Page 1 of Jaime's Story

Prologue

Jaime

I let out a yawn as I leave the office, the sky nearly dark as September fades into October. It’ll be four months next week since I started after graduating with my degree in graphic design, but I love it. Even on the long days like today when we’re racing to get things done or making changes, so the bosses will like the ads more.

I wasn’t sure about taking a job here versus looking for something at a marketing firm or even setting up my own design business online, but along with art, I really like learning and using new programs on the computer so what better place to work than at a business that creates computer programs and markets them to the entire globe? I love getting to see the new programs before the public does and coming up with creative designs definitely fits the bill.

I know a few of my new co-workers think I just got the job because of my last name. In town, it carries a lot of weight, but one of my professors recommended me for the position. She showed my new boss the work I’d done for school, and he called me for an interview without even knowing my last name, let alone that I was one of those Cartwrights.

It’s not like I have to work so being the lowest paid since I’m the newest, while also getting the most thrown my way, doesn’t bother me too much. The snarky comments and messages they’ve been sending since I started really got to me at first, especially when they didn’t stop after I told them to in the team chat, but now, I just ignore them.

I might be quiet, but I do know how to stick up for myself thanks to my parents and siblings if I don’t like what’s happening. Sure, I don’t always have to do it when I’m with them. Especially my younger sister Jillian because she’s a bit of a bulldog if someone tries to bully me. But I can easily do it when I’m on my own.

I haven’t bothered reporting the group to my boss yet. Mostly, I think they’re just jealous that my individual design was chosen soon after I started for a new ad over theirs and they’re just angry. Maybe when I’ve been here a bit longer they’ll see I just want to do my job—the thing I love to do and am actually good at—and let me be instead of always ignoring me in meetings. If it gets too bad then I’ll say something, but for now, ignoring them seems to be working okay.

I grab my keys out of my bag but stop when I hear something rattle near the trashcan that’s next to the little picnic area set up behind the building. There’s been some teenagers loitering around here recently, making a mess trying to do tricks with skateboards off the tables and I don’t want to deal with that. I’d much prefer that it’s just a dog or some hungry animal.

A flash of lightning fills the sky while a deep rumble of thunder brings a yelp from someone over by the trashcan. No one gets up though and I can’t just leave. If they had somewhere to go, they definitely wouldn’t be hanging around here when it’s about to storm.

I move around the bin cautiously, holding up a hand when a girl jumps a bit seeing me appear. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. We’re supposed to get a pretty big storm tonight, you don’t want to be out in it. Is there anywhere I can take you? A friend’s maybe?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” she says but I know that’s not true. Her eyes speak volumes. Louder than anything Maddie or even Carly’s ever did.

Honestly, she reminds me a lot of how Natalie looked until the police killed her ex-boyfriend earlier this summer. He was stalking and threatening her, pulled the trigger of a gun pointed at my brother Jamison—who thank god, was wearing a bullet-proof vest—so it didn’t do more than just bruise him a bit.

“I don’t like calling people liars but there’s clearly something wrong,” I start gently, watching her closely as she grips her backpack tight. “So how about this? I can either call the police to come down to help you find somewhere that’s safe to stay tonight, or…you can come home with me and tell my mom all about whatever’s going on. She’s pretty great, raised thirteen of us so she’s got a lot of practice and patience,” I add holding back a smile as the girl’s eyes widen in surprise at that news.

It’s a common reaction so I’m used to it. I love being part of a big family, having so many people that you can turn to or talk to when you need advice or help. This girl clearly doesn’t have that and I’m pretty sure she’s not much older than eighteen—if even that.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard of my family but my mom’s Annie Cartwright,” I go on with when she doesn’t try to run, just continues to sit there warily watching me. “She’s the major driving force behind the Cartwright Safe Homes Foundation. I’m sure if you tell her what’s going on, she can find you a spot somewhere that’s a lot safer than sleeping on the street, especially in a major storm.”

“She won’t call my parents?” the girl asks, jumping a bit again when another loud clash of thunder sounds.

“Not if you’re not safe with them,” I assure her, letting out a quick breath of relief when she nods, pushing herself up off the ground, her bag still clutched tightly in her hands. “I’m Jaime by the way.”

“Maia,” she says giving me a shy, tight smile.

“I’m right over here,” I tell her, heading towards my car and she thankfully follows without any argument.

The drive to the house takes a good twenty-five minutes and it’s a relief to see the huge exterior of the place as the lightning strikes start coming faster and faster. This storm is going to be brutal and since I’ve never been a fan of driving, get one of the others to do it for me as much as possible, I’m glad to be home.

“This is your house?” Maia asks, a gasp falling from her lips as she stares at the growing magnificence in front of us. I have to admit, even seeing it pretty much every day of my life, it still takes my breath away with what my father created—and I don’t just mean the building. The home he’s given us is amazing.

“This is home.” I give her a grin as I pull into the garage. He had an extra-large garage built off to the side of the house for the others to use when they come over, especially if we’re having an event at the house on top of it. There’s also a game room at the back of the garage, with some old-school arcade machines, including skee-ball—which is probably my favorite of them, a foosball table, an air hockey table, and a regular pool table. My older nieces and nephews love coming out here to play when we have family dinners.

Which is every week.

Though not everyone can come every week, so Mom has us do one mandatory one a month to celebrate the birthday boys and girls as a family, as well as all the anniversaries, but we definitely have more birthdays than anniversaries. It lets whoever wants them to still have their own parties, most of which are thrown by my older sister Jasmine, with their friends then without a bunch of family butting in.

Jillian’s car is already in the garage directly connected to the house and I pull in next to hers. Mom and Dad’s every day cars and Dad’s fancier Bentley he uses for when they go to events draw Maia’s attention and her eyes grow even bigger. Especially since parked next to it is Mom’s Jeep. She blushes any time Dad gets her near it and that is what I want from a relationship. Almost forty-two years together and they’re amazingly still in love.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I tell her as her face tightens when I hold open the door into the house for her. “Mom will make sure of it.”

She gives me a little nod and that tight smile again, and I move through the house in search of my parents. Ninety-nine percent of the time they’re together, especially with just me and Jillian living at home anymore.

All of our older sisters are married with kids of their own. Beyond me and Jillian, only our brothers—who are all older than us—Joe, Jordan, and Jeffery aren’t married.

Joe just turned thirty-three in May, Jordan will be twenty-seven in November, and Jeffery will be twenty-five in February. Honestly out of them, I don’t have a clue which one will marry last.

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