Zoe
"Mommy," Bella screeched. My bedroom door flew open. Her tiny form moved so fast it was hard to focus between the bouncing and the sleep deprivation. Thank God it was Saturday. I'd made it through my first week at work by the skin of my teeth. I was fifteen minutes late on Thursday. To say Greyson was unimpressed would be the understatement of the century. I was dragged to his office where he spent 30 minutes berating me and sneering at me before giving me a formal warning for timekeeping. It took every ounce of strength I had not to tell him he could stick his job where the sun didn't shine.
"I wanna pancakes," Bella chanted, jumping to and fro over me. the bed beneath her creaked and groaned. "Wanna pancakes. Can we have pancakes for breakfast? Isaac make pancakes?"
"Urgh," I groaned turning to face the alarm clock. Its green light read 9 am. the sun blazed through the flimsy curtains.
"Mommy," Bella insisted, "can Isa
Greyson 9 am Monday morning came and went with no sign of Zoe. I paced the floor in front of Mabel's desk glancing at my watch and back at the unmoving private elevator. I should have never given Zoe a chance. I should have known this would happen. Zoe was a mess, incapable of organising a party in a brewery. She blamed everything on her kids, on being a single parent. It was all bullshit. My mom was a single parent. She held down a job and studied while raising Stella and me and we were never late for school. We were always pushed to do our best. Zoe appeared to be raising a future felon, a mild-mannered mute and a kid who thinks the world owes him a living and shoes. My mother would never allow anything like that to happen. "She'll be here, Sir," Mabel said. "This job is important to her." "Yeah, it looks like it," I scoffed. The Zoe I remembered from school was never late but then the Zoe I remembered from school would never have had three kids before the age of thirty with n
ZoeI set up three alarms on my phone, all within fifteen minutes of each other. The casserole was still bubbling away in the oven. I tried to block out the low-level bickering between Bella and Harry and carried on making sandwiches for sack lunches for tomorrow. I needed to be organized. I needed to be at work on time. My job and my kids' futures depended on it."It's my turn for the TV, Harry," Bella whined."My cartoon is not finished yet," Harry argued."Yes, it did. You put a different one on.""I didn't like the first one.""Harry, give Bella the TV remote," I called throwing their clothes for tomorrow into the washing machine."No fair," Hary protested. "She got to watch her show.""Give me," Bella screeched, that ear-piercing, migraine-inducing screech that set my teeth on edge. "Give me. Give me. Give me."The walls vibrated as Mrs Carlton from next door hammered on them."
Zoe's POV "I'm hungry," Bella moaned as I slipped my key into the front door lock. "Me too, I'm starving," Harry joined in. Isaac said nothing. He hadn't uttered a word the whole way home. I left all three kids on the sofa in front of the TV, leaving Isaac in charge of the TV remote and made my way to the kitchen. Smoke still lingered in the air. The blackened casserole sat on top of the stove. I grabbed a knife from the sink and poked at the charred remains. It was black the whole way through, even if the kids wouldn't accuse me of trying to poison them if I served it, it was utterly inedible. Ash the whole way through. I sighed throwing the knife back into the sink and headed to the fridge. Four lonely eggs sat on the middle shelf next to a carton of expired yoghurt and half a gallon of milk. An inch of hardened cheddar cheese nestled on the shelf in the door. My stomach rumbled as I tossed the eggs and some grated cheese and milk into a pan, already guessing Bella's reaction.
Greyson's POVI leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers rhythmically against my desk, my eyes fixed on my computer monitor. I'd read the same line of code seven times. Zoe's cruel words rang through my head on a loop crushing my concentration.That Greyson. I scoffed to myself. I am that Greyson. Zoe is the one who had changed. Not me. Zoe was nothing like the woman I had in my head who I'd planned my life with and she was nothing like the smart, feisty, fiery girl who I remembered from school.And how would she even know what I was like in school? She barely spoke to me. A smile and eye contact was the most I could look forward to. I could count on one hand the number of times she spoke to me.I still remembered the very first words she uttered to me. We were eight years old. She was playing tag with a girl called Samantha, a chubby girl with a face full of freckles and large brown eyes. She ducked backwards out of Samantha's reach and tumbled right into me knocking my glasses o
ZoeSunlight warmed my face, washing the inside of my eyelids with a soft pink glow. Sleeplessness befuddled my mind. Pins and needles prickled my arms. Isaac groaned, rolling off my numb limb. I shifted him off me, twisting towards the clock.Fuck. The stupid clock blasted its time at my face in full force green LCD. I bolted upright, grabbing Isaac."Isaac, we're late. Wake-up."Isaac groaned, turning to his side, throwing his arms over his head, muffling my desperate pleas. Soft snores drifted from his mouth."Harry, Bella" I pounced from the bed, crashing into the nightstand. A half-empty glass of stale water smashed to the floor, hitting a crusty plate and exploding into millions of shards over the dusty carpet. "Harry, Bella, UP. NOW. We're late." I turned my attention back to Isaac, prising the worn, discoloured sheets from his tiny fingers."Isaac, if you're late again we go back on an improvement plan,
ZoeMug of steaming coffee in hand, I wound my way back to Isaac’s laptop. With an empty purse and a repair bill for a Jaguar I-Pace winging its way to me, I can’t afford coffee, but I can’t afford to not job hunt, nor will my finances stretch to reinstating my home internet service. On the slim chance I avoid jail time, I owe Isaac a class trip, Bella a school dress and I need new shoes. I googled Greyson’s fancy car. The eyewatering starting price stands at eighty thousand dollars. My house isn’t worth eighty thousand dollars. I can only imagine the horrific repair bill. The custom made watch he sported wasn’t much cheaper.The cracked screen blinked to life, I sipped my coffee, waiting an age for the job site to load and typed unskilled, no experience into the search bar. I almost spat my coffee at the screen at the first offering.PA to a busy CEO, attractive starting salary, flexible working hours, extensive
Greyson“Oh, yes, Sir, I’m flexible. I take yoga classes. It really helps with my flexibility.” She ran an unnervingly long red talon up her smooth, orange leg, thrusting her cosmetically enhanced tits out and continued waffling about yoga. It’s not what I had in mind when I asked if she was flexible after explaining the position involved occasional travel. Ever since I agreed to that damn interview for a vacuous gossip rag, money grabbing harlots like the one toying with her scrawny legs in my office plagued my life. I should have guessed they'd infiltrate my professional life when Mabel announced her intention to retire. And I should've known better than to mention my deep craving for a relationship and willingness to settle down and start a family to a rag called Sexy Bachelors of LA. It didn't help that the photographer dressed me in tight pants and an unbuttoned shirt and arranged my poses in a way which made it supe
ZoeHoly shit is the man different to the boy. The Greyson Elliot I remember was scrawny and shy. He didn't speak, he muttered. We all thought he was dumb, he never spoke, never answered questions in class and despite his nickname, he was always clean. The clothes he wore were second hand and a bit tattered, but they were always clean. The man? Well, the man is an asshole. A fuckable asshole but an asshole none the less.I stepped out on the sidewalk and ran my hands down my front as if checking I was really stood outside Total Software Solutions head office after the most bizarre interview of my life.Be resourceful, Zoe, we need this job, I told myself. I scanned the street, desperately searching for an answer. A gaggle of teenage girls gathered outside a small, boujee beauty store. A smile crept over my face as I spotted my chance.I rushed across the road and stooped as I enveloped myself between the girls. Predictably,