Two

CHAPTER TWO

Anne

There was a time I loved designer clothes. Everything from Chanel and Christian Dior to Versace, and all the other top designers.

Today, not so much.

Not since I stopped being able to afford buying them.

Walking through the luxury boutique, I resented that I was forced to sell the clothing as a retail worker instead of buying and wearing it. Chez Monceaux was one of the top women’s and men’s clothiers in Los Angeles. Everyone from the rich and famous, celebrities, and politicians bought clothes. For a time, I’d shopped there and so I felt like a loser than now I was working there.

I knew people would see me as shallow for such thoughts, but clothing and jewelry were my passions, and I didn’t mean shopping. I meant studying them, designing them, enjoying them.

My situation would be similar to an artist who couldn’t afford to buy art.

A chef who couldn’t afford to cook.

Stop being a baby, Anne.

It wasn’t easy to go from riches to rags.

In some ways, I wished my father had cut me off as a child so I wouldn’t have grown accustomed to having money. I’d always known my father didn’t like me, but he’d raised me in affluence, provided an allowance, and paid for my college education.

The day I graduated, he cut me off. I was shocked.

When I asked him why, he said he’d done his duty by me, but now that I

was an adult, it was time to grow up and support myself.

I might have bought that excuse if he’d done the same thing to my older brother, Peter. When I pointed out that Peter was still getting an allowance, my father shocked me even further by revealing the reason he hated me. “Peter didn’t kill his mother.”

My mother had died not long after giving birth to me and my father blamed me for it. There was no way to overcome that.

I made one final attempt at help, asking him to let me work for the company, just as Peter did, but it was clear that he’d tolerated me for twenty- one years and now he wanted me gone.

So, for the last eight years, I’d done what I could to maintain the illusion of coming from money while working at jobs that barely supported me.

Had I known I was going to be cut off, I might have chosen a college major that would have better supported me instead of art and design.

The bell chimed over the boutique door. I looked up from where I finished hanging the latest Ralph Lauren sweaters on the rack and my heart stopped at the two women who entered.

Danielle and Sasha were sorority sisters of mine back in college. Both had huge rocks on their left ring fingers and hair coloring that came from a very expensive salon. I remembered how they’d joke that they went to college to find a rich husband, which each of them did.

At the time, I thought they were silly. A woman didn’t need a man to be happy or successful.

I was too embarrassed to admit it, but when my father cut me off, I thought marriage to a rich man would be my savior. Turned out, I couldn’t even do that right.

Not wanting the women to see me in my down and out state, I ducked into the dressing area, hoping they’d browse and then leave. Just my luck, they entered the dressing area carrying a few clothing items. I grabbed an item hanging on the return rack, clutching it to me.

“Anne?” Danielle asked.

“Danielle, Sasha, hello. What a small world to run into you here.” I held the item up, only then realizing it was several sizes too big. “I was looking for something for the Appleton Charity Auction. Looks like I grabbed the wrong size.”

Sasha glanced at Danielle. “Wasn’t that last week?” Oh God. She was right.

My boss appeared from around the corner. “Ms. Francis. There is a customer at the register.”

Danielle and Sasha’s brows rose.

“You work here?” Danielle asked. Their normal smiles morphed into smirks.

“Ah…no…I…”

But it was too late. They laughed and made their way to a dressing room. “My, how the mighty have fallen,” Sasha said.

I put the dress back on the rack and started to the register. So much for hiding my impoverished life. It wouldn’t be long before the invitations to elite events and gatherings stopped.

“Ms. Francis.”

“Yes. I’ll take care—”

My boss stepped in front of me before I reached the register. “You think you’re too good for us, don’t you?”

I suppose I did, but I wasn’t going to admit to that.

“There are plenty of women who’d be happy to have this job.” I was sure that was true too. “I’m sorry—”

“You’re fired.”

“What?” The bottom fell out of my stomach. Sure, I was resentful of my circumstances, but I needed this job. I was good at it.

“You think you’re better than all of us. Think you’re too good for this job. I don’t want you here anymore. You can pick up your last check at the end of the week.” She stepped up to the register and rang up the woman’s items.

I stood in the middle of the store, stunned. I was still in a daze as I headed home.

Once in my apartment, I poured myself a large glass of wine and sat on the couch to have a pity party. I wasn’t so self-absorbed to know that my attitude was a problem.

But it wasn’t that I thought I was better than anyone else. My issue was in losing the life I’d been accustomed to.

That and the gossip, the looks, and snickers of people who’d once been my friends who now looked down on me because I wasn’t rich anymore. That is, except Harper.

Needing a friend, I called Harper and invited her over for day drinking. Harper was exactly the sort of woman I’d normally resent. She was filthy rich

and didn’t have to work. I’d met her at a dinner party when I was hoping I could attract Dane MacLeod and marry into money.

I didn’t end up with a rich husband, but I did make a good friend.

Harper didn’t have a career per se. She used her beauty and social skills to help her brother in business deals because he was terrible when it came to people. She was also involved in a lot of charitable causes.

“I brought bourbon and whisky,” she said when she swept into my tiny run-down apartment.

“How’d you know?” I hadn’t told her my sob story over the phone.

“Day drinking usually means bad news. Plus, you’re supposed to be at work. Did you quit?”

I shook my head. “I was fired.”

She gaped. “Why? You’re so good. I’d have never bought that Chanel dress I wore to the Taggert party. But when you suggested it and the accessories, I was the best dressed woman there. I think three men proposed to me.”

She was joking, but it could be true. Harper was a stunning woman with money. Every man wanted her. She didn’t seem to have much interest in any of them though.

“I was trying to act like I didn’t work there when two of my former sorority sisters showed up. I really can’t afford to be a snob, but—”

“You’re not a snob.” She put her arm around me. “You’ve lived your life having financial security, and then it was ripped away. You don’t just change and stop being the person you were before.”

Of course, I’d had eight years to adjust, but I decided not to mention that.

Instead, I got us glasses and we sat on my couch. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

I downed the ounce of bourbon and poured more as worry turned to panic. How was I going to pay my bills? My electric bill was late as it was. Was I going to end up homeless?

“Why not ask Peter for help? He’s helped you in the past.”

Harper slipped her sandals off and tucked her feet underneath her, settling in for a long afternoon. I was so grateful to have her in my life.

I shook my head.

“I only go to him as a last resort. He always makes me feel like a loser when I ask.”

My brother was becoming more and more like my father. He’d tell me to

get a job and earn the money like he did. What he didn’t realize was that he was given the money and a job by our father. He didn’t earn it. “If only I could find a rich husband.”

Harper laughed. “A man will only make your problems worse, trust me. You need to find a way to build your own life. What about the business? I know that got all messed up with my stalker, but—”

For a time, I’d planned to start my own design business and Harper said she’d invest. But now I didn’t think that was a good idea.

“No. It’s too risky and I don’t want to lose your money. Besides, Bran would have a coronary if he found out.”

She made a face. “Bran has nothing to do with my money. You should do the same. Build your own life out of the shadow of your family’s money.”

That was easier said than done. “Sounds great. Where do I sign up? As it is, I won’t be able to afford this shithole apartment.”

“It’s not a shithole. Don’t you remember? You corrected Bran on that.” I laughed. “At least I still have my hatred of Bran.”

The man was the bane of my existence. He looked at me like I was old gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. He regarded me as a leech, trying to get money and prestige from Harper.

It was another reason I backed out of having her invest in my business idea. If it failed, he’d have more fodder with which to flame me.

I was too ashamed to admit to Harper that when it was clear Dane wasn’t going to fall for me, I had a moment of setting my sights on Bran.

The guy was model-level handsome, and it was clear he valued family. I never questioned his love and devotion to Harper. What turned me off was how controlling he was toward Harper.

“I’m still pissed at him too. He keeps calling, but I don’t answer.” She made a face and sipped her bourbon.

“You’re going to forgive him someday, though, aren’t you?” They had no other family, so I was sure at some point they’d reconcile. She just needed to punish him for a bit.

“I don’t know. I’m sick and tired of how he still thinks he’s the boss of me. He doesn’t recognize my value in helping him in business. It’s like I’m an accessory, all shiny and expensive.”

“I wouldn’t mind being an accessory,” I joked. Sort of. Harper laughed. “Do you want to be Bran’s accessory?”

“No.” I said it with conviction, but I couldn’t be sure if the opportunity

came to be his accessory that I wouldn’t take it. I felt a little sick at that idea.

Was I so desperate, shallow, and vain that I’d be arm candy for my nemesis?

I was an intelligent woman. Surely, I could build a life like Harper encouraged me to do. But the reality was, in the eight years I’d been on my own, I’d gotten by, but I’d never achieved anything beyond helping dress up rich women. I felt I deserved more in life, but maybe I didn’t.