Page 7

Chapter seven

T he weekend came and went, and Paris and Vic both managed to stay out of trouble, or so they thought. On Monday, at six in the morning, the God-forsaken racket of drilling, pounding, and grinding once again jolted the pair awake. It was impossible to ignore the clank, clank, clank, emitting from the apartment across the hall.

Vic rolled over and covered his head with his pillow, hoping he could ignore the sounds and get another hour of sleep, but it was no use. He rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. If he couldn't ignore it, he would take a nice long shower to relax some before heading back to the boardroom.

Paris found herself wishing she had some earplugs when the ruckus began. She ducked under the covers and pressed her hands to her ears, but she could still hear and feel the sound and vibrations of the pounding. Sitting up, she threw back the blankets and let out a frustrated growl. This was not how she wanted to start her Monday. She threw her pillow in contempt.

Clenching her teeth, she sprung out of bed and headed for her bathroom. Turning on the water, she stepped away for a moment to locate a playlist on her phone while the temperature warmed. Finding what she was looking for, she pressed play and stepped into the shower. The needles of hot spray felt great as they massaged into her tired body.

In his own shower, Vic was enjoying his own playlist. The Celtic sound of the Dropkick Murphy's filled the room as Vic sang along loudly. No one would have guessed that Vic Alarie was into the concept of singing in the shower, and he preferred to keep it that way, despite how great his voice actually sounded. He had barely finished rinsing when the water cut out. As his playlist began shuffling to the next song, he heard Paris screaming in anger next door. He hopped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself.

Banging on Paris's door, he waited a moment and received no answer, so he tried the handle. It was unlocked, so, he let himself in. “Paris? Hello? Are you okay?” he called out.

Paris presented herself in a pair of sweatpants and a tank, with a towel atop her head. “My water has stopped working mid-shower!” she cried. “I'm covered in suds. I can't go to work like this. My hair’s a mess! Why are you wearing nothing but a towel?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I was in the shower as well and heard your screams. I wanted to make sure you didn't get hurt or something,” he replied carefully.

“Don't make any sudden moves!” she blurted. “I don't want that towel coming undone.”

“Why not? You seemed to have trouble looking away that night at my condo.” He laughed.

Removing the towel from her head, she threw it at him. “I doubt that very much!” she snapped.

“Dang, you weren't kidding. Your hair is full of suds,” said Vic. “Why don't we go over to Mya's, and you can finish showering?”

“We need to find out why the water is off and how long it's going to be. This is ridiculous,” she whined.

“Calm down, princess, I’ll look into it. Get your phone and call Mya. Tell her you’ll be over shortly. I'm sure she’ll let you use her shower.”

Paris picked up her phone and dialed Mya. She hated having to ask for a favor, but she was desperate.

“Hello?” answered Mya.

“Hi. It's Paris. While I was showering, someone turned off the water. I’m covered in soap and desperate. Do you still have water?”

“As far as I know. Let me check.” Mya set the phone down and went to the faucet. Flipping it on, she watched as water flowed into the sink. Turning back to her phone, she said, “Yep. My water’s still running.”

“May I please come over and finish showering at your place?” she begged.

“Yeah, sure,” replied Mya. “I'll see you in a few.”

Paris hung up the phone and gathered her work clothes. When she exited her apartment, Vic was already dressed and waiting by the elevator. “I tried to talk to one of the workers, but he couldn’t hear me. I called and asked Chase to bring coffee. Lord knows I need it this morning. I wonder how long the remodel is scheduled to continue for?” Paris followed Vic into the elevator.

“I don't know, but this is driving me mad,” she said. “I feel like I’ve time-warped to some other dimension.”

“Woman, you don't have to tell me how it feels. I'm right here with you.”

Stepping off the elevator, Paris fast-walked to Mya's apartment, hoping no one else would be in the hall. Once inside, Mya gave her a new towel, and she headed off to the bathroom to finish cleaning up.

Mya looked to Vic, “How are things? Are you ready for the meeting today?”

“Yes and no,” he replied. “I'm already tired of this charade and wanting it to be over.”

“You can want, all you desire, but it won't be over until you actually make some changes,” she said.

A knock sounded at the door. Vic opened it to find Chase standing in the hallway with four cups of coffee in a cardboard carrier. “Morning,” he said happily as he handed Mya and Vic each a cup. “Did everyone sleep well?”

“Not particularly,” replied Vic. “This morning, we were once again awoken by the construction at six-o-clock and then while we were showering, the water to our apartments was turned off.”

“Oh, that's too bad. Drink your coffee. It’ll make you feel a little more human,” he instructed.

“You’re enjoying this a bit too much,” replied Vic. Chase nodded in return and Vic rolled his eyes.

Once Paris had finished her morning routine, the party set out for the main ADG building. Their group was the first to arrive at the meeting. They grabbed more coffee and pastries and took their seats all on one side of the table. The seniors came in and took their seats across from them. Vic felt as if he was at an interview. Little did he know, it was much like an interview.

“Good morning,” said Jessamine. “How are you all doing today? Paris, you look a little tired, sweetie.”

“I am,” she replied. “I couldn’t sleep last night, and this morning, while I was in the shower, the workers shut off the water to our apartment.”

“Oh, that’s terrible! We’ll inform the work crew they must notify you from now on if there will be any shut-offs,” replied her mother. Paris let out an audible sigh when she realized her family knew the complete extent of their current living situation.

“How about the rest of you?” asked Jessamine.

“I’m good, Mom,” replied Vic. “I made it out of the shower before the water stopped.” Turning away, he smirked at Paris, who shook her head angrily.

“You look good, Vic. I see you found some clothes to wear. Considering where you had to go, I think you all did fairly well,” said Dom.

“Mya, Chase, how about you? How are things going? Are they behaving themselves?”

Chase nodded his head to the affirmative. “I can’t speak for how things are when they’re at work, but outside of the office, they seem to be behaving themselves.”

“Oh, really?” asked Cristo. “Then what’s this?” he asked as he produced the morning’s paper and slid it across the table to Chase. “Feel free to read the headline out loud.”

“Oh, damn,” said Chase. “ ADG Heirs Cut Off From Trust Funds And Demoted . Vic! I told you to be careful. I warned you about Janel. How could you be so careless?”

Vic choked on his coffee, sputtering droplets across the table. He neither suspected Janel would try to hurt him, nor that Chase had an angry bone in his body. The headline humiliated him. One thing was for certain. He and Janel were through for good this time.

“Thanks a lot,” said Paris. She had nothing more to say to him. She couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid as to tell his ex about their current situation. Now everyone would know, and it was beyond embarrassing.

“Definitely not what we expected to see in the papers this morning,” said Nicola. “I would have thought you two would have kept this situation to yourselves,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Moving on to the next order of business,” said Mikel. “How do you think you did with your new positions?” he asked.

“I busted my butt,” said Paris. “I think I followed directions well, and I got things done. I’m quite proud of the week I had.”

“Yes, you did very well,” agreed her father.

“Vic, what about you?” asked Jessamine. “How’d you do?”

“I learned the job. It was easy. The week flew by,” he replied.

“Uh-huh,” said Dom. “What about the part where you quit working halfway through?”

“Dad, I didn’t stop working. I just didn’t complete as many assignments. The job was simple, but it got boring fast. It’s not like the work didn’t get done.”

“The problem, Vic, is that the person who was supposed to be doing it, did not complete the work. Tell me, what would you do if you hired someone and halfway through the week, they simply stopped doing the job you had trained them on?” asked Dom.

“I’d discuss their performance with them and get them back on track. If they didn’t take it seriously, I’d find someone to retrain them,” he replied.

“You’d retrain them?” asked Mikel.

“Yes, sir,” replied Vic.

“No, sir,” replied his father. “You, my son, have fired people for much less.”

“He’s right,” backed Chase. “You’ve fired people for much less and on their first day of work, even. You’ve shown no mercy.”

“So,” said Mikel, “this is what we’re going to do. You, my young friend, are fired.”

“Seriously?” asked Vic. “You already demoted me to nothing.”

“Oh, trust me, there’s always somewhere else for us to put you,” replied Dom.

“Paris, you did a great job, but unfortunately, you’re going with him,” stated her mother.

“What?!” shrieked Paris. “Why am I being punished for his mistake?”

“If one of you fails, both of you fail, remember? You had better get that in your heads, or this will be an ugly process,” added her father.

“You’ll have to take this up with each other,” replied Dom. “You’re either best friends or worst enemies. It’s your choice.

“Now, if you two will excuse yourselves from the boardroom, we must discuss a couple of things with Chase and Mya. You may wait in the lobby,” said Cristo as he waved them toward the door.

Paris and Vic got up and left the room. Paris wanted to strangle Vic, but she knew that would only make her situation worse. For now, she planned to ignore him. She would tell him later just how much she hated him, but he could stew in it for the time being.

Vic knew Paris was angry, and he honestly couldn’t blame her. He would have been pissed, too, if she had gotten him fired from the lowest job he could have imagined. Apparently, his imagination wasn’t so great if other places were waiting for him below the mailroom. He was shocked at how serious the situation had become.

In the boardroom, Mya didn’t know what was coming next. She hadn’t suspected a further demotion, and in allowing such a thing to happen, she worried that she and Chase would be punished as well. She waited anxiously for the seniors to speak.

“Listen,” said Nicola, “we know you’re working hard. We expected that there could be hiccups before any genuine changes take place. You’re not to blame for these mistakes. We recognize you’re doing everything we’ve asked of you, and that’s all we can expect.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about the article, Chase,” said Cristo. “I suspect it would have gotten out one way or another.”

“We’ve resolved to work with the media to put a spin on the situation. We’ll let them know that this is a strong and progressive tactic that we’ve put into place to teach Paris and Vic a lesson and help restore them to their prior selves. The people they were before we lost Alli and Brody,” said Dom. “We’ll force them to sign a document stating that they may release none of this information until after the situation has resolved itself. Our lawyers are already at work.”

“We’re placing Vic and Paris in Janitorial. We suspect this will give them a stronger appreciation for those who clean up after them regularly. The job isn’t easy, and some people think it’s below them, but it deserves respect, and it takes a lot of effort to be successful,” said Nicola. “My father, Burt, will be there to look after them and guide them as well. He’s good at getting people back on track, and he loves his job, which should help them take their situation a little more seriously.”

Nodding, Mikel added, “You’ll take them to their new jobs, and you’ll continue to encourage and help them in any way you can. Be sure to report to us if there are any issues or positive happenings.”

“We will,” replied Chase.

“Okay then, you may be on your way. I hope that next week we’ll be promoting instead of demoting,” said Jessamine.

“Thank you,” replied Mya. “We’ll do everything we can to help them be successful.” Chase nodded in agreement, and then they both retreated.

Once they were out of earshot, Chase said, “That turned out better than I thought it would.”

“Yeah, I agree. When Cristo took out that paper, I thought for sure we were in hot water.” She was thankful that the board members were giving credit where credit was due, but she also felt sorry for Paris. Paris was actually trying to do a good job, and now Mya and Chase had to tell her she was about to be a janitor. Paris was a complete germaphobe, so this would be a nightmare for her.

Mya and Chase found Paris and Vic waiting in the lobby, as instructed. Paris stood with her body facing away from Vic, who was staring blankly out the window.

“Hey,” said Chase. Both Paris and Vic turned to look at him. “We’re to take you over to Janitorial.”

Paris’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be joking. I refuse to scrub toilets. I did nothing wrong,” she whined.

“Damn,” said Vic. “I was wrong. It can get worse.”

“Listen,” requested Mya. “I know you don’t want to do this. I feel for you. Neither of you even knows how to clean your own homes, let alone a business, but you have to do this if you ever want your regular lives back. Please, think of it as temporary, so you can do the best job possible and move on to the next thing.”

Chase nodded to back her statement. “She’s right. With any luck, it’ll only be for a week.”

“I don’t want to,” Paris whispered. She looked as if she might cry.

Mya waved for them to follow her. They got on the elevator and she pressed the button for the basement. Exiting the elevator, Chase led them to Building Maintenance, which housed the janitorial staff.

Stepping inside, the smell of grease and cleaning supplies assaulted their noses. Burt, who was acting head of maintenance and janitorial, met them. He did not need to work, as he’d hit it big in the stock market at an early age. Burt knew how to invest and he had built himself a multi-million-dollar nest egg, but given his love for fixing things and his inability to sit still, he helped his daughter and son-in-law by running the department.

“Hey, kids,” he greeted them. “I see you’re working for me starting today.” Burt, grinning, handed them their uniforms, consisting of a grey zippered jumpsuit. “Now I know you aren’t used to this sort of work,” he noted, “but we’ll go easy on you starting out.”

“Thanks,” Paris replied hesitantly.

Burt wrapped his arm around his granddaughter and gave her a squeeze. “Buck up, kid. Things aren’t as bad as they seem. Chase and Mya, you may go,” said Burt. “They’ll be released from my service at four-thirty.”

“Bye,” said Chase. “Hang in there. You’ll do fine.”

Paris didn’t feel like his encouragement was helpful. She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide until the nightmare ended. She also wanted to bludgeon Vic with a mop for getting her into this mess.

When they were young, the DeMarcé and Alarie children would play hide and seek throughout the Building Maintenance Department. Burt and his crew would play along. There had been a day when Vic and Paris had felt as if Building Maintenance was a magic kingdom that belonged to them. Those days had long since disappeared.

“Your first task,” said Burt, “will be to empty the trash and recycling throughout the building. We won’t do any training on hazardous materials yet.”

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” said Paris, as she rolled her eyes.

Burt paused and stared her down for a moment. “You may think this is a joke or a job that’s beneath you, but let me tell you something, missy, it’s people like me that keep your world clean and moving along. If we don’t do our jobs, others can’t do theirs. Your streets would be littered with trash, and your restrooms smeared with poop and heaven knows what else. Think of the nastiest gas station bathroom you’ve ever had to use, and then imagine if it was worse. You’re welcome,” he snapped. “And, Paris, honey, don’t look at me as grandpa during this. See me as your boss,” he requested.

“I’m sorry,” she said, averting her eyes. “I didn’t mean to offend you. You know I’ve never had to clean before. This is outside my wheelhouse.”

“Well, sweetheart, don’t you think it’s time you learned to be a proper adult?” asked her grandfather. “This is work. Real life lessons. Now, follow me,” he ordered.

Vic had kept his mouth shut the entire time Burt spoke. He wasn’t thrilled to be a janitor, and he realized he couldn’t complain since he was the one who dragged Paris down with him. He worried about what would come next. What if she couldn’t do it? They could be trapped at this job for months. He’d have to apologize and get on her good side.

They followed Burt quietly to the supply closet, where he explained what was expected of them.

Paris left janitorial with a large cart that held two bins. One bin for trash, the other for recycling. When the bins filled, she was shown the designated locations for emptying. The job was pretty straightforward, but she wasn’t stoked. She didn’t want the ADG staff to see her traipsing around as a janitor. What would they think? How would they ever take her seriously in the future?

In actuality, no one seemed to pay any attention to Paris or Vic as they went about their jobs. Both had on their required work attire, which seemed to act like an invisibility cloak. Even when they passed by people they knew, no one noticed who they were or even acknowledged their presence. In emotional defense of her grandfather and his work, Paris became irritated that none of the other staff took notice of the people who were keeping their world clean. In the future, she would have to make a point of saying thank you more often to the maintenance and janitorial staff.

The first day was monotonous, but went by quickly. Day two seemed to last forever as they learned about safety and hazardous chemicals. Burt was long-winded in his explanations, and, as per usual, he thought he was pretty funny. Vic struggled to listen because he neither cared for long explanations nor Burt’s sense of humor. On day three, things took a serious turn for the worse.

Burt instructed Paris and Vic to clean the bathrooms on floor twelve. Little did Paris know, there was a clogged toilet on twelve, and it was her job to fix it. She went at it with her trusty plunger, but nothing seemed to budge. Putting some extra strength into it, she heaved the plunger down and was immediately sprayed with fecal matter, and heaven only knew what else. Shrieking, she jumped backward and stepped on the mop handle, which was lying on the floor. Losing her balance from the loose footing, she fell backward and cracked her head on one of the sinks, rendering herself unconscious.

Vic heard the scream as he was cleaning the men’s bathroom next door. Rushing into the women’s, he found Paris lying on the floor, still unconscious. Shaking her did nothing to bring her around, so he turned on the closest faucet and splashed cold water on her face, which immediately brought her to. Sputtering, she brushed water and dark matter away from her eyes.

“What happened?” she asked with confusion.

“Well, judging by the look of things, I’d say you got sprayed by the toilet and then tripped and hit your head on the sink. Here,” said Vic, handing her a dampened towel.

Grabbing the towel, she attempted to clean herself off. “Great. Now I’ll smell like a toilet all day.”

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You hit your head pretty hard.” Reaching out, he ran his fingers over the back of her head. “You have a pretty good bump back there. I think we should get you checked out.”

Pushing Vic away, she said with a sigh, “Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

“Paris, I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, I’m miserable too.”

“It really isn’t. This just goes to prove what an incredibly inconsiderate and self-centered jerk you are.”

“Well, it takes one to know one,” he spat back. “At least we get to work with your grandfather. That’s kind of a plus.” He smiled sheepishly. “Would an inconsiderate and self-centered jerk think you should see a doctor about the bump on your head?” Turning away from her, he went back to the men’s room. He wasn’t about to force her to get help, though he honestly was worried. When he was younger, one of his friends lost a parent to a ski injury in which they hit their head and refused to be looked over by a doctor. Freak accident , he thought.

At four-thirty, Vic headed back to Building Maintenance and the Janitorial wing. Paris was nowhere to be seen. “Hey, Burt, is Paris still here?” he asked.

“No, sir. Girl hit her head on a sink. It’s a crying shame how clumsy that one is. I made her go to medical. I even offered to stay with her, but she threw a fit, so I left her there and asked her to check in once she finished. She has a mild concussion, and seeing as she was covered in dark matter, and as she put it, traumatized, I sent her home for the remainder of the day. She’ll be fine, but check in on her.”

“Wow, okay,” replied Vic. “I’m calling it a day if that’s alright with you?”

“Sure thing, kid,” replied Burt.

“Thanks.” Peeling off his jumpsuit, he tossed it into the laundry bin. “See you tomorrow.”

Back at home, the shower was once again working, and Paris stood in the hot water, allowing the goo of the day’s miseries to run down her body and into the drain. She shuddered to think that she had managed to knock herself unconscious. Her grandfather told her she “really needed to be more careful,” which was obvious. Doctor Schuh couldn’t seem to understand the scenario in which she went from plunging a toilet to unconscious on the ground. Chase met her at medical, and upon finding out she would be okay, couldn’t stop laughing about what had happened. He did apologize profusely in-between laughs, and he took the initiative to report back to her grandfather for her.

Rinsing the deep conditioner from her hair, she let the rest of her misery go. Two more days and the week would be over. With any luck, she would be back in the mailroom the following Monday. Feeling low, she wished she still had her pills. “Damn that Mya,” she said out loud. Dropping her head into her hands, she grumbled, “I hate my life.”

Unfortunately for Paris, the next day wasn’t much better. She arrived at work by seven-thirty, and she and Vic were put on light bulb duty. They were to go through each office and replace any light that was burnt out. It seemed simple enough, though she refused to work alongside Vic, as she blamed him for her current employment situation.

At midday, Paris balanced precariously on a ladder as she attempted to change one of the boardroom lights. The maneuver was awkward and her feet and hands wobbled as she tried to remove the old bulb.

“Hey Paris!” yelled Jack.

Paris jumped at the sound of his voice. The large light-tube flew into the air as she fell backward off the ladder. The bulb shattered on the floor, and Paris bounced off the boardroom table, knocking into a chair on her way down, causing it to somersault into the air.

“Are you okay?” screeched Jack, as he scrambled to her side.

She wheezed as she tried to catch her breath. Glass sparkled in her hair, and the chair balanced awkwardly on top of her.

Jack tossed the chair aside. “Don’t move,” he said. “You’re cut, and you may have broken ribs.” Pressing the intercom, he called for help. Medical arrived within minutes and hauled her off to see Dr. Schuh once again.

Vic stood in front of his locker, removing his jumpsuit, when Burt walked in. “That granddaughter of mine. Sheesh. She has got to stop with the acrobatics.”

“What do you mean?” asked Vic.

Shaking his head, he said, “Day two and I had to send her home again. Today, she fell off a ladder and ended up back in medical. She was much tougher as a child. I don’t understand what happened, but I don’t think she’s cut out for this job. I should have pushed her parents to give her more chores as a child.”

“Yeah. Maybe that would’ve helped,” Vic replied with a frown. “Is she okay?”

“She cut her head and her ego and body are both bruised, but she’ll be okay, they assured me.”

Paris was not okay. Mentally, she felt like she might be suffering a psychotic break. She couldn’t believe how lousy her luck had been. Jack stayed with her until Dr. Schuh said it was okay for her to go home. Doctor Schuh told her, “You have got to be more careful. You could have broken your neck.” If she had broken her neck, she wouldn’t have to deal with the insanity any longer. It shocked Chase and Mya that her day had ended in medical two days in a row.

“Hey,” said Jack, “let’s buy something. That always makes you feel better.” He sat in her

living room, smiling back at her from behind a frosty beer. He made it his job to know what Paris liked in the event that she ever took him up on his requests to take her out on a proper date.

Paris stared back at the handsome young man in front of her. He had deep brown puppy

dog eyes, and messy blonde hair that was longer on top and shorn on the sides. She’d never go for him, despite how sweet he could be. He was Vic’s little brother, and she couldn’t cross that line.

“Or,” he said, “we can grab dinner at the café up the street.”

“Jack, don’t,” she replied. He looked incredibly young with his hair pulled back in a ponytail. He wore jeans and a Nirvana t-shirt. Oh, to be his age again . “I’ll take that beer away from you.” He was, after all, not of drinking age, but she knew he drank with his family on a regular basis, and he was nineteen, so when he pulled the beer out of his bag, she let him be.

“What? Can’t a guy buy a traumatized girl some dinner?”

“Your brother would flip if I ever were to date you,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I liked your first idea, though I’m short on money these days,” she said with disappointment.

“It doesn’t hurt to browse,” said Jack.

“True,” she replied happily. Giving in, she sat down on the couch next to Jack, and he handed her his work laptop.

“I think I’ll grab some food from Burritos to Taco Bout . You want something?” he asked.

“Sure, get me a Supreme, please.”

“’Kay, I’ll be back shortly.”

In the twenty-five minutes that Jack was gone, and before she had a chance to realize what she’d done, Paris managed to spend all of her leftover money. Like a crack addict, she couldn’t seem to help herself. When Jack returned with the food, she was sitting on the couch staring at the wall, tears running silently down her face.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I spent it all!” she wailed.

“What? Explain,” he requested.

“I spent all of my leftover money. It’s completely gone.”

“Well, return something,” he demanded.

“I can’t,” she replied. “Non-returnable.”

“Paris, what sort of store are you shopping at that you can’t return items to?”

“Not a store,” she sighed. “An auction.”

“Oh, man,” he said as he dropped the food on the coffee table. “When I said buy something, I thought maybe a cute shirt, or a new purse, not a bunch of random auction items. Where’s your restraint?”

“I have none!” she cried. “I didn’t think I’d actually win the bids.”

“I can’t bail you out,” stated Jack. “Our parents made it clear that no one, except Vic, is allowed to give you money. I also have to tell Mya and Chase about this.”

“What? No! You can’t!”

“I have to. I don’t have a choice,” he replied. “I’ve been instructed and threatened basically that if I don’t report to them, I’ll end up in the same situation as you and Vic.”

“This would have been helpful information before you followed me home!” hollered Paris as she threw her unopened burrito at him.

“Hey, watch it,” he replied. “I know you’re feeling vulnerable, so I’ll let it slide this once, but if you ever throw anything at me again, I’ll report that as well.” Grabbing his bag of food along with the burrito Paris had thrown at him, he stormed out of her apartment. Rushing after him, Paris slammed the door in his wake.

Vic had only been home for fifteen minutes. Long enough to tear off his clothing down to his generic boxers and pour himself some Scotch, when he heard the commotion from next door. He really didn’t want to deal with it, but the noises and the voices had piqued his curiosity. It sounded like his younger brother and Paris arguing.

With resolve, he pulled on his sweatpants and proceeded to drag himself over to Paris’s. She answered the door, but only after he yelled for her to, “Open up!”

“What do you want?” she hissed through her tears.

“I heard yelling, as well as about your incident today, and I thought I’d check to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. She wasn’t fine, but she didn’t want to deal with Vic.

“Did I hear Jack?” he asked. “There’s a beer bottle on your table, and he’s the only person I know that drinks that crappy brand.”

Paris turned to look at the telltale bottle she’d left sitting out. “Yes, Jack was here, but only because he’s the reason I fell off the ladder. He demanded I allow him to accompany me home and stay with me until he felt I would be okay. I tried to say no, but he’s very persistent,” she complained.

“You aren’t dating him, are you?” asked Vic as he eyed her suspiciously.

“Why are you so paranoid?” asked Paris. “No, I’m not dating him, but what if I wanted to? Is that so wrong?”

“Yes. He’s my innocent little brother,” replied Vic through gritted teeth. “And you’re a hungry harpy who tears men apart.”

“A harpy? Really, Vic? That’s what you liken me to?” Paris’s chest ached at his comment. He could be so mean, and she couldn’t believe he thought so low of her. She rarely dated, and she didn’t sleep around. “How can you say that?”

“I’ve seen how you work. I just know it’s true. Besides, you’re into things I don’t want my little brother to be a part of,” he added.

“Like what?” she demanded.

“Drugs, for starters. Oh, and stealing,” he said as he pointed a finger at her.

“Don’t point your finger at me, buddy,” her voice had raised an octave. “And for the record, I may have tried a couple of things, but I’m done with that.”

“Stealing, or drugs?” he asked.

“Obviously, I’m referring to the drugs. I haven't touched a single pill since Mya ground them in my disposal.”

“Oh, so you’re not done with stealing?” he asked.

“Well,” she said, sticking out her chin. “Now that I have no money, I may not have a choice.”

Vic shook his head. He was floored at how ridiculous Paris acted. She’d been handed everything in life, yet she chose to steal things simply because she could. It was maddening to think about. “You’ll be fine. We’ll get our jobs and money back, you’ll see.”

“No, you don’t understand,” she said, tears threatening to fall. Pull it together, Paris, she thought to herself. The last person she needed to see her cry was Vic. “I’ve spent all my current money,” she added sheepishly.

“What?” demanded Vic. “How?”

“I was upset, and Jack suggested I buy myself something.”

“You listened to him? He’s a baby, Paris. He barely knows his left hand from his right. Whatever would possess you to take his advice?”

“It sounded like a good idea at the time.”

“You need to cancel that order,” he said.

“I can’t.” Her bottom lip began to quiver.

“Yes, you can,” he replied. “It’s simple. You go to your account and hit cancel.”

“No, I can’t,” she said shakily. “It was an auction. Your little brother has run off to tell Mya and Chase about my epic failure, as we speak.”

“Lord, have mercy,” said Vic as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t know what to say. The woman was maddening and seemed to be hell-bent on making his life miserable. He had to admit, though, aside from her clumsiness, she really had put forth some effort into their current situation. At least until now. He would make a mental note to give Jack a sound tongue lashing when he saw him next. That boy always thought he knew what was best, but rarely did he have a good idea outside of his writing. He lived in a fantasy world most of the time. It was all roses and damsels in distress.

Breaking into Vic’s thoughts, Paris asked, “What am I going to do?”

“Woman, this better not push us further down the rabbit hole,” replied Vic. “I can’t even imagine what worse job could be waiting for us if this doesn’t pan out.”

“You know what,” replied Paris, “you’re the reason we ended up janitors. I was doing just fine in the mailroom. You’re the one who can’t keep it in your pants. Slacking off to chase tail is not okay, especially at your age. I would have moved up from there if I hadn’t been tethered to your ungrateful butt.”

“Ungrateful? Don’t make me laugh. You’re the queen of ungratefulness, Paris. I don’t know what you’re going to do about your money problem. It’s not my issue. Good luck,” he said, slamming the door as he left.

Saturday morning, Vic set out to meet his family for a game of tennis. Normally, he and his brother would team up against their parents. The game had become a fun family ritual that took place at least twice per month. Whenever his cousin Breanna was in town, she and Cristo would form a team and play as well. Today his brother and Cristo had some business to attend to, so Breanna had swapped in as his partner.

“You ready for this?” asked Breanna. She was bouncing from one foot to the other, her blonde ponytail whipping back and forth. Her energy was off the charts. He’d be lying if he said he’d never wondered if the girl was on speed, but she’d exhibited such behavior as far back as childhood.

“Give me some of what you’re having,” he said, “and I think I’ll manage.”

“Nah, you can’t bottle this,” she laughed. “We have thirty minutes until game time. You still have a couple of miles in you?”

“You want to run before the match?” asked Vic.

“Come on, Vic, for old time’s sake? I miss those high school days when we ran cross country together.”

“I usually take Saturday off and play tennis instead. It’s easier on the knees.”

“Seriously? You must be getting old,” she said with a snort. “Do it for me. Please?”

“Fine,” he conceded. They stopped to drop their bags in lockers and then were on their way after a brief stretch.

Without wasting any time, Breanna said, “I heard about your situation.”

“What situation?” asked Vic. He’d play dumb and see how much she truly knew.

“For starters, it sounds like you lost your job and were asked to move out of your condo because of something that happened the night of the festival. Did you find another job yet?”

Vic stopped running, and Breanna faltered only briefly as she came to a halt in front of him. Lowering his voice, he asked, “Who told you that?”

“Word gets around,” she replied, “but I actually heard it from Jack. He said things are a bit of a mess right now because you’re no longer a Senior Planner. It’s true then?”

“Yeah. It’s true,” he replied huffily. “This isn’t something I care to discuss. I just want to forget about it for a while.”

“I’m surprised you’re still willing to stick to your weekend ritual, all things considered.”

“You don’t know the whole story,” said Vic. “They’re making us jump through some hoops to try to win back their approval and our previous lives. This is some big game to them.”

Breanna’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Us?”

Vic scowled at her. “So, let me get this straight, Jack told you about my situation, but he failed to mention Paris is in the same boat?”

“What? No. He didn’t tell me that.”

“Figures. He’s always trying to play the protector. He has Paris placed on top of some pedestal. One of these days, she’ll fall.” He was angry at his brother for being so forthcoming with information relating to his fragile state. Where was the family loyalty? It hurt knowing that Jack could throw him under the bus and raise Paris up all in one slick motion.

“Vic, don’t blame Jack. He’s basically a child still. He hasn’t lived through half of what we have.”

“I don’t care. He needs to learn that some things should be kept to himself, and if he is going to divulge information to another family member, then he’d better tell the whole damn story and not just the parts he likes.”

“Why don’t you tell me in your own words what happened?” she requested.

Shaking his head, he said, “It’s too embarrassing. I’m still shocked that our own family is putting us out like they are.”

“Putting you out? There must be a lot more to this situation than what Jack told me.” Her usual smile had turned to a frown as she waited for his response.

“Not surprising,” he replied, breaking into a jog. Breanna stepped off after him.

“Tell me, please. Maybe I can help.”

“Fine, I guess it’s better you hear it from me than from the media. They already have a whiff of this story.”

“Oh, geez, that makes things even worse.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Vic took a deep breath, then expelled the entire story of the past few weeks. When he finished, Breanna’s eyes went wide, and she stopped jogging. Vic watched as her face contorted and a small laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, you think this is funny?” At that moment, Breanna lost control, doubling over and laughing hysterically. “Come on. Get it all out of your system,” he replied with a scowl.

“I’m sorry,” she said between gasps for air. “I really am.”

Raising an eyebrow, he frowned, slowly nodding his head. “Yeah, it genuinely seems you are.”

Managing to get a hold of herself, she paused and took a deep breath. “Our parents are brilliant. Don’t you get what’s happening?”

“Yeah, we’re being punished.”

“That’s only half of it,” she said in a more serious tone. “They’re testing you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You really don’t know how lucky you are. I swear to you, this is much more than a simple punishment. They’re looking for something, or you’d already be out on your own. Consider this a blessing because you still have a shot.” She grinned as she took off at a full-on run. “Let’s go. We’re cutting it close if we plan to play tennis today.”

Vic ran after her, his mind reeling at the discovery she’d made. Were they being tested? If so, why? He knew they’d made mistakes, but what was the point of this whole situation other than to punish them? He’d bring the conversation to Paris at a later point in time. Perhaps she’d have some insight.