Hope for Her (Hope #1)

by Sydney Aaliyah Michelle

  Dad turned to me. "Son, you should have bought this lovely thing by sooner, she sure brightens up the place."

  My dad’s eyes took one more pass over Carrington and then turned and placed his arm around my shoulder and left Carrington to follow as we walked further into the party.

  Her head tilted down, she wouldn't meet my gaze, and her eyes darted around taking in the party's atmosphere.

  She seemed like a scared kitten, but I had no time to comfort her, my father wanted me by his side.

  I recognized everyone at the party, but my father introduced me anyway.

  "Hi Carter, you remember my son?" he asked and everyone nodded and shook hands, clamoring for my father's attention.

  I wanted to stop my father, grab Carrington's hand, and show her off, but my father's firm grasp on my shoulder clued me in. My place was with him and her place was to blend into the background. That was what she did. It was almost like she knew her role, too.

  He slighted her, and she noticed it, but brushed it off. She handled it like she expected it. I swore to myself that I would make it up to her when we returned to my room. My father might treat her like garbage, but she had to know she meant the world to me.

  I lost track of Carrington when my dad's new fiancée made her entrance. The media covering the party needed a family photo. We posed for photos—playing the happy, solid, and supportive family.

  I found myself enjoying it. I enjoyed the way my father acknowledged me and asked me questions. He had never treated me like this. Even if it was only for the cameras, I’d take it—happy to be on my father's good side for once.

  Carrington spoke to my sister. She smiled and wandered around the room, shaking hands and waving. I heard her laugh, her fake laugh, and I stopped worrying and enjoyed the rest of the night by my father's side, laughing and joking as he bragged about his latest adventures.

  With the party in full swing, my dad pulled me aside. "Son, let's go have a chat."

  I followed him into his study, and the proud father act came to an abrupt end as he closed the door behind me.

  In his office, he poured two drinks and handed me one. I shook my head at the drink and turned around and sat on the edge of his desk.

  "Oh, that's right. You don't drink anymore," Dad said. His sarcasm punched me in the gut. My father thought my addiction was a sign of weakness. I wondered what he considered his addictions.

  "What is it Dad?"

  "I wanted to spend a minute alone with you to see where your head is. See how you're doing."

  "I'm fine. Don't I look fine?"

  "Yeah, you look fine. You look healthy and wide-eyed. Ready to change the world."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Your little girlfriend there."

  "What about her?"

  "I don't know. She doesn't seem to be the kind of girl you normally go for." Dad threw back his drink and picked up the one he poured for me, and downed that one too. "I mean, sure she's beautiful. She fucking hot. But if you brought her here to get to me, well, it worked. You have my attention."

  "I didn't bring her here to do anything to you. She's my girlfriend."

  "Come on Josh. You can't be serious." He chuckled. "Sure, have some fun. Date her, fuck her, do what you want to her, but you don't introduce her at a family event."

  "This is ridiculous." I jumped off the desk.

  "Don't walk away from me, son."

  "I don't have to listen to this."

  "Yes you do.” His booming voice stopped me in my tracks, but when I turned, his face and his demeanor remained calm and in control. “I understand you're mad at me and maybe you have a right to be, but bringing your black girlfriend to my engagement party is not the way to get back at me."

  I hated the way he said black girlfriend, like Carrington was a lab animal.

  "What the fuck dad? It’s 2013 not 1860." I walked up to my father. "You know they even gave black people the right to vote."

  "You can't be this naive," Dad said as he walked back behind his desk and sat down hard into his chair. He positioned himself in his most authoritative posture in order to make a point. Position and perception meant everything to my father—his favorite mantra.

  "Son, have your fun, but I don't want you to bring her around this house ever again."

  "Fine."

  "Son, do you understand me." He leaned forward in his chair.

  "Yes, sir."

  "I'm doing this for your own good. You show her all of this, and when you're ready to get rid of her, she gets clingy thinking she has a chance to have this for herself. All she needs to do is capture some Griffin sperm, and she's set for life. Be careful son, women these days . . ."

  I stood listening to my father, but I didn't hear a word he said. I was concentrating on preventing my brain from exploding. My urge to use again was growing, if only to quiet the pounding in my head.

  My dad's gold digger rants were as famous as his son this is your legacy speech. His opinion on the color of my girlfriend's skin didn't surprise me either. What shocked the hell out of me was how little progress I made moving away from his influences.

  The more he talked, the further I regressed into the child. I won't ever live up to his expectations; I might as well stop trying.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  All my doubts and fears disappeared in the couple of hours we spent in his room, getting ready for the party. We began the evening with mind-blowing sex. My dress got the exact reaction I hoped for. Josh loved it, and I loved the way he looked at me.

  We entered the party arm and arm and in a matter of minutes, all my doubts returned and the insecurities I had all throughout high school came back, too. I was the dumb little black girl playing dress up at the grown-ups party.

  The way people were staring me down, I kept checking to make sure nothing popped out. I tightened my grip on Josh's arm, but somehow when I squeezed a second time, he was gone. His father had pulled him into an embrace, and I stood there feeling out of place.

  Mr. Griffin stopped talking and looked me up and down. He reached out to shake my hand, but his eyes never left my chest. I fought the urge to cover up. Josh shook his head as he stood a little out of the way, watching. I tried to catch his eyes, but he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

  His father shook my hand and complimented me on my dress. I refrained from dropping in a deep curtsey. Then his father guided Josh further into the party and further away from me. I followed for a minute but soon broke away from the Griffin procession and wandered around the room on my own. I spoke to a few people. I smiled and waved at Amanda and Erin, who were whispering, but snapped to attention whenever their father needed something. When Mr. Griffin's fiancée made her entrance, the entire party fell in silent awe. I half expected to turn around and see the Queen of England.

  She was tall and blond, and her chest entered the room before the rest of her. She seemed embarrassed by the ceremony and a little out of place.

  When we found ourselves standing next to each other at one of the buffet tables, I introduced myself, but she dismissed me.

  After a glass of champagne and more idle chitchat with an older woman who asked about how much I charge for my nanny services, I decided to wander the halls of the house and find my way back to Josh's room.

  I headed down the hallway and stopped when I heard familiar voices coming from a closed door.

  Josh and his father spoke in muffled tones, not arguing, but rather Mr. Griffin lectured, and Josh whined.

  "It's okay to fuck her but don't bring her around anymore," his father said.

  Is he talking about me?

  "Ms. Carrington, anyone ever tell you it's impolite to eavesdrop?"

  My body stiffened when I heard another familiar voice behind me.

  He snaked his sleazy arms around my waist and pressed himself into me.

  "Don't worry, I won't tell," Brian whispered in my ear and then kissed my shoulder.
<
br />   A whimper escaped from my lips.

  "Shhhh, it's me. Brian."

  Did he think I would find some comfort in knowing that?

  I tried to push away from him, but my ass just pressed against the front of his pants, and he groaned from the pressure. He tightened his grip and pulled me closer.

  "Let me go." The smell of bourbon and cigars wafted from his pores. He buried his face in my hair, and my stomach rolled.

  "You look so fucking hot in that dress." He slurred his words. I tried to get away from him, but had nowhere to go.

  "Brian, please let me go." I placed my hands on the wall.

  With his lips on the back of my neck and his pelvis grinding into my ass, "I can't wait to fuck you,” he whispered.

  I whimpered and prepared to scream, but someone entered the hallway.

  "Brian?"

  Brian dropped his head and whispered, "Shit."

  Amanda stood at the end of the hall. I tried to hold in the tears, but a couple dropped and rolled down my cheek.

  "Carrington. Sweetie, I haven't seen you all night." Brian stepped away from me with his head down, and Amanda came over and grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall away from her husband.

  As we walked down the hall, she opened a door, and we found ourselves out back between the main house and Josh's room.

  "Carrington, I think it's best if you just wait for Josh in his room."

  She turned back around and headed back to the party.

  "Amanda."

  She turned back around with an unexpected amount of grace. I wanted to confront her. Ask her why she put up with that. Her husband was a pig, and no one cared, but when she turned around, I saw tears in her eyes. My voice caught in my throat, and I bit my lip. She made a choice to put up with his bullshit, and she had her reasons. She understood exactly what her husband was capable of, but she loved him anyway.

  Thank God, I’m not like her.

  She was a Griffin and had accepted her family legacy, along with its dysfunction, a long time ago. How could a beautiful, intelligent woman lose her way? I had no clue, but decided not to add to her pain by making a big deal about what happened with Brian.

  "Thank you,” I said.

  She nodded and turned back toward the main house.

  I returned to Josh’s room, grabbed my stuff and took the long trek around to the front of the house to find a ride out of here.

  Who knew getting a taxi to the airport in central Florida required a signature from the governor; who had attended the party, by the way.

  The valet driver called several companies, but they weren't willing to come out this far. He began to dial another company, when Josh pulled up in his Porsche and said, "Get in."

  He suggested it with a tense jaw and wide eyes.

  I hesitated when the valet attendant grabbed my arm.

  "I'll be fine," I said and smiled to assure him.

  I squeezed my bags and myself into the front seat. Josh turned back to the street in front of him, and we took off.

  I squeezed the door handle and chewed on the inside of my cheek and kept my mouth shut. He had no clue about Brian or any idea of what I overheard between him and his dad. Maybe he was running away, too, but he seemed angry with me.

  My leg started to cramp under the weight of my bag sitting on my lap. In this position, it pushed on my bladder, and I needed to go to the bathroom.

  When we hit the highway, Josh’s foot never lifted from the gas, and we drove at a steady eighty miles per hour. I dared to peek over in his direction, and his face softened a bit. At least his eyes were scanning the road to make sure he didn't kill us—that was a good sign.

  I grunted as I adjusted in my seat, and he looked over, but stayed silent. We drove forty-five minutes, and I needed to say something soon. I wasn't going to make it back to Tallahassee. As we approached the exit to Interstate-Twenty, instead of heading north, we continued east toward the Atlantic Ocean. Twenty minutes later, we approached a gated community. When Josh opened the window to punch a code into the keypad, I heard the ocean. Trees lined the streets and made it difficult to see beyond the road in front of us, but at the end we pulled up in front of a ten-story white washed condo.

  A young man in a white uniform came running out from a room to the side of the driveway.

  "Hi, Josh. How are you? We didn't know you were coming."

  "Hi, Mike. I know. I'm supposed to give you guys a heads up, but I'm just staying for the night."

  "Okay, well, the place is clean, but there's no food."

  Josh came around to open my door. He grabbed my bag and held his other hand out to help me up.

  "We'll call down later if we need something," Josh said.

  “You guys need anything, give me a call."

  "Thanks."

  We walked into the entry, and I held Josh's hand tight. We stepped into the elevator and he punched in a code and we rode it to the top floor.

  When I walked out of the elevator, we stepped into the entryway of an apartment that took up the whole floor. The entire back wall of the room looked out onto the ocean for miles. I headed straight for the balcony. The cool air took my breath away as I peered over the edge.

  I turned around to find Josh standing in the doorway staring at me.

  "This place is amazing."

  He stepped out to join me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  "Yeah, I love this place. My mother and I would escape here when we couldn't deal with being at the mansion."

  I held his arms, and he squeezed me tighter. I leaned my head back to rest on his chest.

  "I'm sorry I ran away. I wasn't running away from you."

  "I know."

  "I-"

  "You don't have to explain. It's fine. You're not comfortable in that environment. I get it."

  "No." I pushed out of his arms and turned to face him. "It's not me. No one would be fine in that environment, under that kind of scrutiny. That's not normal."

  "I know."

  "No, I don't think you know. Or maybe you're too close to understand that normal people don't live like your family and your father and his archaic views on relationships. Your sister's in denial that she’s married to a sadistic womanizing freak and your other sister doesn't have a life of her own because she is still trying to get her daddy to love her. It's sad."

  "Carr, I know. You don't have to tell me about my family."

  "Why would you even bring me there?" I asked.

  "I don't know. I thought it would be different with you." He sat down on one of the lounge chairs. "You’re so much like my mother, and I don't mean that in a creepy way."

  "Well, explain, because that is kind of creepy."

  "I just mean that like my mom, you understand that the money, the mansion, my father’s name doesn’t mean anything. It’s not who I am. I thought if I brought you to the party, you would understand where I come from and more important, you would understand why it’s so hard for me to talk about my mother."

  "Josh, what happened to your mother?" I asked.

  "She killed herself."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

  "My parents met at FSU. It was love at first sight,” I said and tried to control my cynical smirk. My parents never looked like two people in love. “Everyone knew my dad because of our family, but he fell for a hippie from Tennessee, which wasn’t allowed. Everyone expected my dad to marry someone from a wealthy family. Despite that, he married my mom anyway.”

  We headed back inside and sank into the overstuffed couch. I continued to tell Carrington about my parents. I hoped once she heard, she would understand me better.

  "My father wasn't always an asshole. My mom told me story after story about how different he was back then. My dad’s family already had his life planned out—he would take over the family business when he graduated. But when he told my grandfather he wanted to take a year off and travel with my mom, they blamed her for changing him. They t
reated her so bad back then and she took it because my father promised things would be different once they got married.

  "So, my parents got married at city hall their senior year and kept it a secret from everyone until after they graduated. They planned to take off and travel the world with my father’s trust fund and after a year, they would return to Florida and my father would take over the business. But when he told my grandfather, he freaked and cut him off. My mom and dad flew to London a few days later, but after two weeks of living in hostels and riding trains, my dad got a good idea of what it was like to live without money. He was miserable. He convinced my mom to go back. He told her he would work for his dad until he turned twenty-five and by that time, the money would be his and they could do whatever they wanted."

  "So what happened?"

  "Amanda, and then Erin came along, and then a few years later, I showed up. My grandfather died and no one else could take over, so my dad stayed. Like he never even discussed it with my mom, it just sort of happened. She still held out hope. I remember her telling me how she and Dad were going to travel the world someday, so she held on to this dream for like ten years. I felt so bad for her."

  “God, that’s so sad. Can you imagine living your life so unhappy for so long?”

  Carrington had no idea that was how I’d been until I met her.

  "My sisters were always close to my father, but when I came along, he was so excited to have a son. You know the whole male heir thing. My mom said he acted like the King of England. His legacy would live on because he had a son to carry his name, but it became pretty obvious pretty quick that I wasn't turning out to be the son my father wanted.”

  I was embarrassed to admit all this to Carrington, but she needed to hear it as much as I needed to tell her.

  “Early on, I was afraid of my father, and my mom kind of shielded me from him as much as she could.”

  “Why were you afraid of him?”

  “I don’t know. I guess his size intimidated me. To a little boy, he seemed like a giant.”

  “But your sisters weren’t scared.”

  “No, but …”

  “Umm, I don’t know, but there had to be a reason why you and your dad didn’t get along.”