Chapter One

 

I felt a huge wave of depression as I passed my dad's doorway. My father was busy packing up, and like every other reminder of late it made my stomach roll unhappily. I resented the fact he'd accepted an assignment overseas, and even worse that it was in freaking Saudi Arabia!

My mother had died when I was six, leaving just me and my dad. So the prospect of being orphaned for six months did not please me. That wasn't what was really depressing me, though. What was really depressing me was that I had to go and live with my dad's ex-wife Kathleen.

I had never really liked Kathy. My dad had married her when I was eleven, and I'd found her bossy and arrogant. We'd lived together for three years before they'd split. She lived alone with her daughter Erin, who was okay. I mean, she and I had kind of gotten along, though she was pretty nerdy.

Now, when I was practically almost eighteen, I was going to have to go and live with them for six months! Why couldn't I live on my own? Because we weren't rich, and we lived in a rented apartment which he could give up, and no way was he going to let me stay here alone.

He turned and saw me and I scowled.

"Don't start again, Sierra," he said.

I rolled my eyes and flounced off, doing my best to show, with body language, how indignant I was.

If he'd just waited until next year! I'd be eighteen and maybe working or at least in college! No, he had to go now! I had no money, and he was saving money by cutting a deal with Kathy to put me up.

In fact, I'd be eighteen not long after he left! Not that the magic number impressed him much. He didn't trust me to be alone, and that frustrated me even while, okay, I admit, I'm not the world's most obedient teenager, and yes I like to party, and yes, I like boys, and maybe I have been, on occasion, a little irresponsible.

But living with that... that Nazi! Ugh!

Imagine a woman who is short, very straight-backed, with her jaw permanently clenched. She has short brown hair and glasses, and looks down her nose at you all the time like you're some kind of trashy idiot!

And I had little doubt that Erin was just the same by now. She'd been pretty nerdy and prissy and rules-bound even when she was eleven.

What made it even more frustrating was that I was graduating from high school two days before he left! That was like... freedom, you know? But instead I was going to a gulag in the boondocks! Kathy lived thirty miles south of the city, on the edge of suburbia, which was fine if you had a car. I didn't, and wasn't going to, unless Kathy let me use hers.

Stuck in the boonies with her and Erin! Ugh! What the hell was I supposed to do for six fucking months!?

What was my dad's response? To make it sound like I was going to a resort! Oh, they have a pool, and they're on the river, and there's lots of space to canoe and kayak and there's internet and everything! Big whoop! He also suggested Kathy might get me a part time job at the law firm where she works, which, believe me, did not fill me with any enthusiasm!

I love to party. I LOVE to party! I love dancing! I can easily dance for hours and hours, going from one club to another! It was especially good since I didn't have to pay for any of it! That's what boys are for, after all.

I know, I know, I should be act more modest and want to share the costs and everything, but hey, boys will pay for me, so why shouldn't I accept it? I'm hot and blonde and I have a fabulous body, so I'm getting the benefits. I know I shouldn't take pride in my looks since it's basically just genetics, but should I be embarrassed about them?

It's not like I don't exercise, either, since I hate flab! And, my boobs are a nice size, which means if I don't exercise they're going to start sagging in a few years, and that's like, yucky. I love the effect on guys when they see my boobs! I love it when the top comes off and they stare like a kid in a candy store!

Not that I'm super busty, not really. I mean, I'm a thirty-two D cup, but I'm also five feet ten inches tall, so, while I'm reasonably slender, I don't really look top heavy. But on the other hand, no one is going to mistake me for a guy!

So I have long legs, great legs, and they love to dance! What's a crime about that!? There's no way I could afford all the drinks and cover charges, not to mention the travel by myself. Daddy made an okay living but he was middle class, and not rich. The assignment in the Middle East would, he hoped, pay enough that he could buy a house.

Whoopy, just as I was getting set to leave home anyway! Not yet, though. I needed to either get a good job, or, more likely, go to college. I was pretty sure I'd have the marks for that, and part of the reason for him going to the Middle East was to pay for my tuition.

So it's probably kind of wrong to be bitchy about it, but... I can't help it!

Six months with that awful troll woman! I had done my best to avoid her when we'd lived together before, but now it would be in her house!

And why did she have a house? Because she'd married someone else a year after leaving us, and divorced him too! Only she'd socked him for some kind of big divorce settlement. Fucking lawyers!

Maybe I should be a lawyer, I thought unhappily, except the thought of spending all day, all my life, reading legal documents was enough to make me want to slit my fucking wrists! I had no idea what I wanted to do in life but I knew I didn't want to spend all my time at a desk or a computer.

I liked people. I'm a people person. Maybe I should work in a hotel or restaurant? Except you make shitty wages. I'd worked at restaurants off and on, mostly off, since they kept firing me.

It's not that I'm not a good employee, but I have schedule issues, you know, especially if I'm out late. I mean, if I meet a hot guy what am I supposed to do, tell him goodbye since I have to get up early to work in a coffee shop the next morning?! And what difference does it fucking make anyway if they have to call someone else in? Big deal! Everyone makes such a big deal out of little shit like that!

But when I was eighteen I could work in bars, or at least, in clubs. I could get big tips there. Some of the girls I knew who worked in them, like those sports bars where they wore those short kilts and the tight tank tops, pulled in a ton of tips.

I look great in a short skirt and tight top! And I'm a great flirt! I knew I would make a lot of money!

Were there sports bars out in the boonies? Probably, but probably they didn't have guys who made much money going to them so there wouldn't be great tips. Probably the customers would be farmers!

And clubs! Forget about it! There weren't any clubs out there! Where was I supposed to dance!?

Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! It was going to be a nightmare!

Part of why I was sulking was because I didn't really have much of an argument. I mean, what else was I supposed to propose? He'd already given up the lease, so I couldn't stay here. I had no money so I couldn't rent a place myself. I had some friends I could stay with, but not for six months!

So I was content to sulk in order to demonstrate how unhappy I was. I knew it wouldn't change anything, but I knew he wouldn't like it, and it served him right!

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