in my chest the more I think about it and I just want to sleep. For like, a few months. I think a six-month nap will help me reset.
I feel someone soothing my hair and I think it’s Vidia, but when I open my eyes Isabelle is looking down at me. “I like your hair.”
I focus on her for a beat and she just keeps her eyes on my hair. “Remind me how old you are, kiddo?”
“I’m five.” She puts up a hand.
I nod slowly as I study her. She’s on the smaller side for a five-year-old.
“Did I really hurt your feelings?”
I smile at her. “No, honey. I’m sorry for making you cry. I was only kidding.”
She nods appreciatively. “I’m giving all my friends a nickname and I said I don’t want to be your friend, but”—she pauses for dramatic effect and puts a finger up—“You get one second chance. I have the perfect nickname for you.” She nods like she’s proud of herself and I bite back a smile.
“That’s very kind of you.”
“Yeah, I know. So, how do you like Lissy ?” She smiles down at me hopefully.
“Okay,” I entertain her. “And what’s your nickname?”
“Well, my name name is Isabelle Faith Carter, but Daddy calls me Belle or Faith when he’s mad or just Carter when he’s really mad.” Her eyes widen a bit, and I bite back a laugh.
“Uncle Sigh and Titi Vid call me Isa and Grandma calls me Bella.” She continues.
I catch the way she says Bella , like beautiful or pretty in Spanish. “What do you want to be called?”
She turns her head to the side as she twirls my hair through all of her tiny fingers. “I like Belle ‘cause that’s the princess’s name.” She looks down at me. “You know Belle? With the Beast and—”
“Yeah, I know her. So you want to be called Belle?”
She nods, but it doesn’t seem like she was even listening to my question as she does something in my hair.
“Can I braid your hair?”
“No, thank you, kiddo. Go ask Titi V if you can braid her hair.” She’s cute, but I’m not letting her tangle my hair after it took so much of my energy to get out of bed and wash it today.
“Titi doesn’t want her hair braided.” Sire quickly saves his girlfriend from having a knot in her pretty curls. “Let’s finish reading, Isa.”
Sire wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer to him as she lets out a laugh.
At the reminder of the conversation I overheard the other day, I sit up and watch Isabelle sound out the words in her book.
After a minute of her trying, Sire reads it for her and that’s how their tutoring session goes for the next five minutes before the teacher in me can no longer take it.
“She’s not going to learn if you just tell her what word it is.”
When Sire glances over at me, it’s clear he’s about to mess with me and tell me to mind my business but he glances at Isabelle before clearly remembering something.
“You have an education degree.” He smiles as he hands me the book. “Help us.”
Vidia flops onto the couch, her brows slightly furrowed. “You studied education?”
I nod as I pick up the book. “I was a special education teacher.” Before I relapsed and got fired for going to work hungover one too many times.
I glance at Sire and he offers me a small smile. I naturally went to him when I lost my job, simply to vent, but then he said I didn’t need a job and he’d take care of everything for me. I didn’t want to let him do that, but he is a trillionaire or something, so I let him and he paid for my rent for the rest of the year before transferring me more money than I’ll ever need.
I tried to pay him back, but we made a deal: As long as I fight my depression and make myself the priority, he’ll help with everything else. So that’s what I’ve been doing.
Not having the stress from having to work has been a huge weight off my chest. I loved my kiddos, but I was depressed that I needed to work, then I was depressed because I got fired. Now I have enough money to not work for the rest of the year and somehow, life still sucks.
Pushing my thoughts away, I sit on the edge of the couch so I’m closer to Isabelle. Since I’m not sure where her standing is, I grab Sire’s laptop to do a short assessment.
I have her make letter-sound associations but after the first two, she turns to me as if I offended her. “I’m five, I know my letters. C-c-cat is with a C . This is too easy.”
I bite back a laugh at how annoyed she is but from what I overheard from her dad, her school thinks she’s really behind.
“Easy means you’re doing good. Let’s continue.”
She shrugs before she turns to the laptop. Instead of simply doing what I said, she cracks her knuckles and pretends to crack her neck before starting, as if this was a competition of a lifetime. Sire and Vidia let out a low laugh before she associates each sound with all the letters in the alphabet with close to no issue.
It isn’t until we start working on CVC words—consonant, vowel, consonant—that she struggles to recognize and pronounce them, but the school year is still very early, so I’m confused as to why her school is blowing this out of proportion.
“Good job.” I give her a high five when she gets one right and her smile lights up the room.
We work on some other things, and Vidia and Sire join here and there, but after a while, they get up to go do something in their room.
We’re in the middle of a new set of words when there’s a knock at the door.
“Let me get that. You’re so close, keep sounding that one out and use the clues in the picture.” I rise from my seat, and when I open the door, Isabelle’s dad is clearly surprised to see me.
“Hey,” he starts slowly, his brows slightly furrowed as he looks into the apartment, most likely for Sire.
“He’s helping V with something in their room.” I take a step to the side so he can enter, and when he does, I expect him to go walk to his kid, but he stays in front of me.
“Hey,” he voices again.
“You already said that.”
A smile grows on his face as a light blush meets his cheeks. Before I can tease him about it, he gets a phone call. I let the door shut as he brings the phone to his ear.
“Jackson Jones.”
I feel my brows pull together but don’t say anything.
After a beat, he says, “Okay, I’ll check when I get home.” With that, he ends the call and turns back to me. “Sorry about that.”
I tell him it’s fine with a slight head shake. “Is your full name Jackson Jones or do you have two first names?”
“The latter.” He shakes his head, almost like he’s had to explain this plenty of times.
“Mom and Dad couldn’t decide?”
He lets out a low laugh that sounds rich as shit and I’m quickly reminded he’s Sire’s agent, and with the suit he’s in, he’s most likely rich as shit. “That’s actually exactly what happened, which was silly since they only ever call me Jackson.”
My eyes scan the rest of his face and I almost ask how old he is because Harmony was right; he’s hot, too hot to be a dad to a five-year-old unless he had her young, but I know he didn’t.
“How was she?” He gestures behind himself.
“Good,” I tell him honestly. “Your kid’s cute.”
A warm smile touches his lips. “Thanks, Lisette.”
“Demeter.” I act as if I’m correcting him.
His brows slightly furrow. “Last time we spoke it was Lisette?”
“That was months ago, you have shit memory. Lissy is my middle name,” I lie and he nods in understanding.
When I see Sire walk up from behind Jackson, he’s shaking his head at me. “What do you gain from constantly lying about minuscule things like that?”
I shrug in return and he shakes his head at me with a smile as he does a short handshake with Jackson who turns to me.
“Your name isn’t Demeter, is it?”
“Nope.” I walk back to the couch and Isabelle jumps up before I can sit.
“It says lid.”
I give her a high five before I sit down. “I told you you could do it.”
She runs over to her dad who scoops her into his arms. “How was your tutoring?”
“Pretty good.” She shrugs. “I think I like Uncle Sigh teaching me more, but Lissy’s not like really bad.” She shrugs again and I know she’s only saying that because it’s easier with Sire, who’s not benefiting her, but I’m offended.
“He can help next time then.” I lean back on the couch, but Sire quickly counters.
“No, you were great. You’re going to help us.”
“Says who?” I mess with him, just to see what he’s going to offer.
“ You were supposed to tutor her,” Jackson points out to Sire. “You seriously passed this on to your sister?” He rolls his eyes at my brother and I watch as if this was a TV because he looks pretty bothered and I know Sire doesn’t like being told what to do. It’s like an alpha fight.
“I didn’t pass it on to her.” Sire rolls his eyes at him now. “She’s a teacher and offered to help.”
“It was barely an offer. I said you were a bad teacher,” I remind him.
Before Sire can counter, Jackson turns his attention to me. “Where do you teach?”
“The Milton Academy.”
His brows slightly raise and Sire laughs from beside him. “Please don’t believe a word this girl says, she’s as unemployed as your child .”
I let out a loud laugh before slapping his leg.
“I have a job.” Isabelle pipes up between us. “I own a bakery and I’m a ballet star , Uncle Sigh. You know that.” Her brows furrow as she looks up at Sire who is quick to apologize profusely to the five-year-old.
When I turn back to Jackson, his attention is on his daughter as he ties her shoe but I still say, “I used to work there. It was my first job.”
His eyes meet mine as he nods in return. “I heard really good things about them. Did you like the job?”
“Yeah, it was hands down my favorite school to work at. I only left to work at a school that was in desperate need of special education teachers.”
He glances at Sire and I hold back a laugh. “That part was true, Jackson Jones.”
His eyes meet mine again and amusement fills them before a ghost of a smile touches his lips. “We have to get going, but it was nice seeing you, not Demeter.”
I bite back a smile, offering a small nod in return as he looks down at his kid.
“Say thank you to Demeter Lissy for helping you with your work.” He gently pushes Isabelle in my direction and a snort escapes me at his words.
“Thank you, Lissy.” Isabelle pulls me into a hug and I pat her back twice before she lets go.
“No problem, kiddo.”