Everything We Would've Been

Chapter Three: Emilia

"So, what do you wanna do?" Andre asked as he handed me my latte.

"Oh, you're my hero," I said as I took the first sip.

I knew I'd drunk more than I should've last night. But I didn't think I'd have a hangover the size of fucking UC Berkeley. Andre laughed and ruffled my hair.

"So, praise me."

"Umm, I think I could fit that into my schedule too," I said with a wink and he rolled his eyes. "Okay, so, Connor's going home for a while. He was supposed to leave this morning. So, I don't think I have to see him for a while. I'll be here for like two weeks or so before I head to my demise."

Andre laughed at how I phrased going to my parents' house in Los Angeles. Summer break is truly torture.

"It still gets me every time I remember the deal you made with your dad."

"It was either I dedicated my summers to family and the company or I'd have to go to school with a bodyguard. I take two months of torture over twelve," I said.

"Well, when you put it that way I can't argue."

"What are you up to?"

"Ugh, I have to go back tonight for board meetings this week," he said and made himself a second espresso. "I swear the only reason my father keeps me on the company board is to remind me every month that I'm a Franzetti and have a legacy to live up to."

His sigh always cuts deep. I get it, probably better than anyone else around us. I know the pressure he's under and his desire to make something of himself. The thing is he's made something of himself already. His last name might have opened some doors for him when he started developing tech and software but that's all he's taken from his father. At twenty-seven he's a self-made billionaire with a tech-developing company, a marketing and advertisement agency, a luxury goods business, a bar, and a nightclub not to mention his countless investments in different companies. Andre might look like a carefree playboy from the outside but anyone with two brain cells wouldn't cross him, not in business and not in personal life.

"So, I see you before I head to LA?"

"Hopefully. If not, I'll be there next month, we can catch up then."

"Yes, please."

By the time I got home that day, Connor, Opal, and Nick were all gone. I knew Nick and Opal were hitting the roads together for a few weeks before they each went home to see their families. Connor was just in San Francisco so he might drop on us at any moment. And Candace wouldn't leave. Mostly because she hates her stepfather and her mother for marrying an abusive alcoholic man. I was glad she was home. But I really felt bad for leaving her on her own for two months. I knew Connor would check up on her and they'd hang out while I was gone playing the socialite and the heiress. But it didn't make me feel any better.

I worked every night for the two weeks I had before I had to head to Los Angeles. Gioielle, Andre's bar, my place of part-time job was busier than ever. It helped me get Connor out of my head for a few hours every day while I made drinks and served countless people every night. By the time I got home every night, I was on the brink of passing out in the hallway. It was better than thinking about Connor and what I was supposed to do constantly.

I think it's funny how City of Angels was its own kind of hell for me. I couldn't be myself to the point that I didn't bother taking more than a carry-on of my clothes with me. I had everything there. I just needed some personal items. I got on the road pretty early in the morning so I could stop whenever I wanted and not be on the road at night.

I was glad that during the mess of events and meetings I was supposed to attend while I was in Los Angeles, I could squeeze in a month-long internship at one of the top architecture firms in the city. The managing partner was an old friend of my father's so my hours were kind of flexible. But I needed experience and I would get it wherever I could.

I knew what I was doing and what I had promised my father when I negotiated to change my last name from Dawson to Davis. He agreed to let me change my last name under three conditions. If I stayed out of trouble at school. If I'd stop complaining about attending events and meetings in the months of June and July while I don't have classes. And if I'd change my last name back to Dawson after I'm done with school and experiencing a normal life. He even made me sign a contract so I wouldn't back out of the deal.

He gave me ten years. It was more than enough to do everything I wanted to do in my twenties. I didn't mind being a Dawson. But I needed to know I could make something of myself if I wasn't one. So, I'm working my ass off. I'm top of my class. I'm working on my social anxiety. I'm always working or interning any time I can and anywhere I can. I wanted a shining resume by the time I graduated.

I know the moment I said I wanted to be an architect my dad founded a firm for me. It's just going to be on paper until I decide to change my name back to Dawson. But as soon as I do, I have my own firm. But I want to earn it. I'm not going to open a firm with no actual field experience. I'm not going to be the disaster my older sister, Ember was, opening a hair care company when she was still in college while having no idea how anything worked. So naturally it went bankrupt after two years even with millions of dollars my father poured into the company.

The thing is I'm his heiress. I'm the one who's going to step in as the CEO when my father decides to step down. And I act like it whether I like it or not. I'm not gonna be a laughing stock, not now and not when I take over.