The pickpocket and the billionaire

Chapter 11

11

“I don’t think he’s coming.” I said softly. Mrs Boggs comfortingly rubbed my knee and gave me a sympathetic look. She was crouched in front of me, while I was sitting on my bed in my shimmering dress.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Maybe he’s just running late.” She offered. I forced myself not to cry. Lawrence was supposed to be my date to the big New Year’s Eve party, but no, he wasn’t here. I had worked my ass off all day and I was tired like hell. All I wanted to do was crawl in my bed and close my eyes for the rest of the week, but instead I went ahead, took a shower, shaved my legs, did my make-up, spent an hour on my hair and took my most beautiful dress out of the closet. I felt like running him over with a truck.

“He’s not running late.” I replied bitterly. “He’s not coming.” I repeated more confidently. “He’s not coming because he’s a little wussy who obviously isn’t prepared to fight for me. Who would have ever predicted Lawrence would give up first. Sebastian must feel so great right now.” I muttered angrily.

“The only way Lawrence is not coming to a beautiful girl like you, is because he probably got run over by a bus. Trust me. And Sebastian doesn’t want to hurt you.” She told me. I ignored her last comment.

“What if he got run over by a bus? I would be here being a whiny bitch while he’s in the hospital!” I exclaimed. Mrs Boggs shot me a pointed look.

“What’s wrong with you, Paige. You’re usually not this dramatic. Are you on your period?” She asked me. My jaw dropped, making my mouth fall wide open.

“No!” I shouted, outraged. She kept looking at me dryly until I rolled my eyes and muttered: “Fine, I am.”

“Okay, do you need anything?” She asked. I blushed.

“No, thank you. Can we stop talking about this?” I asked, ashamed. She grinned.

“Sure, but we’re all ladies here. You don’t have to be ashamed.” She told me.

“I’m not.” I spoke before she even finished her sentence. She rolled her eyes.

“Fine. Are you coming?” She asked. She noticed my hesitation and gave me a pointed look.

“I think I’m going to call Lawrence and maybe stay in my room.” I admitted.

“Sweetie, don’t do that to yourself.” She said. I hated the way she looked at me right then. It made me feel so pathetic.

“I’m fine, Anita.” I told her, showing her my bravest face. She still looked a little hesitating. “Don’t tell Serena where I am, okay? Knowing her she’d barge in here to drag me down the stairs.”

“If that’s what you want.” She said, before leaving me alone. Once I was the only one in the room, I quickly grabbed my phone and called Lawrence. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or not when the phone call was answered.

“Hello, this is Marc, Lawrence’ manager.” A way to happy voice exclaimed as a greeting. I frowned. Marc was one of Lawrence’ best friends, and he was obviously joking around with me.

“Hey, it’s Paige. Where’s Lawrence?” I asked. My question was met with ridiculous laughter, and I instantly got a bad feeling.

“Didn’t you get the news, doll? He broke up with you.” Marc said. Apparently I didn’t get the news, and I was not about to let him get away with it like this.

“I want him on the phone. Now.” I barely recognized my own voice, and at the same time it reminded me of the way I used to speak to people on hostile territory. It was that one tone of voice that gave you the option between life and dead, and no one had ever chosen wrongly.