“Can’t spare a single minute for a family friend?” With a snap of his fingers, Ruben’s trained security team slips on their earpieces and turns their backs, pretending to leave me alone with him. Family friend, my foot. Next, he’ll claim to be my godfather. This means he’s gearing up to ask some delicate questions. And if I don’t come up with a convincing lie, I’m in for it.
“What do you and Mia talk about? What’s bothering her? I’d like to be in the loop about my daughter’s troubles. After all, I’m the only one who loves her so deeply and unconditionally. But for some reason, she refuses to open up to me, always acting stubborn and childish. I’m sure, though, that she shares every wild thought with you,” he says, his black eyes locking onto me with a serpent-like gaze that could burn through steel. His full attention is on me now, and it’s starting to get under my skin. I can physically feel my back aching and my legs twisting under the weight of his stare. Ruben has a way of looking at people that makes their skin feel like it’s on fire. He’s a terrifying man, armed with wealth and power. And it’s not even about him being Muslim, as some like to claim. No, religion has nothing to do with it. You’re born a tyrant, and money just polishes the edges.
“Oh, nothing serious, really. Just silly stuff. TV shows, gossip about cute actors. Fashion, girly things like skincare and hair tips,” I say without batting an eye. “No conspiracies, Mr. Tadji. Just goofing around and daydreaming.”
“And boys? Do you talk about men, Jennifer?”
Damn it to hell! Is he mocking me or testing me? He’s sharp as the devil and three times more cunning than all the demons in hell combined.
“It’d be weird if two grown girls didn’t chat about guys,” I reply, meeting his gaze boldly. “What kind of looks we’re into, what traits we’d want in a partner, what it feels like to be loved. But it’s more hypothetical since I’ve got next to no experience with men, and Mia’s still a pure lotus, waiting for her destined, sun-kissed lord.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” His right eyebrow twitches slightly. He listens to me with such a cold expression, as if I’m reading him a grocery list. “You’ve always been a good friend to Mia. But people in our circle don’t make friends—we operate on the principle of using others. My daughter was raised with those values. If you were smarter and more honest with me, Jennifer, you’d be swimming in money by now. I’ve heard enough. You can go. Those born in poverty will never rise to the throne!”
I’m shaking all the way home. This is Ruben Tadji’s favorite tactic—making someone feel utterly worthless, then forcing them to despise their own life. What a narcissistic little god! And he genuinely wonders why his own daughter feels the way she does about him!
Snuggled under the blanket on my narrow couch, I shoot Mia a text:
“Mr. Foo ambushed me around the corner. I was practically tortured—that’s how much Mr. Foo cares about his princess. Then, as usual, he threw mud at me and blessed me to keep begging. Spill that nonsense, Mia. Come up with something more innocent. How about an auction for fetishists, lovers of unwashed laundry?)))”
I add a bunch of emojis and a picture of two cute pandas hugging tightly. “Mr. Foo” is the nickname Mia came up with for her dad when she was ten, and we still use it behind his back sometimes. I plan to wait for her reply, but sleep overtakes me first.
…God, the next morning! Why do I feel like someone disassembled me overnight and slapped me back together in a rush, all wrong? Some days I’ve got two left feet, others my hands feel like they’re growing out of the wrong place. I bolt out the door without even eating breakfast—there’s no time! Today’s my first day at the hardware store. Me and building materials? We’re not even in the same universe, let alone on parallel tracks. But I’m determined to learn the ins and outs of nails, ropes, boards, dry mixes, and a hundred other things.
I dislike the manager from the get-go. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet, and I’m already repulsed. I don’t know, good and kind people just don’t have that sneer on their face or those sleazy eyes. And he keeps licking his lips. Out of the three new hires, he decides to put me through the wringer with his “boot camp.”
“Dumb sheep” is the mildest insult I hear from him in the first half of the day. I can’t even imagine how I’ll survive the second half.
“Enough slacking! Learn to chew faster!” he barks, bursting in just three minutes into my ten-minute lunch break. “And don’t roll your eyes at me! At this rate, you won’t make it through probation!” As he yells, he licks his lower lip four times, his face flushes, and he fiddles with his belt buckle twice. Talk about being assembled from the wrong parts.
“What a creep,” I mutter under my breath, finishing my sandwich after the door slams behind him.
“You can get along with Steven if you find the right approach,” one of the cashiers remarks, also on her lunch break.
“What approach?” I grimace, quickly checking my phone for new messages. Huh, weird. Mia still hasn’t replied, even though the message was delivered and read. No reaction at all. Is she mad that I didn’t stay over last night?
“You’re a girl,” the cashier shrugs, happily slurping something from her bowl. “And women are built to tame any man.”
“That thing isn’t a man,” I retort calmly.
“You’re naive. Steve’s been here a long time. He doesn’t mess with those who play nice. We’ve got single women in the crew, not all of them young, but he doesn’t discriminate. He even hands out bonuses…”
“Okay, stop! I don’t need the details. Life’s scary enough without them. Thanks for the tip, but I’m not that desperate yet, and I’m far from some sad old maid who’d cozy up to that mistake of nature in the warehouse corner for a bonus! If that slob lays a hand on me, I’ll file a harassment complaint!”
“They won’t let you, and no one will back you up. No one will be a witness because everyone’s fine with the status quo. If you don’t like it, you won’t last long here. And besides, Steven is the general director’s son.”
“Got it. Should’ve started with that!” I slam the door and storm back to my workstation, no longer eager to join this tight-knit team. To hell with them!
“Let’s play store clerk and customer,” Steven appears out of nowhere. “I’m the customer. I want to buy sealant. Tell me what’s in stock, how they differ, and the benefits of each!”
With a stone-cold face, I reach for the third shelf. I’m not exactly model-tall, my legs don’t start at my ears, so I have to stand on tiptoe. My shirt rides up, and, just my luck, I catch this creep’s leering gaze. …In moments like this, I wish I had a boyfriend to vent to about this perverted idiot, someone who wouldn’t care whose son he is, who’d just punch him in the face or slam his fingers in a door. Sometimes I wish I had someone who could protect me. I’m not good at fighting people myself, though some really deserve it. No, I guess I’ve got a limited reserve of kindness, or maybe I’m not the “right” kind of woman, or life hasn’t beaten its philosophy into me yet, but I have no intention of taming this lecherous rodent. We won’t get along. Ugh, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have come here at all!
“Too bad no one told your dad to use a condom in time! We’re not playing store, Stevie,” I turn to leave, but Stevie’s clearly not having it.
“Hey, hold it! Did I waste all this time on you for nothing?” He grabs me painfully with his claw-like hands. I can’t think of anything better to do than spit in his face, then manage to grab a drill bit and hold it to his throat. He immediately lets go, hands up. Look at that, he didn’t like it! Because of jerks like him, I’m on my way to becoming a man-hater!
What a pointless day!
Outside, I fish my phone out of my pocket and try calling Mia. I dial her number ten times. She’s never ignored my calls before. She even takes her phone into the bathroom with her. This is starting to seriously worry me. I keep trying while attempting to flag down a taxi.
Twenty minutes later, I’m at the gates of Ruben Tadji’s estate. A two-meter-tall guard at the entrance just shakes his head, blocking my way.
“I’m not allowed in?” I ask, stunned. “Are you mute or something? Where’s Mia? Can someone explain what’s going on? I’m not leaving until I get a straight answer!”
The guard doesn’t care. His overdeveloped muscles seem to have squeezed out any ability to form full sentences; he only manages short, gruff words. But I’m stubborn. I plop down on the curb and start waiting, calling Mia every ten minutes.
Exactly two hours later, stretched to the breaking point with worry for my friend, I spot the return of her tyrant father. My anxiety must have completely stripped me of fear because I rush toward the car, forcing the driver to stop.
“I want to know why I can’t see Mia! And why isn’t she answering my calls?” I shout, loud enough for Ruben to hear.
The passenger door cracks open slightly. Are they actually going to answer me?
“I will no longer allow my daughter to associate with a vile creature who convinced her to auction off her virginity for fun!” Ruben spits out each word with venom. “Get lost! We don’t want to see you ever again! Because of you, my daughter’s honor has been tarnished! Be grateful we haven’t dealt with you as you deserve!”
“Me?” My voice comes out as a hollow gasp.
I’ve never felt such humiliation, such confusion… such devastating betrayal in my life. I’ve never been crushed so painfully before. …I don’t know how long I wandered on foot, trying to stop crying and piece my thoughts together. Could she really have sacrificed our friendship to escape her father’s wrath? I couldn’t believe it. …I just couldn’t. Muttering to myself, I don’t even remember boarding a bus or getting home. This wasn’t just a shock. For the first time, my heart ached, and I learned that the soul can hurt too. I don’t know if something like this can be forgiven, or how to even begin. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust again. I don’t understand who I’ve been friends with for the past eighteen years. How could she lie so cruelly??? …And somewhere deep inside, a tiny spark of hope refuses to die, whispering that Ruben misled me, that Mia couldn’t possibly betray me like this.
“Here,” Cindy greets me at the door, nodding toward our mother lying in the hallway. My younger sister, judging by her garish makeup, is clearly headed to one of those cheap clubs again. “She’s drunk again! Said her lover dumped her. Deal with it yourself—I already called Dr. Torrens.”
“She had a lover?” I mumble tiredly, almost inaudibly, wishing more than anything to rewind this day or hit pause.
“No clue! I’m out!” Cindy slams the door, making it clear how pissed she is at our mom.
Kneeling beside my mother, I try to gently turn her over:
“My poor thing, how did this happen? You know you’re not supposed to drink,” I say, though she can’t hear me. I keep talking anyway. “We’ve both had a rotten day, Mom. You’d probably tell me it’s solar flares or Uranus in Capricorn causing all this mess, or that you drew a bad card today—the reversed Queen of Swords or the Wheel of Fortune. Jack will be here soon to set up an IV, and you’ll feel better right away. …But an IV won’t help me. And I don’t even know what to do.”