Meant for Me | ✔️

2) I've got this

July, two years ago

A D D I E

The last thing that I wanted to be doing on a Saturday evening, was making a brief appearance at some swank event on Rodeo Drive where there'd be more celebrities than the Met Gala. That might have sounded a bit backward. Don't all women in their early twenties want to be rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous at designer store openings?

Perhaps not all. But the odds are favourable. I was required to be here though. Even if just for a few minutes. I did put the whole thing together after all. It was custom to come and be sure that things were in order. The smell of rich fabrics and wine lingered in the air. Music rattled the clothes hangers on their steel racks, and I winced at stilettos piercing the brand-new wooden floor.

"Addison!"

I'd been hoping to slip out before the client caught me. However, at the sound of her harsh nicotine damaged voice calling me, I turned around and found Klarise Klauden approaching. She glittered with diamonds and stunk of four-hundred-dollar champagne. Still, I let her give me one of her awkward half hugs that made it quite clear, she preferred her personal space too.

"This is perfect," her frosted fingertips wiggled as she waved around the room. "You've made an impression too. There have been whispers circulating. You could make a lot of connections here. People want to hire the Addison and Margo May. This'll do wonders for the business sweetheart."

"It's just Addie," I gave her a polite nod and watched her touch the piercing on her thin nose. "You have our card, Klarise. So, whoever's interested, just pass the information along."

Her brows pinched, like she'd heard a bad joke and she was contemplating how to react. "Yes well, I think that's your job sweetheart. You have all of this potential. Don't leave it to someone else to give you a break."

She wasn't wrong. But she also wasn't desperate to get home, wrap up in a dressing gown and read the latest novel by Colleen Hoover. It didn't matter that it was July in Beverly Hills. I wanted bed. I wanted books.

My shared business, May We? Was well known in California. Margo and I had inherited the business from our parents and re branded it, and ourselves, in order to make it our own. Our workload had tripled since we took it over. Margo and I weren't lacking in clients but the more that we had, the better and Margo would be furious if I didn't at least attempt to expand our client base. She was the one who came to most of the events. I preferred the office work. But I granted her the night off so that she could go on a date. It better have been worth it.

I turned on the best fake it until you make it smile and proceeded to take a few laps around the store. In the dark, the walls were glowing from neon lights that were fixed behind the boards. It was cute and enchanting. Posters of models in the brand items were hung and mannequins were dressed in their new outfits.

And then, as I was about to make a graceful exit, I saw him. That monster. That insufferable prick. That lowlife, worthless shrimp dick.

Not that I would know for sure if he was a shrimp dick. He was my sister's ex-husband after all. But she'd used the phrase more than once.

I considered slipping out, slow and without a scene. But somehow, I found myself standing in front of him with a glass of champagne and a brutal bitch glare in place. Ignoring the couple that he was having a conversation with, I cleared my throat and smiled at him. The smile was laced with disgust and sarcasm. Which I think he received when he finally looked at me.

"Addie," his brows shot up in a sign of surprise, but nerves weren't slow to seep in and I watched that familiar red rash crawl across his throat. He might have been a heartless bastard, but he didn't have an ounce of confidence either. Not the sort that was needed to survive in this world. It was no wonder he lived behind a desk.