Wild Bastard

13

"Is it necessary? "

Sitting in a cab, I skeptically examine the semblance of clothes that Lana dressed me in.

Short white skinny jeans with small slits at the knees and a loose Tiffany top. Damn, I'm afraid to even move in them. I've never worn clothes worth my monthly salary before.

"Of course it is! I told my father you were my friend. If he finds out you're just a bartender, he won't let me near you, sorry!" Lana's guilty eyes scrutinize my hair.

After asking Kate to switch with me tonight so I wouldn't have to go home to Lana in the middle of the night after my shift, I feel as if I'm being driven to some kind of exhibition. In fact, I am, so in order to please Lana's father, I allow my friend all these manipulations.

"It's okay, I understand," I reply encouragingly.

"Look, I'm going to tighten your ponytail, okay? It's just your hair's not very shiny."

It's not shiny at all, and I want to correct her, but I won't say anything.

"I can do it myself."

"May I? It's my pleasure to do something for you" Lana's sincere smile resonates in my heart, and I can think of nothing better to do than nod in response.

In my heart I am eternally grateful to this girl for saving my ass from the prospect of life on the streets for the second time in a short time.

Of course, I don't want to cross paths with her bastard brother, but when it comes to a night in the utility closet or a chance to live in a normal house for the first time in my life, I'll choose the latter. I'll deal with the bastard somehow. Somewhere deep in my subconscious, there is a thought that this will be quite difficult, given that the bastard is attacking like a tank, ignoring all my barricades put up, but I shut it up. We arrive in a neighborhood on the other side of town. Sergio lives here somewhere, I remember driving in the same direction yesterday.

A three-story ivory house greets us with its terrifying grandeur. Wow. I thought Sergio's house was posh, but he's just middle class compared to this gorgeous hulk. All the windows of the facade of the house are panoramic, and from here you can see the living room and dining room. And even the steps leading upstairs.

"Let's go" Lana drags me by the hand down the path, and opens the door. I freeze on the threshold.

God, you could set up a camp of Massimo Torricelli's groupies here, gathered all over the world.

The orphanage was even smaller.

"Come in" The girl pushes me, suddenly snatching my bag and hiding it behind my back. "Hi, dad"

I glance sharply to the right. A middle-aged man, well-groomed, stately, in an expensive suit the color of a raven's wing is heading our way. Mr. Cahlon doesn't even linger beside us. As he passes by, he just glances at me and nods.

"Good evening, girls. Come on in. Laura is setting the table right now. I won't have time for dinner with you, I have a plane in two hours."

"Okay, dad" The sly fox chirps from behind and pushes me in the direction of the dining room, located to the right of the stairs, "Wait here, I'll quickly hide the evidence and be back," Pointing her finger at the bag, the heiress of this wealth goes to the stairs.

Okay, I'll wait here. I enter the spacious dining room with the oval table in the middle and six chairs. On a perfectly white tablecloth four cutlery dishes are already on display.

My gaze falls upon a slice of basturma and jamon. My mouth instantly collects saliva. The burger I ate at lunch is long overcooked, and now my taste buds are going crazy looking at this gastronomic splendor. Without thinking too much, I pick up a thin slice of basturma and pop it in my mouth. Oh, my God... I've always dreamed of trying something other than sausage.