CHAPTER ONE:
“Miss. Price, I find you guilt for the first-degree murder of Mr. Hamilton. You are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison with the possibility of no parole, “I could clearly hear the judge’s condescending voice in my head as the gavel comes into contact with the wooden table.
Twenty-five years? Then killing Mr. Hamilton was definitely out of the question. I sighed in disappointment, raising my gaze for a few seconds to glance at the culprit of my thoughts. He was a short, dorky man with an attitude worse than my step-mother’s back when she was still alive. Or my step-brother’s and his baby mama who are very much alive. Not forgetting the so-called Mr. Hamilton was quite the pervert. I glanced at the other two men in the room and they were all deep in their conversation with Mr. Hamilton regarding the newest project. My gaze followed them covertly as they suddenly rose up, shaking hands while talking about the new Chinese place across the street.
“You should join us Miss. Price. I hear they have a fantastic beer garden on the rooftop,” He spoke, smirking and in my head I was screaming at him to step away from me. I hated his presence so close to me.
“Of course,” I smiled, ignoring the cold chills that ran through my body when he brushed his fingers against the exposed part of my arm. He was shamelessly flirty, especially with me but what was I supposed to do when this was the only decent job I’d gotten since I moved to New York?
“Do wear something…red and I’ll have my driver pick you up in let’s say, two hours,” he dipped down, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “You do look quite ravishing in that blouse though. Maybe you can become the chief acquisition editor really soon,” he winked at me and then walked ahead to join the other two men.
I took a minute to get my breath back and shake off the fear from my body. Mr. Hamilton was disgusting in the ghastliest ways. If I could, I would kill him with my bare hands. But I needed the job and he knew that.
“Must be nice being his new muse,” I stopped dead in my tracks, the familiar sneer coming from Mia, the current chief Acquisition editor. She was the epitome of beauty, brains and well, insecurity. From the first day I got hired, approximately less than five months ago, she had made it quite clear she didn’t like me. Not once had she bothered to hide her utter distaste of me, even in front of my co-workers and the boss himself.
“I’m not his muse,” I made it clear but I knew it was useless. The stares I got everywhere I walked were enough to make me aware of what everybody was saying about me. Well, according to them, I slept with the boss to get this job and was now sleeping my way to the top.
“Right,” she scoffed, “Hamilton is like that. He uses you and spits you out the moment something new, something fresh catches his attention. If you are lucky, you get to keep your job,”
I took a deep breath, suppressing the anger bubbling inside me as I forced a smile on my face to avoid snapping, “You are technically my boss, Mia and I know you and the CEO used to have a thing. Honestly, I don’t expect you to take my word for it but I don’t even like Mr. Hamilton. We’ve never slept together and never has there been some sort of intimate relation between us,”
I saw a look of relief sweep through her gaze before she scoffed,” You think him and I had a thing? Oh, please. Anyway, I forwarded some new submissions to your work email. Check them out, will you?”
“Of course,” I watched her sashay away as I shook my head in pity. I wonder what she saw in him. I mean, she was the epitome of beauty and elegance and well, he was…possibly the most disgusting pig of a man.
I shook my head, walking into my cabin very much aware of the stares from my co-workers. It used to bother me so much at first and maybe it still did, but I needed the money and those judging stares weren’t paying me any. I would just put up with it for a few more months, save enough and quit working for that pig of a man.
I checked the emails Mia had sent, jotted down a reminder on my notepad, made sure everything on my desk was well organized before grabbing my car keys and handbag. I’ve always been a sucker for organization. My car wasn’t anything fancy. Just a second hand 1996 Chevrolet Camaro, which I was still paying for but it was mine. I blasted Beyoncé’s Single ladies as I navigated out of the parking lot and into the traffic, which was a bit light today.
At twenty-five, I should have my life figured out, right? Wrong. In my case, I was at the most disorganized part of my life, putting up with bills, debts, a pervert boss, co-workers who don’t like me and you know what? Never really had one good relationship I could name. First there was Pete when I was eighteen but there were just no sparks. Then came Manuel, a very hot Filipino guy but he was quick to abandon me when the hottest girl in my literature class batted her eyelashes at him. It didn’t hurt though and maybe it was because our attraction was purely physical. Well, the last guy, Eric, got fired from the company when he showed interest in me and well, he did attempt to get in a drunken fight with the CEO about me. Talk about having the worst luck in life.
As I pulled up in the driveway of my apartment in the heart of New York, I certainly didn’t expect to see one of the two people I swore I’d never lay my eyes on again, sitting on the staircase leading to my front door. She was holding on to a crying baby, trying to shush him but it was clearly not working. I remained frozen in my seat, trying not to succumb to the rage building inside me. How dare she show up at my place after all these years?
I took one more minute in the car to calm down my rage before stepping out. She looked up and there was a look between guilt and desperation clinging into her gray eyes. The bags under her eyes coupled with seemingly unkempt nature, should have had me concerned but I was past caring for her.
“Ruby,” she sounded a bit hoarse, probably from crying. I think.
“Get away from me and never show your face in my life,” I said simply, already walking past her, my trembling hands reaching for the keys in my purse.