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Heart of Gold (The Golden Boys - Book 1) Page 2
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I shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not so bad.”
“Your Mama?”
I nodded into her shoulder and patted her shoulder as if I was the one consoling her. My coldness slipped over my emotions like a glove. It was easier to wrap a barrier of ice around the screaming, poop slinging anger monkey inside my head then let him out.
“She got me with the edge of a bottle. Didn’t break, though.” My voice was without emotion.
“How much money do you need? How much until you'll finally leave that woman behind?” Rina had offered to give me the money so many times but I had always said no. I couldn’t take money from her.
“Soon.” I promised. “I’m almost there.”
Dooley Road, where the ‘Blue Sky Heights' Trailer Park' was located on the wrong side of town, was hidden in the overgrowth trees and off the beaten track. My flats slipped against the dirt path, as I walked further away from the quaint small-town vibe of Goldryn Bois and into the Sticks.
Rina had walked me out to the end of Main, but I didn’t like her going further.
The town was full of Mom and Pop businesses and dotted with random designer stores. It was easy to forget that Goldryn Bois housed some of the richest families to come out of Louisiana since the slavers owned plantations.
Goldryn Row, the hoity-toity gated community, was way on the other side of town; and it was Rina's home. I lived on the 'wrong' side of town, away from the iron gates and swimming pools on Goldryn Row.
We had both met at high school. I was one of the only poor kids in a sea of Louis Vuitton handbags and Louboutin’s shoes worn with our school uniform. Rina was the only girl at Goldryn High School to have outrageous hair and to wear her blazer inside out. Reginald Langley the Third, aka Rina's Daddy, had not been pleased when her rebellion started. He was even less impressed when it didn’t end and it became apparent that what he thought was a phase was just Rina.
Mama had a job until I was about ten. We never talked about why Mama lost her job, but it orbited the fact my Pop committed suicide by sucking a pistol.
I remembered fumbling through Mama's pockets, as a child, whilst she slept so I could find enough money for lunch at school back then. I'd been smelly and hungry and I’d quickly learnt how to take care of myself to stop social services from sniffing around.
It was an hour and a half of slogging in the heat. My flats would have stuck to it if the path had been cement. I checked my old-school Casio watch, my one belonging that had once been my father’s, and hurried home.
Not only was I hot and sweaty with deodorant that appeared to be failing, but I was greeted with grunting and the obvious sounds of fucking when I opened the door--which was just great.
Without emotion, I ignored the used condom on the floor in the corner and started boiling potatoes.
My suspicions had been correct. Any quick food that I’d bought for myself and Mama was the kind that could probably be cooked without burning down the trailer, even if she was three sheets to the wind. It had gone so quickly.
Mama's men had been eating it. I resisted the urge to slam the cabinet door.
I made mashed potatoes and I seasoned them with a spoonful of mustard from the bottle in the fridge. It wasn’t the best meal in the world, but I needed fuel. I ate out of the saucepan as I read a book on the Kindle app on my phone. I ignored the giant crack on the screen, even though it made it hard to see the top half of every single page. I had work soon and I needed a shower.
After finishing my strange meal, I stepped into the harsh boiling spray and washed all of the muck from my brief outing out of my hair and off of my body.
I needed to get a hustle on. I'd have to do my makeup at work because it was going to slide right off my face in the afternoon sun. I was on the nightshift and I would be lucky if I caught the tail end of the dinner rush.
Short skirt and a high ponytail. There were no streetlights on Dooley Road, but we were far enough from the water's edge that I didn’t worry too much about predators. The scaly kind, not the human kind. I had my pepper spray in my worn black handbag, but doubted it would do much against a gator if it came down to it.
My flashlight was pink and highlighted my route until I got to the safety of the main road, which was onto the edge of the 603 into town. I needed a car something awful, but I didn’t have the money to spare. At least I could function easy enough by walking, and the worst-case scenario would mean a bus journey into Lafayette.
I walked through the back of the diner. I didn’t want any of the customers to see me without a full face of makeup. I needed to make tips up somehow.
I'd been told by some people that I had a pretty face. Frizzy brown hair and wide hazel eyes that I couldn’t find on my Mama's face but must have come from somewhere. Mama’s were always bloodshot though, and the bags under my eyes from exhaustion and stress weren’t going away.
I paid extra attention to the bruise on my forehead and dabbed it with concealer. I knew that the fluorescents of the diner would hide my shame, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.
I put a little wiggle into my step as I went about my shift, refilling coffees and serving up food to the hungry folks passing through.
Not many Goldryn Bois residents came to the Judy's Diner. It was on the way out of town and there were plenty of fancier places to eat on Main. I couldn’t afford it but Rina had gone on tons of Tinder dates at Gio's, the Italian place next to Madam Wise's Tea Emporium.
There were a group of young men in my corner, suits and ties. Not the usual clientele. I was more at ease with the bikers that passed through, but you'd never know it as my smile was spread from ear to ear.
I put a swish in my step and pulled out my pad. “Welcome to Judy's, my name is Harriet but y'all can call me Harry. Is there anything I can get you?”
And just like that, the bottom fell out of my bucket.
The three men looked similar, eyes the colour of bluebells and hair as dark as night, but that was where the similarities ended.
My eyes met the harsh ice of the man in the centre of the booth. His jaw was square and his hair was combed back real nice. He looked like the kind of man that wore his indifference like a shield. He made my heart start beating really quickly. Doki-Doki was the Japanese term for it. I would have fanned myself but it wasn’t appropriate. Angry eyes that stared into my soul and left me feeling as big as a flea.
The man nearest to me wore a smile like a sunbeam, wiggling in his seat like a puppy, catching my attention and pulling it away from the silent giant.
“Hiya darlin’, you wouldn’t be able to tell me what that delicious smell is? Could you?” The smiley one asked.
I stifled a laugh at his easy charm. “That’s the key lime pie. Every Thursday on the clock.” I gave him a wink, pouring on the southern charm. For some reason, I just couldn’t help myself. I looked at each of the men and realisation slotted onto my face like a Tetris line. These were the Gold brothers. Julian the joker. Elliot the Iceman and Nathaniel the animal. They'd all been a few grades above me at school. Elliot was the oldest, Julian was the middle child and Nathanial was the tattooed baby of the family.
My eyes caught on the man at the centre of the booth again, Elliot Gold. The Iceman. Cold. Calculating. He was studying me as if he could see right through my facade and I did not like it one iota. I'd read an article in the Goldryn Shopper about all his business ventures. He was a shark.
I saw his expression darken as realisation dawned on my face. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned back to Julian. I guessed he would be the safer option.
“It’s not often we get the Gold brothers on our side of town.” I winked, “I’ll get you some coffee and key lime pie. Just holler if you need anything else.”
I walked away from the three richest and eligible bachelors’ in Goldryn Bois. No wonder Julian had been so bouncy. He probably found it hilarious that the dumb waitress didn’t recognise the three people that owned most of the town.
My phon
e vibrated and every ounce of good feeling fled.
I plated up the pie and delivered it to the table with a smile. I excused myself and let Mary know that I’d be in the restroom.
I sat on the closed lid of the toilet and pulled out my phone.
Your Mama just left with a bunch of out of towners. I think she's taking them back to your place.
There was nothing I could do. I'd just come on my shift and I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t leave Mary to run the whole diner by herself. I also needed the money.
I rubbed my hand over my face and sighed. The kind of deep and bone-weary breath that felt like my soul was leaving my body.
I knew for a fact that I’d have to bleach the trailer from top to bottom, at best. I didn’t even want to think about the worst-case scenario.
At least I’d locked my bedroom door when I’d left.
I stood up and shook my arms out, letting my muscles turn to jelly. I took deep breaths and pulled my lips into a bright smile. I could get through my shift. I just needed to push all the shit that was flying around my head down to the balls of my feet and out of existence. I stepped out of the bathroom, but I didn’t look up until I found myself knocked back a step by a hard body in my way.
I blinked up, slowly, confused, only to find myself staring into the eyes of the Iceman.
Somehow, the stranger had the ability to make me shrivel back and want to curl into a ball. His bearing was so broad and confident that it highlighted everything that I hated about myself.
He had money and I didn’t.
He'd probably gone to college and had some fancy law degree. Harvard. Yale. One of those. Did it make him better than me? Not a chance. But I couldn’t tell my flaming cheeks and tummy full of butterflies that.
I squirmed on the spot and apologised with a mumble. I expected him to step to the side and let me pass. The thin corridor from the restrooms wasn't wide enough for two people. Elliot Gold did not move.
His eyes narrowed and flicked to my forehead. A shadow passed over his face and his lip curled in a way that I could only describe as distaste. The Iceman turned and walked away with a shake of his head.
I could only watch, frozen and confused.
I walked behind the counter and pulled the fresh coffee pot off the burner. I walked to their table to offer a refill, darting across the linoleum.
“This place is a dive.” Elliott’s voice dripped with distain. “Why did we have to come here? I can feel my IQ dropping just being here.”
“God, Elliot. Don’t pull any punches. You're in a shitty mood today.” Julian griped.
“You’d be in a shitty mood if you had to watch your brother flirt with a waitress of questionable intelligence. She’s smiling, for sure. But you can tell, the wheel’s turning but the hamster is dead.”
I didn’t feel anger the way that regular people did. I tended to shut down and go numb, but something about Elliot Gold's words hit me the wrong way. I was vibrating with fury and clenched teeth. My fists were right. Nails digging into the palms of my hands. That... Asshole!
I don’t how I did it, but I kept my lips zipped and my smile in place as I refilled their coffee mugs a few minutes later. I pretended that I hadn’t heard Elliott’s insulting words. After all, I was just a waitress. I wanted to spit in his pie. I wouldn’t actually do it, but it was so tempting.
I turned on my heel and walked back to the counter and pushed the pot back on the burner.
“What’s got you in a snit?” Mary laughed from behind the counter.
“Nothing.” I took out my cloth and started polishing the cake cabinet after glancing around to check on my tables.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Mary crossed her arms over her chest.
My eyes flicked to the Gold brothers in the corner of my section.
“Are those the—”
“Uh-huh.” I said, rubbing the glass harder than necessary.
“Maybe you should go over and ask if they want anything else, if you get my drift?” Mary waggled her eyebrows and I snorted in disgust.
“You see that one there?” My eyes flicked to Elliot, “The one with an expression like a smacked ass?”
“Oh, you mean Elliot Iceman Gold. Yeah. I know him.” Mary sighed dreamily.
“He’s an asshole.” I put my cloth down and excused myself to wash my hands.
I was more than a waitress. I was a person. I took photos in my spare time. I was a damn good friend and a caretaker to my Mama. I had straight As in school. There was no shame in being a waitress, but the way that the pompous rich boy had said it made me feel smaller than a flea. I was smart. I may have hidden behind a smile and kind words, but I knew my worth.
“I’m a Gold digger.” Mary winked. “Get it? Because his surname is Gold?”
I rolled my eyes.
I tried to get Elliot Gold's harsh words out of my mind but my anger was vast. Bottomless. I tried not to feel hurt but failed. His words echoed over and over. I hadn’t been a person to him; he'd identified me by my wage bracket.
I ignored their table as I refilled coffee and took orders; and, I instead asked Mary to take care of them. She was ecstatic.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I ignored it as I placed a bowl of François’ jambalaya in front of an out-of-towner.
“You'll love it if you like your head blown clean off.” I laughed as I gave the man his cutlery.
“Who doesn’t like a bit of spice?” The middle-aged man in an ill-fitting suit joked.
“I don’t know about you, but I have to take a three-day break in-between bowls of that stuff.” I laughed. “I’m getting too old for all that heartburn.”
“You can't be more than twenty-one, Sugar.” The customer said. “Come back when you get heartburn from drinking coffee too fast.”
“You got me there.” I winked as I walked away.
Mary had gone on her break and time had whizzed past. I was clearing the Gold brother's table before I knew it. They'd left without a word.
I moved the coffee cup and balanced it the plate in my hands. Benjamin Franklin's face greeted me and went straight in the tip jar.
My shift had started at 8pm on Thursday and ended on 3pm on Friday. I was dead on my feet. Nightshifts were hard, especially with the long dull stretches in the empty diner. We got all sorts coming through the doors, but even so, it got tiring after a while.
I had ignored my phone the entire shift. The image of the open-ended used condom on the grey stained carpet caused a slow burning rage that didn’t falter and added to the sludge that Elliot Gold had created. I had no idea what my Mama was up to, but I’d had enough.
My tips were better than I expected and split between Mary and I. I had just about enough for ground rent on the trailed for the week and groceries. I tried not to think about my jewellery box full of cash under my bed but a tiny sliver of excitement pulsed through my chest.
It was happening. I’d get a greyhound from the bus station on the 603 to Baton Rouge, maybe even as far as New Orleans. I could get an apartment with a roommate. Bartend. Waitress. I did not care. I wanted to lose myself in the anonymity of the big city. I wanted to take photos again and capture something worthwhile.
I didn’t have money to waste on a water taxi, so I decided to walk home. My feet pulsated with every step but I made it. I had about three hours before Rina wanted to start getting ready for the masquerade. Part of me wanted to cancel, but she'd gone to so much trouble that it didn’t feel right.
Mama wasn’t in the trailer when I got home, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. I had expected beer cans out of the wazoo, but instead, everything was surprisingly tidy. Tabby, the bartender at the Steel Trap, must have gotten her information mixed up because it didn’t look like Mama had been home at all.
I pulled my hair out of its tight ponytail and fluffed it with my fingers. There was a skip in my step and for the first time in a long while, a light at the end of the tunnel. Cash. Bus. New life.
M
y bedroom door was open, which was strange because I was certain I had locked it. My barefoot caught on the sharp bobby pin on the threshold and I hissed a breath between my teeth. No. No. No. The denial echoed through my mind and my heart rose to my throat. I couldn’t breathe. My stomach started to roll and writhe like a pit of snakes.
My room was my pride. I kept my sheets clean and my bed made. All my books were in colour order and my Harry Potter Funko Pops (a gift from Rina) were all neatly displayed.
Or they had been when I had left home yesterday.
Goose down littered the floor as if someone had taken a knife to my pillows. Pages were ripped out of my books and there was broken glass on the floor from my vanity mirror.
No other part of the trailer had been touched.
I picked up the discarded innards of my favourite novels. Their words dotted around like ashes from a bonfire. City of Bones was shredded. Fault in our Stars was beyond repair. My Gryffindor edition of the Sorcerer’s Stone? Torn in two.
I sunk to my knees, unable to care when the broken mirrored glass sliced my flesh.
I was numb.
Until I saw the jewellery box under the bed was open. My tacky teenage necklaces were strewn about like shrapnel. A casualty in Mama's search for my stash of money.
My escape was gone.
Rina’s red BMW convertible looked so out of place on the dirt road that I would have laughed, if I had been in a better mood.
My best friend pushed her vintage cat eye sunglasses onto the crown of her head, and gestured for me to get into the car. I said nothing as I hauled my black duffle over my shoulders.
I had a hundred dollars to my name. The sum of Thursday night’s tips. Everything else was gone.
“I got your gown from Looky-Lu's; I hope you don’t mind.” Rina jabbered one, happy to fill the silence. “Your measurements haven’t changed since last year, have they?”
I shook my head and faced out the window as the tall iron gates of Rina’s neighbourhood drew into my vision. I didn’t want to argue about the cost of the dress, but Looky-Lu's, the boutique in town, had a waiting list about a mile long. A lump had sprung inside of my throat and it made it painful to swallow. I couldn’t ever afford to pay Rina back for the dress.