Miss Independent

Chapter Fourteen: Fight

Chapter Fourteen: Fight

I started small. I saved up money and bought a really good Mac and MacBook, I got a very good laser printer, and got a few work friends and Ryan to be my workers, paying them fifty bucks a week. It wasn't much, but it was what I could afford. I promised them though, if it worked, I was going to bring them to the top with me.
Ryan was the one taking the pictures of people on the street. My magazine made it on the local news, which wasn't much, but it was still pretty cool. My work friend Amelia got a bachelor's degree in English so she was the one editing, and I was writing. They pitched in and helped with the subscriptions and the mailing and binding, and I just kept saving up money. My apartment was covered in boxes and papers and so many more things, but together, the three of us made a good team. I've been wracking in money faster than a Vegas casino, and after a few more months of saving every penny, I bought a small commercial office where we moved the business too. I hired a writer and an accountant to help me with the financial aspect of it all.
Within two months, we ran out of space in the tiny office and I was begged by everyone to get a bigger building, so I bought a warehouse on Long Island.
Now I have rooms for the magazines to sit in and people to keep them organized, a few writers, a few editors, a couple accountants, a few photographers, and I got a lawyer to legally bind the magazine to me, so the only way somebody can change anything about it, is if they talk to me and me only.
The magazine is being sold to people around the state and put in a couple of small bookstores in the cities, along with some small local grocery stores outside of the city.
I made a website and some advertisements that I've sold to news stations and newspapers and I'm doing my absolute best to promote it.
We have over ten thousand subscribers that pay fourteen dollars and ninety nine cents a month, and they get. New addition every Monday.
The problem, however, is the more I expand, the more people I need to hire, which is the more space I run out of.
I'm swimming in my business so much that I had to quit my waitressing job, but my magazine pays my bills easily.
I have enough money in my bank to buy small a house and pay it off in the same day.
Right now I have boxes of job applications to go through, along with a lot of articles that people are writing to be put in the magazine.
Although the pay is incredible, I'm also getting frequent work phone calls on my personal phone, which means I need to go out and get a work phone. My office is in the main area with everyone else because the warehouse just isn't big enough. Everyone is starting to complain again because we're running out of space, but the next step in this area is a huge building in the city, and nobody understands how expensive those are.
My phone starts ringing and, stressed as hell, I pick it up and press answer.
"Hello?"
"I'm at your apartment. Where are you?"
I freeze. "Liam?"
"Yeah."
I haven't spoken to any of my relatives since the New Year because they think I'm a drug addict. My Dad shut off my phone and it took me a long time to be able to afford my own plan.
It's late September. What is my brother doing in New York City?
"Why are you at my apartment?"
"Because I found out what you do every day and I got in a huge fight with Mom and Dad because they don't believe me. So instead, I decided to show them. You have a work space, right?"
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Liam, I really don't have time for this right now." I say, looking at my employees running around like a chicken with their head cut off trying to get the weekly subscription in the mail on time.
There a lot of work that needs to be done to get next weeks subscription done.
"Look Kate, I know you're busy..." he pauses. "And I know you have been through a lot, but you have time for family, right?"
No. I genuinely don't, and that's okay with me.
I don't need family, I don't need marriage, I don't need anything.
I'm happy with my life. I'm making a lot of money and it's all because of me.
I'm building myself from the ground up, and I don't think that should be a problem.
"I really don't." I say finally. "Just go to Grandma's and I'll come over later, alright?"
"But Kate-"
"Liam, I'm sorry, alright? I shut down for the night at eight, and I'll go to Grandma's then."
"Alright. I understand." He sighs. "Kate?"
"Yes?" I ask.
"I'm proud of you."

_____

I was dreading getting off work, but eventually, the time did come and I was forced to leave by Ryan, who told me I needed to grow a pair and handle it.
So now I'm sitting in the driveway of my grandparents house, irritated to see most of my relatives vehicle's here too.
What the fuck is this? An intervention?
An intervention for what exactly?
I remind myself I'm a strong independent woman and if they cut me off, that's fine. It's not like I need them.
I don't need anybody. All I need is me and my magazine to be set for life.
So I unbuckle my seatbelt, looking over my outfit.
I'm wearing a red skintight pencil skirt, a white button down shirt, and black high heels. My hair is pulled back in the front and the part that was pulled back got braided. I have minimal mascara on and a lipstick one shader darker than my natural lip color.
I don't have bags under my eyes. I look healthy.
Taking a deep breath, I walk up to the door, knock twice, and then let myself in the house.
The entire family is here, seeing how they all live within an hour from my grandparents. It's only my parents and siblings that don't.
I can see all of them sizing me up, because let's face it.
Usually I would be in jeans and a t-shirt.
"Why am I here?" I get straight to the point.
"I want to know what you're doing." My Dad says calmly. "Why did you have all those random numbers texting you? Why aren't you reaching out to us? We're your family."
And maybe it's pent up anger, or maybe they really do deserve it, but I lose it.
"I had all those random numbers texting me because I'm twenty three years old, I have my own business, and I have people that I need to talk to to run my business. Oh, I'm twenty three by the way, which you probably don't know because not a single person except for my two siblings, contacted me on my birthday. I didn't reach out because you guys are trying to force me to come back to Utah. And for what? I fucking hate it there! I hate that stupid state, I hate everything about it! So I didn't move out by New Years. Who cares? Ryan and his family didn't care that I had to stay a little longer. I had a stable job waitressing and you guys-nothing is ever good enough for you! I know I haven't been the most perfect daughter, but I'm trying to right my wrongs, which you would know if you picked up the phone once in a while."
I spot last week's edition of my magazine on my grandparents coffee table and march over to it, picking it up. "Do you see this? This is my magazine! I published it, I run the company that writes, edits, prints, ships it! I went from making two thousand dollars a month to twenty five thousand dollars a week, and it's not because I'm a failure, it's not because I'm selling drugs, it's because I got my shit together, and all you guys are doing is assuming the worst!"
I throw the magazine on the coffee table with force and go storming out of the house.
I want absolutely no ties to my family.
I hear them following me out the door and I start grabbing things out of the car they bought me when I was a teenager, calling an uber as I do so.
"We didn't call you on your birthday because we didn't have your number." Dad says calmly when I hang up the phone.
"That's not a valid excuse. Claire and Liam had it, and I know you knew that."
"Don't leave Katherine, let's talk." My Mom says gently.
I love my Mom. I always have, and I know this probably wasn't her doing.
"I don't want to talk." I say. "I don't need family. I don't need friends. I'm happy, alright? So leave me alone!"
"Katherine, when you get older you're going to realize there's more to life than work." Mom says. "And when you do, give me a call."
My uber pulls up and opens the trunk. I start putting my things in there, shaking my head.
"My business may be just New York right now, but one day you guys are going to see my magazine in the fucking grocery store and I'm going to be rolling in money, and you guys are going to realize how badly you jump to conclusions. Just think, had you actually stopped to consider that I wasn't still a failure, we could still be a family."
With that, I shut the trunk and get in the back door of the Uber, politely telling the driver to leave.
He drives down the street and I feel so angry, so pissed off the entire way back to my apartment.
I lug all of it up the stairs, cussing about this stupid apartment and how small it is, and how now I have to go get a new fucking car, and I get inside and I'm just so mad, that the only thing I can do is what I did when I was in rehab.
Work out.

_____

Do you think Katherine was right in that situation? I feel like I would have done the same thing, but I understand why her family was suspicious.
They should have at least asked her about it before jumping to conclusions though
~Sam