Tainted Gold

Chapter 1: Indigo Ojima

My last name. It wasn't direct: it had been handed down. I was 100% American.

But it did lead to misunderstandings sometimes. The name itself meant "small island".

I liked it for that reason. Because, in actuality, I really was a small island.

My family was wealthy, a trait I had refused to accept myself. That being said, I didn't have many real friends.

Only one. Madelyn Vonsteele. The rest were so fake, it made me gag.

Maddie and I had been friends since 2nd grade. Now, in the present day, we shared a flat.

My mother always loved her. But her lack of money threw most of the other people in my life off.

I didn't want to live that life of facades and expensive objects.

I wanted to have a normal life, and unlike the rest of my family, I wanted to earn my share in the world.

They didn't like my decision.

My aunt, my closest relative since the death of my mother at age 9, was bitter about me wanting to get a job and go to an art institute here in San Francisco instead of Harvard or Princeton.

But rarely did I let my Aunt Kori's opinion affect my decisions. I graduated almost a month ago.

She didn't show, and I was actually pretty glad. Maddie's family had.

They were more of a family than mine ever was.

It was one of the happiest days of my life.

My fingers started to ache as I wrote. Did they really expect to know this much about me?

I mean, most of it wasn't even relevant to the job. The words in bold commanded me to write an essay on my life so far.

All this to be the secretary at a very popular, very large night club... I started thinking that maybe I should just bail.

But I needed the work, and my aunt had been breathing down my neck, waiting to see a weak spot in my armor.

I hadn't even told Maddie about the rising bills, god forbid Kori. If my aunt found out, she'd probably all but shove the money down my throat.

And I refused to hear her I told you so's, or accept her so-called gifts. For me, it would be like downing a bottle of drainer fluid.

Actually, no.

I'd rather have the drainer fluid.

After I'd finished, I let my hand rest for a minute before walking to the bar, where the bartender's lazy gaze landed on me.

He was a man in his 40's, with stubble and long brown hair. Not bad looking. But he had bags under his dark eyes from working the night shift, well, every night.

I hoped I wouldn't develop them too. "Who do I give this to?"

He looked me over slowly before replying, and I squirm a little, uncomfortable from the unwanted attention.

"Well, the boss, of course," he replied. Yeah, no shit. He had a Scottish accent, an uncommon thing to hear in San Fran.

"And who is the boss, exactly?" I made sure to let the annoyance seep into my tone.

"Mr. Gold."

I scoffed. He couldn't be serious. "That's his real name? Mr. Gold? What is this, a romance novel?"

He smirked at me, and said in a low tone, "That, ma'm, is completely up to you."

There was something about the way he said it that made me want to jump out of my skin. He almost sounded...serious.

"Take the elevator to the 10th floor. You'll find his office there. But don't go any higher."

This peaked my curiosity. "Why not?" I raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Just. Don't." His eyes darkened a shade, sending a chill through me. I should probably do as he says.

I head to the elevator that's on the left side of the bar. Its one of those old fashioned elevators, with the metal gate. But the inside was more modern, the buttons in particular.

My eyes roamed until I found the floor level 10, pressing it with a slight hesitation.

9 floors later...

I found myself in a small hallway, with a single door ahead. The walls were a rich velvet red, and the floor was polished black marble.

It looked nice.

I gathered up my confidence. Mr. Gold... I felt like I'd heard that name somewhere before. But right now wasn't the time to get distracted.

I knocked on the door painted bone white. I waited in silence for a few seconds. Then a few more.

But no one came to the door. I was about to knock again, when I heard the sound of the elevator door opening.

Who the hell-

I turned my head, and saw a guy about my age, dressed in a fancy grey suit. And holy fuck, he was hot.

His hair was messy and blond, his face clean and shaven. He was about 6 feet tall, not that much taller than me when I had my heels on.

And I could already tell he was in shape.

His eyes landed on me and started blazing a nice shade of metallic blue. I took in a sharp breath through my teeth and wiggled in my tight leather jeans. "Hi."

"Hello," he said in a mannered voice thick with pride. Ugh. I could already tell. Richie. I should've known. The watch on his wrist alone probably cost the price of an average car.

"I-..My name is Indigo Ojima. I'm here to give you my application for the job."

"Ah. Very nice to meet you," he said. I raised my arm to shake hands, but he instead took it delicately in his.

It took me by surprise when he planted a soft kiss on the back of my hand. I inhaled through my nose and snatched my hand away abruptly, but managed to recover and put on a smile.

"I'm Oliver Gold." I guessed that. I handed him the application with unintentional haste. "Is that it?" I wanted to leave. Now.

"Yes.. Like I said, it was a pleasure to meet you. Indigo."

He nodded once, and I walked past him. I was being rude, but I didn't care.

I practically pounded on the elevator button, and lunged myself inside. I slammed my finger on the button that glowed sweet relief.

I remember now who Oliver Gold was. The famous son of Henry and Florna Gold, millionaires and owners of various companies around the US.

Oliver was their prodigal young son.

I'd just made a big mistake.