What To Do When His Girl Isn't You

Chapter 6

I wake up feeling refreshed and absolutely ready to get this day started. Which is really rare for me, as I normally can’t stand mornings.

I quickly jump in the shower, taking a moment to enjoy the warm water flowing over my flawless skin. My parents may be shit at a lot of things, but damn, did they breed well.

After I’ve dried my hair and slipped into my favorite lacy underwear set (just in case!), I pushed through the double doors of my closet. I flicked through the rack on the far left wall, where I kept all of my favorite pieces that were reserved for special occasions. Like today. The day I am finally going to get Max. For real this time, I mean.

I thought Max would be easy, but I have to admit, I don’t hate the challenge. It gets boring when all it takes is one look and you have at least ten guys drooling at your feet. Max is different. Max is fun. Max is mine.

I push away my Agnes B smock dress and my Elie Saab evening gown, expecting it to be placed perfectly in between the two. But it’s not.

“VICTORIA!” I shout as loudly as I can. I count to three in my head. When she’s still not here, I shout again. “Victoria, get your ass in here!”

That stupid maid! I told Daddy not to fire Valencia! We didn’t need a new maid, but no, he said. Victoria would be better. This is not better, Daddy! This is a disaster!

I hear the footsteps of her clunky Keds, and in a few seconds her face peers around the door to the closet.

“Well don’t just stand there!” I exclaim. “Come! Now!”

“Is there a problem, Miss Aubrey?” she asks meekly, as she stumbles nervously to my side.

“Don’t mumble!” I yell, and she jumps.

“Is there a problem, Miss Aubrey?” Victoria asks again, louder.

“No, Victoria, there is not a problem,” I tell her calmly, while eyeing her dangerously. “I just called you in here for my own damn health. Yes! Yes, there is a problem! A f*cking huge one!”

“What is the problem, Miss Aubrey?” she says.

“This,” I say, ripping the Agnes B dress off the hanger and shoving it in her face. “is my 16th birthday present Agnes B smock.”

I throw it on the ground like a piece of trash before snatching the gown from its hanger.

“This is my Elie Saab apology present for having to go to Daddy’s company party last winter,” I tell her, discarding that dress as well. Victoria stares blankly. “DO YOU NOT SEE THE PROBLEM HERE!”

“Ah!” Victoria jumps and yelps like a little puppy. “No, Miss Aubrey, I am sorry but I do not see the problem here. You are going to be late, though, if you don’t-”

“Shut up, and do not tell me what to do right now!” I scream, feeling my face go red. She quivers, and for a second I feel bad for her, but this is her fault after all. I take a calming breath before speaking again. “In between Agnes B and Elie Saab is Emilio Pucci! Always, always, always!”

“Miss Aubrey,” Victoria started. “Maybe you put Emilio Pucci back somewhere else last time.”

“No!” I roar at her. “No, I did not! I know this because I’ve never worn this Emilio Pucci scarf before! It was an apology present from my parents for missing Thanksgiving, and now it’s gone! I was saving it for the perfect day, and now the perfect day is here, and it’s gone!”

At this point, I can barely control myself. I feel tears brimming in my eyes, but I fight hard to keep them from falling. Aubrey Marx does not cry.