Forty-One Chloe"Chloe, table nineteen needs a refill!" Boss Liu's voice rang through the kitchen as he stepped in. He was a rather huge Asian man, spanning over six feet with enough muscles to make Bruce Lee jealous. His eyes were forever slanty, given the impression that he was about the pummel the shit out of you. However, as menacing as he looked, he was the biggest softie I had ever meant. "Sure thang Liu," I said in a faux southern accent. He dislike the Southern drawl and because I was...me, I enjoyed teasing him with it. It was so fucking adorable, seeing his face scrunch up every time he heard the accent. "Chloe," he whispered. Well, he meant to whisper. It sounded more like he was shouting but in a lower tone. "I told you. It's Boss Liu. Everybody," he gestured at the cooks and waiters in the large kitchen. "Says Boss Liu," "Ohh, you want me to call you Boss Liu?" I asked and he nodded quite adorably. I tapped my cheek, pretending to think about it, and said, "No," Laug

Forty-threeNathan"Will that be all gentlemen?" I asked, my face hurting from the fake smile pasted on my face. I would be out of that door as soon as they nodded their heads at me. The meeting had taken longer than expected. Heck, what I had expected was something short, simple, and not a waste of time. Instead, two nincompoops had spent an hour arguing baselessly over what model should be used as the face of the agency.Of all the fucking things in the world! Models! It had taken me threatening to boot their ass out of my company for them to quit yammering over how hot their recommendations were and shut the fuck up. "I believe that will all," one of the directors spoke rising to his feet. He looked tired of the shenanigans that had played out before us all. "Great! Have a nice day gentlemen," I greeted. Gentlemen my ass. I was barely out the door when they resumed arguing. Old fucking men without an ounce of self-respect, arguing over how large or small the bosom of a model wa

Forty-FiveChloe"Ohayo!" I sang as I waltzed into the kitchen. It was Monday, and everything was all bright and peachy. I had dropped my baby at school, Addison would be arriving that day and I could already foresee a night filled with a lot of gisting and chugging ice cream. Mahn, I haven't eaten ice cream in a while. I missed it a bit. "Good morning to you too, Chloe. You're in a good mood." Mrs. Mourinho replied, a sweet smile on her face. Her grey hairs were tied in a bun atop her head. She was grilling some chicken in a pan. "Looking spiffy today, Mrs. M," I teased reaching out to grab a small piece of chicken and tossed it in my mouth. Damn it was hot. "No touching the food!" She shouted, slapping my hands away. "Too late!" I cackled wildly, racing to the bathroom to change. A few minutes later, I was out the door, dressed in black pants and a white blouse. I loved our uniform. I always felt so professional, dressed in them and taking orders. Arthur let out a whistle as

Forty-Seven NathanGiving my parents a look that told them I would be back, I walked out of the living room with my brother. We walked until we reached the cane chairs by the poolside. "You have to stay away," He said, with his back turned to me. I frowned. "Stay away? What's that?" Noah sighed and turned to me, a smile on his face. It was a grin, smirk, or some mutilated form of laughter. It was a smile. And that scared the shit out of me. "No!" I yelled, rushing towards him and clutching his suit. "Whatever the hell you are thinking, don't fucking do it." "I have to," He replied, the bizarre smile stuck on his face. "You, mom, and Dad are in danger. That shit is real. Look I've made arrangements okay?" "No, Noah, I don't fucking understand," I said, feeling every bit like a small fucking child being told to sit out of an argument. "Don't do anything stupid," My brother grabbed my hands and wrenched them away from his shirt. "The less you know. The better. That's exactly how

Forty-NineChloeWhen we got home, it was way past ten. Adele had fallen asleep in the restaurant. We had only stayed a few more minutes because Addison didn't want to leave until she had dessert. It seemed something must have happened in the Maldives. She had come home quite sour, moaning and crying in her bed like she was sick or something. I hoped that she wasn't. I couldn't lose Addy, she was all I and Adele had as a family. After tucking Adele in bed, I went back to the living room and saw Addison take out fresh beer bottles from the freezer. She'd drunk a whole bottle of chardonnay at the damn restaurant! And now she wanted to chug down beer?! Was she trying to cook her fucking liver?! "Okay, that's it!" I yelled. She froze, staring innocently at me. "What's it?" I stomped towards her, my face schooled into a severe expression. "What is going on?" Addison looked around her as if there could be anyone else I was referring to. For a woman so fucking smart, she could be dumb