by Alexa Riley
She’s acting as though whatever it is she wants me to do, I'm not going to say yes. When it comes to my older sister there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. She’s more than a sister to me; more often than not she slips into the mother role. We’re only seven years apart but for as long as I can remember she was the one who took care of me. She graduated top of her class in college while working all the way through. She made sure the bills were always paid so the power wouldn't get turned off on us because we all knew Mom wasn't going to do it. Our mom wasn't there most of the time anyway and it was always Myra and me. She’s the one person I can always count on and if there’s ever anything I can do for her, I will. Without question.
On my eighteenth birthday we were out of my mom's apartment the second I opened my eyes. That morning Myra pulled me from my bed and packed our bags. She already had us a place and we were leaving the past behind. That was over two years ago and it’s been just the two of us since.
“I need a favor.” She steps out of her heels as she says it and lets out a soft sigh.
“I’ll do it.” I put my knitting needles down to give her my full attention.
I’m almost done with the mittens, and unlike my sister, I'm not a busy body. She constantly needs to be moving and doing something while I could sit on the sofa all day and knit. At the moment it’s because I have four applications in for jobs and I’m waiting to hear back from one of them. There isn't anything else for me to do, so why not pass the time crafting winter accessories?
Her shoulders drop and her lips purse. “Don’t agree to things before you know what they are,” she scolds. I do have a bad habit of agreeing to do just about anything. If someone asks me to do something, I can’t help myself. I’m always eager to help my sister, as long as it isn’t against the law.
“If it’s you asking, I know it’s fine.” She gives me a smile and I can tell she’s tired. “Sit.”
I move my knitting stuff and pat the sofa next to me. Our very nice sofa at that. When Myra graduated from college she got offered a job at Cox Investment. She went in to interview to be a secretary but somehow she ended up getting the job of executive assistant to the CEO, Mr. Cox. I’ve never met the man but he keeps my sister busy. I swear the man never wants her to come home. He’s always trying to keep her at the office, and then other times I think he’s trying to get her to quit. I swear I don’t know if he likes her or hates her. Men. This is why I stay away from them. It probably doesn't help I saw way too much of my mom’s dating life growing up and I’ve decided dating isn't for me. What is for me is knitting.
Myra sits down next to me, letting out a long sigh. “He’s asked me to do the impossible.” She drops back onto the sofa.
“I don’t believe there is a thing you can’t do.” I raise an eyebrow at my sister. The woman is unstoppable. I wish I had half her drive. She’s always known what she wants and goes for it. I’m a drifter who sort of lets things happen. My job applications range from vet tech to working in a library. I have no idea what I want to do in life, I just know it’s not working in a restaurant. The poor owner of 68 Diner tried me as hostess, server, busser, dishwasher, and even doing some prep cooking. I failed at them all because high-stress situations and I do not mix well. I explode under pressure and make things ten times worse. When too many things are on my plate I fold like a cheap chair.
“The party.” She closes her eyes for a second. “Mr. Cox picked a venue that I can’t get. I’ve tried a dozen times to talk to the owner of the estate but he won’t take my calls and I’ve been stonewalled.”
Now I know the problem. My sister has a little bit of the same problem I do with saying no, but hers is only with her boss. If Mr. Cox asks her to do something she always comes through. Always. She doesn't want to go back to him and tell him she can't get something he asked for.
“Why won’t they talk to you?” I’m sure Mr. Cox would spend whatever amount of money he needs to in order to lock down the venue he wants. My sister throws a handful of parties a year for his company and they’re never small. The events are extravagant and I could tell money wasn't a thought when they were pulled together, but if you’re Mr. Cox I guess money is never a thought.
“The owner apparently doesn't like people.” Myra shakes her head. I want to laugh because Myra doesn't like people either but she pretends to because it comes with her job. I love people. I might not want a man but I always enjoy company.
“He doesn't like money either?” I tease. I don’t want to know what she’s offered already. I still cringe sometimes at how nice our place is. It’s so different from how we grew up. With Myra’s fancy job came a fancy condo and a fat paycheck each week. At least I’m guessing it’s big because we no longer struggle like we once did.
“He’s got his own.” She rolls her eyes.
“You want me to talk to him?” She’s actually had me do this for her a few times when she can’t get someone to bend to whatever it is she needs to be done. That’s when she sends me in.
“Maybe.” She gives me a pleading look.
Myra is convinced I have a way about getting things I want. She said it’s why I didn't get canned from the diner sooner. People have a hard time telling me no. Actually I don’t think I got fired from the diner. I took pity on the owner and stopped showing up to do everyone a favor. Myra often jokes it’s my dimples, that when I flash a smile people melt. I think I’m just good at talking to people and it comes easily to me.
“Give me the address.” I pick up my phone off the coffee table as she goes for hers to text me.
She nods when my phone pings and says, “Look at this place.” She shows me a picture. She flips through a bunch of them and my eyes widen.
“Wow.” I stare at the breathtaking stone castle in wonder. It’s beautiful but a little bit creepy with some of the overgrown ivy that goes up the sides. I could see the appeal of having a party there. The castle has a history to it and I’m dying to know what it looks like inside.
“I guess the owner is a recluse and doesn't like people, from what I’ve found out.” Oh, I’m sure Myra has done all the digging.
“How do you think I’m going to get past those gates?” I ask.
Sure I can talk to the guy, but the bigger problem looks like getting to him. A giant stone wall protects the home and no one is getting in without being let in.
“Flash those dimples to the guard at the gate.”
“Okay.” I shrug. I’ll give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?
* * *
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