Keep My Heart Alive

Chapter Two

PRESENT

There's something particularly invigorating about walking through New York City in a sleek, gold, pair of Prada pumps. Maybe it's that with every step taken you can practically feel the empowerment radiating from the grimy New York sidewalk and into the soles of very expensive shoes and right up to your brain. Perhaps it is simply the effect that a good pair of shoes can have on girl.

This particular pair of shoes were bought well over ten years ago during a winter sale when brands are getting rid of stuff nobody wants anymore and attempt to cater towards normal people that can only afford couture when there's a major piece drop. Still, they were Prada and every bit of gorgeous that they had been ten years ago when I bought them specifically for my senior prom.

Living in the big city took on a whole new meaning when you were wearing the right outfit.

With my Prada heels, Gorgon dress— Gorgon being the next big designer from Iceland, and my Balmain coat I was practically invincible. This was who I was meant to be. An indestructible, beautiful, well-dressed, woman that drank rosé and weighed no more than 120 pounds.

I worked as an economist for The Informant, a constantly updated website and app that provided news and information of the stock market, large businesses; the economy. Basically, I got paid to plug numbers into a computer. There were glitches but not very often and for that I thank programmers.

Walking into the office that was located on the very un-interesting fourth floor of a twenty seven floor high rise, I said hello to my colleagues. Ted the office pervert hit on me as usual, Leticia the office bitch gave me one of her looks same as she did everyday, and Gary the very snooty office gay told me about how much he adored my coat.

Sighing I took my seat at my desk that was adorned with Halloween decorations because it was October and I couldn't help myself.

"Did you finish the numbers?" asked Mr. Hearst

"Just about, you know I'd never leave you hanging Jeremy." I winked, calling him by his  first name.

"Of course not, it's just you know Windsor is coming in today and he's been riding me like never before."

Windsor was our primary investor and he absolutely felt the need to involve himself into every detail of our work. I understood he wanted to see his investment shine through but he expected us to give him every detail as if he could even comprehend what he was being told. He was rich as hell but that didn't make him a genius. He was old money, born into it and never worked a proper day in his life. All he needed to know was that we were making him money and we really were. Since the economies constant fluctuation people wanted, no needed, to know what could potentially happen in a world run by money.

"Well, don't worry. You could tell him the opposite of what's going on and he'd still nod his head and act as if he understood."

"Although true, I'd prefer not to. Lately he's been bringing his financial advisor round and I'd hate to get caught between a lie and a hard place. Also she's gorgeous."

Jeremy or Mr. Hearst was a newly divorced thirty-eight year old bachelor that lacked flirtation skills. His slightly spiked blonde hair, fabulous dimples, and Helmut Lang wardrobe made him a catch. However, once he attempted a conversation with any woman he was interested in, it was as if he was talking to an three hundred pound wrestler about to pummel him into the ground.

"Oh, I see. Well, just smile and present the way you always do. After, ask her out for coffee at that place downstairs. She'll love it and remember if you get too nervous skip on the caffeine and go for an herbal tea."

"Okay, I'll try but no promises." He gulped straightening his tie and walking away. He really was the sweetest. Still, definitely not my type. Blondes never were, no offense.

With a sigh I sent Hearst his long awaited numbers, and the rest of the day went on without a glitch. Me typing in numbers, decimals, fractions, whatever. Work was uneventful and boring to say the least. Despite the repercussions that could happen if I were to screw up, I was always stress free and didn't pay much attention to work or what happened there. I was never one to pay attention. I rarely took work home because I enjoyed staying home and doing nothing. I thrived of off of sitting at home alone in sweatpants while some movie I had probably seen a dozen times played.

I did, however, enjoy my other job that was nights only, every week, Thursday to Saturday. The immediate assumption that comes with working weekends and at night is that that I'm probably a stripper or something. That assumption would be correct, I worked at Femme Privileges. Which was one of the various high end, as well as, high class stripper/ call girl services in the city. I was just a dancer and it was a good bit of fun, it made my would be very boring life somewhat interesting.

I've always considered myself to be the epitome of a woman, a goddess I suppose. I had these once seemingly impossible goals in my mind and somehow I had managed to achieve them. I'd made myself new. Once I became who I wanted to be I changed my name. Charlize Lauder, although a very large personality with a knack for making people laugh wasn't who I was now. Charlize Lauder was an elegant name for a once very inelegant girl and there was nothing I could do to earn that name. Now, I was Nancy Lourdes. Nancy was kind, yet self-centered. Nancy was perfection.

Fancy Nancy.