Page 3 of Mine, Forever

“Oh cool. I didn’t know you had a kid.”

“I guess it’s been a while, huh? Yeah, she’s fifteen now. Can hardly believe it. You got kids yet?”

I shook my head.

“Good, you’re a smart one. Don’t have ‘em. I mean it. They’re nothin’ but money-grabbing whingers.”

Allegra came out from the back, earphones plugged in and a cell in her hand. She didn’t even look up, just stopped at the end of the bar. Darla rolled her eyes and stormed toward her, who was the spitting image of her mother at that age, to yank the plugs out of her ears.

“Ow!”

“Get to work, Allegra. This is your cousin, Ebony. She’s starting today.”

“Fine! Okay… geez. Did you have to pull the plugs out of my ears?”

“Yes, because you’re behaving like a brat. Now get to work. We open in an hour.”

“Come on,” Allegra grumbled toward me.

I followed Allegra around carrying cutlery and place settings. She spoke about the process of setting up and cleaning the table after a party had left. Next, we moved on to clearing the plates out of the washers and stacking them on the kitchen shelves for the chefs’ easy access. I realized as she helped me through the setup process that she wasn’t so bad. Her ambition was to become a makeup artist in Hollywood. I told her it was a cool dream and she should go for it.Anything to get out of this dump of a town.Honestly, I wished I had dreams like that when I was her age, maybe then I wouldn’t have gone down the path I had chosen—the path that forced me to work for my mother’s brother without a hope in hell of getting away anytime soon.

“Five minutes before we open,” Allegra said. “We need to put our aprons on and organize ourselves. Come on.”

I followed her, but I stopped when Uncle Giordano call out my name. Turning around, I saw him heading toward me. He looked different from the uncle I remembered. His black hair was showing gray along his temples, which was honestly a little worrying considering his mid-thirties’ age, and he had the same devilish stare I’d always hated as a kid.

“Uncle Giordano.”

“Giordy, please,” he said, wrapping me in his arms. “We’re not formal here. How have you been?”

“Great.”

Sarcasm at its finest, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just smiled and looked me up and down. “It’s a shame you didn’t turn out like your sisters. You could have a career in modeling like them.”

I fought to keep my fists open and relaxed. It was the same old speech I’d heard since I was a young teen—from everyone—including my beloved mother, Adora-Lee.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, they’re both thin with huge… assets.”

He waggled his eyebrows at me making me feel slightly nauseous. I had a generous chest size, but I didn’t flaunt it like my sisters did. They both had been accepted into Bridget Amorosi’s Modeling School at the age of thirteen and never looked back. I, on the other hand, began my life of shoplifting and breaking into cars not to mention my pharmaceutical robberies. I’d only gotten out of prison when I was twenty-three, and since then it’s been almost impossible to find my feet. I didn’t speak to my sisters, and I preferred not to speak to my mother unless I couldn’t help it.

“Anyway…” he said, patting me on the back, “… you better get changed to start your shift. I’m looking forward to you being here. We’ll even see if Allegra can do something about your looks with that makeup crap she plays with.”

And… another sucker punch to the gut.

Luckily, I was desensitized to insults about my looks by now. I took off as fast as my legs would carry me and helped Allegra with her hair before she wrapped a black apron around my waist. Dropping the notebook into the front pocket of my apron, I put the pencil in my hair and waited with Allegra for our shift to start. She didn’t say anything. I tried to understand why she wore so much makeup as she seemed attractive to me before she had applied copious amounts of it to her face. Then again, I never understand why people put makeup on.

“Why don’t you take a picture?” she asked, looking up from her cell.

“Sorry… was just wondering why you wear so much makeup?”

“It lets me hide,” she replied, honestly. “Why do they make fun of your looks so much? You aren’t ugly.”

“My sisters are the pretty ones. I’m used to it.”

“Do you want me to help? I can give you a makeover?”

“Yeah, maybe next week or somethin’.”

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