Page 33 of Myself

She nods as if that’s acceptable.

“What are your plans now that you’re back home?” Debra asks, her blue eyes on mine, and her nose scrunched up in the air.

“I—”

“Hopefully focusing on the important things,” my mother interrupts me.

“Which are?” I ask, raising a brow in question.

“Starting a family, of course,” she says, lifting her glass to her lips. “You’re twenty-two and starting to run out of time.”

Vicki’s mother sighs. “I can’t wait until Vicki starts one. She’s twenty-nine now. She should have started her family years ago.” Then she looks at me. “How is Julian?” She calls my brother by his first name. He hates that name.

“Great,” I say, not willing to give this snake any information about him. Just that he is surviving just fine without your daughter.

Then I look at my mother. “I’m not ready for that, Mother. I want to start my business first.” I can’t believe I just said that. I had no intention of telling my mother my plans let alone her judgmental friend too.

She places her glass down on the silver tablecloth. “Business? And just what business is this?” Her tone holds judgment, and I hate how her eyes bore into mine.

My heart pounds in my chest, and my eyes shoot back and forth between the two of them as they wait for my response. My hands get clammy, and my throat goes dry. But Jaycent’s words help me relax. I believe you can change the world. “I want to open my own clothing store,” I say and then clear my throat. I lift my chin, trying to find the confidence I should have.

My mother actually smiles. “O’Kane clothing.” She nods. “I can see that.” Her eyes start to gloss over as she looks off into the distance, and I can already see her mind turning. “Furs and expensive leathers,” she muses out loud.

“I won’t be calling it O’Kane clothing,” I inform her.

Her eyes snap to mine, and they no longer have that look of pure ecstasy to them. “Then what are you going to call it?” she demands.

“You have to capitalize on your name,” Debra says as if I care what she thinks. “The rich and famous will be drawn to it by the name alone.”

I shake my head. “It’s not going to be that high-end. I mean the clothes will be, yes, but I want it to be reasonable where anyone can purchase from my store.”

My mother’s mouth falls open in shock. “I don’t like the idea of just anyone wearing our clothing line.”

Our clothing line? Nowhere in this business will she be involved. I smile as I fill her in on the rest. “I’m going to donate an article of clothing to the homeless shelters here in New York for every item sold.”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head, her dark hair hitting her cheeks. “That is unacceptable.” She lifts her glass to her lips. “Now you want homeless people wearing our name?” She sips her drink then places it back down. “That won’t happen.”

Her and Debra start to discuss my future business when she gets an idea. “We could also do hats. Can you imagine the fortune we’ll make at the Kentucky Derby?” she asks excitedly, and they both laugh.

I slam my hand down on the table, and my mother gasps. “This is my business, not yours,” I say.

Her blue eyes narrow on me. “Is this your friend Ashlyn talking?” Before I can say a word, she turns to Debra. “This Ashlyn girl is blue-collar. I’m sure she is just trying to get expensive things at a cheap price.”

I stand from the table, having enough. “Stop talking about my friend that way,” I shout.

She places her hand on her chest and has the audacity to look offended. “Rebecca ...”

“I go by Becca, Mother. Which you would know if you ever saw me,” I snap.

Her friend sits there, mouth open wide and eyes big. “I’m trying to see you now, but you are acting like a little bitch,” my mother says with clenched teeth. “And I will not have you speak to me that—”

“No. You’re acting like a bitch,” I say, interrupting her, and watch as her lips thin. I lean over the table, placing my hands on it. “I have seen you five times in four years. And I’ve been in town for three days, and you haven’t even bothered to see me. I realize I prefer it that way.” I snatch my purse up, throw it over my shoulder, and then grab my umbrella. I walk out of the door with the biggest smile on my face.

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JAYCENT

“So you’re thinking fifty floors?” Mr. Harrison asks, looking over the blueprints I had printed off for him.

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