The Rules of the Red - 2014 Watty Award Winner |✓|

Chapter One - Part One

                                                   

Darlings, I hope you understand.

This was never meant to be a love story.

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CHAPTER ONE

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At a tragically young age, I learned that nothing about life was ever designed to be permanent. Environments, feelings, people – they could abandon you in an instant, without hesitation. But I had gotten used to that. In fact, I had even reached a stage where it no longer frightened me, like it did others. No. Instead, I welcomed it every time, because with that change, I knew there would also come fresh possibilities and endless second chances to go along with it. And anyway, it was the only thing that kept me going at times, if I were to be honest.

But nevertheless, as the taxi man pulled up in front of the house, and I looked upon it for the first time, I actually started to feel uneasy about this new adjustment. Because in seeing my new home, I also realized that I had finally encountered something that intimidated me. Not to mention, this was completely different from every other change that I had ever made in my life.

This, I was not prepared for.

 “Can you take me to La Maison, please?” I asked the driver, from my position in the back seat. He was a short, portly man who smelled of cigarettes and cold salami, and though he didn’t answer, he put the car back in gear and made a U-turn in the cul-de-sac.

For a while, we drove along in silence throughout the town’s winding streets, and I could see the driver sneaking quick glances at me every so often from the rearview mirror. But I ignored this, and chose instead to focus my thoughts on what had occurred over the past few months.

For one, I was no longer a foster kid. I was eighteen now, legally an adult, and on my own. And while thoughts of college and busting my ass working two jobs just to survive on Ramen and Hot Cheetos looked good on paper, somehow, it just wasn’t enough. But then again, neither was a life of conning johns out of their wallets either. So for a while I was… lost – drifting along in a sea of my own despair as the future loomed forbiddingly on the horizon.

But then, one day, a strange letter arrived in the mail, with claims that were at the very least, absurd. But the author of the letter, a Mr. Edward James Talbot, wrote in a convincing enough manner that I had no choice but be intrigued. He explained that I was now the sole owner of property in a town called Harbor Village, and that I was also the recipient of an inheritance worth a sum that was deliriously unbelievable (it was true, the zeroes had literally dripped from the page). And that was really all the extra convincing that I had needed.

As the taxi rolled onward, I also wondered what kind of disruptions or revelations I could bring. And maybe it was wrong to feel that sense of destructive entitlement that I did, but in my defense, we all know that those with the most power usually suffer from some degree of malevolence anyway.

But there wasn’t much time for considering these thoughts. The driver reached our destination earlier than I anticipated, pulling up directly before the building’s tall double doors. “La Maison de Champagne” read its title in fancy script across the front. It doubled as the most expensive restaurant and luxurious hotel within a hundred mile radius, and had the look to match.