Page 82 of Bad Boy Neighbor

I have ten minutes until I promised to meet Seb and Lana in this very lobby. I’m ashamed I even came here, angry at myself for allowing my emotions to control me once again.

But most of all, the jealousy is eating away at me like a parasite.

Gabriella Carmichael is a force to be reckoned with.

And once again, I’m standing in the middle of her path of destruction.

Twenty-Five

Gabriella

The moment I landed back in California, I took Lana up on her offer and accepted the administration role at her law firm. It paid decently, but to top up my funds, considering I was starting with absolutely nothing, I took on a night job at a local bar serving patrons.

My mother would die on the spot knowing her daughter was waitressing.

“You don’t need to work two jobs. This is your home too and you’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” Lana reminded me every single day.

“I know,” I always responded the same. “But I need to get my own place and learn how to be a responsible adult.”

On the weekends, I volunteer at one of the homeless women’s shelters downtown. Whatever I did during the week would balance my yearn to give back. I’m not stupid—the silver spoon I once owned had to have taught me something about life. Truth be told, giving myself to those in need made me happy. I didn’t have money to throw around or donate, but my time was more valuable than anything.

Life has been one lesson after another. I constantly find myself learning new things. Things which come so easily to people around me, yet in so many ways, my wealthy upbringing sheltered me from reality.

The change brought on waves of emotions. It’s mentally draining, but it is my life now. Every decision I make comes straight from my head and heart.

And true to form, my family has shunned me.

But I haven’t once regretted my decision to leave.

Yet, the shock of the revelation of my true paternity began to consume me. I’m already emotionally unstable, trying my best to find my feet as well as gain confidence in what feels like a whole new world.

Several times I’ve reached out to my mother—spur-of-the-moment desperation to learn more about my biological father.

Time after time, I hear nothing in return.

Then one day, she responds with a letter.

Dear Gabriella,

I thought it was best to write you this letter as contact with you is forbidden in our family.

I am saddened by your decision to leave, the aftermath a punishment for my indiscretion twenty-five years ago.

However, I understand your desire to trace your heritage and believe I owe you at least that.

Miles Kelly was his name. An Australian swimming champion I met at your grandmother’s Annual Charity Ball.

While it may be difficult for you to understand, I want you to know that I loved him. Miles was more than a fleeting affair. He was a man willing to give me everything. Miles loved me, and in the short time we were together, my world completely changed.

If things were different, maybe your life would have been different. But as you know, the Carmichael monarchy doesn’t allow for such a scandal. Edward found out, Mile’s visa was canceled, and I never saw him again.

I found out months later I was pregnant with you. In ways, finding out at fourteen weeks was a blessing, or Edward would have forced me to terminate. He refused for anyone to learn of my indiscretion and demanded his name be on your birth certificate.

Miles was originally from Australia, and from memory, his parents owned a bakery in the Blue Mountains called The Mile Stop. Perhaps, if you trace the whereabouts of that place, it may lead you to him.

I’m sorry I can’t help you any more than this. My talking to you may cause you more damage than good.

Take care of yourself.

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