Zoe
I hopped from foot to foot, rocking on my heels. My cheeks ached from the massive grin on my face as imagined telling the kids about my new job, picturing their tiny faces lighting up with pride and joy. Isaac would understand the most what it meant for us. The little ones would just be happy I didn't have to work evenings and weekends.
Other mothers side-eyed me, whispering between themselves as they stole furtive glances at me.
Fuck 'em, it's not like I'm friends with them anyway. All they see when they look at me is the criminal's girlfriend.
The double doors swung open. Children filtered out in all directions running to their parents with grins on their faces. Isaac led the charge, storming towards me with his face scrunched, reddened by rage.
"I hate school," he snarled forcing a letter into my hand. I stuffed it into my purse, refusing to look at it. Nothing was going to spoil my mood, not to
ZoeShit, shit, bollocks and turds.The digital projection alarm in Isaac's room screeched at, throwing the time upon the ceiling in horrifying, flashing neon green.8:05.Bella's dress still needed to be washed and the chance of getting her to agree to wear a different dress was about as high as the chance of winning the lotto without buying a ticket. Harry's shoes were still vanished."Are we late?" Isaac asked rubbing his eyes as he tossed off his duvet."We have nine minutes to leave the house if I want to get to work on time," I moaned diving out of the bed."Okay, you concentrate on you. I'll pack the lunches and make Harry and Bella toast. They can eat it on the way to school. Do you want me to call a cab to the school?""Please," I said as I raced from the room. I snatched Bella's stained dress from the bathroom floor and threw it in the sink pumping three squirts of hand soap on
ZoeA sleek midnight black estate car with blacked-out windows pulled up in front of us. Mabel grabbed my arm as I went to open the door just a well-dressed driver stepped out of the front. He nodded to Mabel, tilting his cap as he smiled. Mabel stepped back as the man walked around the car, opening the passenger door for us and ushering us inside."Holy shi...," I gasped as I slid across the heated leather seat. A sheet of darkened glass separating us from the driver slowly rolled down and I was sure the back seat of the car was bigger than my entire bathroom."Where to?" The driver asked. I stared at Mabel, open-mouthed."Wilshire Boulevard, please, Saks," Mabel said as plainly as if she'd just asked the driver to take us to the local Walmart."Mabel," I whispered, "I don't have any money to put towards this and I need an entire work wardrobe.""Did Mr Elliot give us a budget?" Mabel grinned."I...
Zoe Greyson sat behind his desk tapping away on his computer. He barely looked up when I entered the room stepping carefully around the stupid Turkish rug. "You wanted to see me, Sir?" "Yes," he said finally taking his eyes off the screen in front of him. His eyes widened, he leaned back in his chair, clearing his throat. "I see Mabel managed to sort your image." His tongue flicked out, dampening his soft lips. "Yes, Sir," I said taking the seat opposite him. "Good. That'll be all." "Seriously? That's all you wanted? To make sure I'd bought a dress?" "To ensure Mable had managed to tidy you up enough that you fit the standards I expect for my PA. I wasn't sure she would." "I see," I hissed, pushing the chair out as I stood to leave, spinning on my designer kitten heel. I felt his eyes burning into me as I stormed towards the door. "Watch the rug," he teased. I let the doors
Zoe"Mommy," Bella screeched. My bedroom door flew open. Her tiny form moved so fast it was hard to focus between the bouncing and the sleep deprivation. Thank God it was Saturday. I'd made it through my first week at work by the skin of my teeth. I was fifteen minutes late on Thursday. To say Greyson was unimpressed would be the understatement of the century. I was dragged to his office where he spent 30 minutes berating me and sneering at me before giving me a formal warning for timekeeping. It took every ounce of strength I had not to tell him he could stick his job where the sun didn't shine."I wanna pancakes," Bella chanted, jumping to and fro over me. the bed beneath her creaked and groaned. "Wanna pancakes. Can we have pancakes for breakfast? Isaac make pancakes?""Urgh," I groaned turning to face the alarm clock. Its green light read 9 am. the sun blazed through the flimsy curtains."Mommy," Bella insisted, "can Isa
Greyson 9 am Monday morning came and went with no sign of Zoe. I paced the floor in front of Mabel's desk glancing at my watch and back at the unmoving private elevator. I should have never given Zoe a chance. I should have known this would happen. Zoe was a mess, incapable of organising a party in a brewery. She blamed everything on her kids, on being a single parent. It was all bullshit. My mom was a single parent. She held down a job and studied while raising Stella and me and we were never late for school. We were always pushed to do our best. Zoe appeared to be raising a future felon, a mild-mannered mute and a kid who thinks the world owes him a living and shoes. My mother would never allow anything like that to happen. "She'll be here, Sir," Mabel said. "This job is important to her." "Yeah, it looks like it," I scoffed. The Zoe I remembered from school was never late but then the Zoe I remembered from school would never have had three kids before the age of thirty with n
ZoeI set up three alarms on my phone, all within fifteen minutes of each other. The casserole was still bubbling away in the oven. I tried to block out the low-level bickering between Bella and Harry and carried on making sandwiches for sack lunches for tomorrow. I needed to be organized. I needed to be at work on time. My job and my kids' futures depended on it."It's my turn for the TV, Harry," Bella whined."My cartoon is not finished yet," Harry argued."Yes, it did. You put a different one on.""I didn't like the first one.""Harry, give Bella the TV remote," I called throwing their clothes for tomorrow into the washing machine."No fair," Hary protested. "She got to watch her show.""Give me," Bella screeched, that ear-piercing, migraine-inducing screech that set my teeth on edge. "Give me. Give me. Give me."The walls vibrated as Mrs Carlton from next door hammered on them."
Zoe's POV "I'm hungry," Bella moaned as I slipped my key into the front door lock. "Me too, I'm starving," Harry joined in. Isaac said nothing. He hadn't uttered a word the whole way home. I left all three kids on the sofa in front of the TV, leaving Isaac in charge of the TV remote and made my way to the kitchen. Smoke still lingered in the air. The blackened casserole sat on top of the stove. I grabbed a knife from the sink and poked at the charred remains. It was black the whole way through, even if the kids wouldn't accuse me of trying to poison them if I served it, it was utterly inedible. Ash the whole way through. I sighed throwing the knife back into the sink and headed to the fridge. Four lonely eggs sat on the middle shelf next to a carton of expired yoghurt and half a gallon of milk. An inch of hardened cheddar cheese nestled on the shelf in the door. My stomach rumbled as I tossed the eggs and some grated cheese and milk into a pan, already guessing Bella's reaction.
Greyson's POVI leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers rhythmically against my desk, my eyes fixed on my computer monitor. I'd read the same line of code seven times. Zoe's cruel words rang through my head on a loop crushing my concentration.That Greyson. I scoffed to myself. I am that Greyson. Zoe is the one who had changed. Not me. Zoe was nothing like the woman I had in my head who I'd planned my life with and she was nothing like the smart, feisty, fiery girl who I remembered from school.And how would she even know what I was like in school? She barely spoke to me. A smile and eye contact was the most I could look forward to. I could count on one hand the number of times she spoke to me.I still remembered the very first words she uttered to me. We were eight years old. She was playing tag with a girl called Samantha, a chubby girl with a face full of freckles and large brown eyes. She ducked backwards out of Samantha's reach and tumbled right into me knocking my glasses o
Greyson's POVI leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers rhythmically against my desk, my eyes fixed on my computer monitor. I'd read the same line of code seven times. Zoe's cruel words rang through my head on a loop crushing my concentration.That Greyson. I scoffed to myself. I am that Greyson. Zoe is the one who had changed. Not me. Zoe was nothing like the woman I had in my head who I'd planned my life with and she was nothing like the smart, feisty, fiery girl who I remembered from school.And how would she even know what I was like in school? She barely spoke to me. A smile and eye contact was the most I could look forward to. I could count on one hand the number of times she spoke to me.I still remembered the very first words she uttered to me. We were eight years old. She was playing tag with a girl called Samantha, a chubby girl with a face full of freckles and large brown eyes. She ducked backwards out of Samantha's reach and tumbled right into me knocking my glasses o
Zoe's POV "I'm hungry," Bella moaned as I slipped my key into the front door lock. "Me too, I'm starving," Harry joined in. Isaac said nothing. He hadn't uttered a word the whole way home. I left all three kids on the sofa in front of the TV, leaving Isaac in charge of the TV remote and made my way to the kitchen. Smoke still lingered in the air. The blackened casserole sat on top of the stove. I grabbed a knife from the sink and poked at the charred remains. It was black the whole way through, even if the kids wouldn't accuse me of trying to poison them if I served it, it was utterly inedible. Ash the whole way through. I sighed throwing the knife back into the sink and headed to the fridge. Four lonely eggs sat on the middle shelf next to a carton of expired yoghurt and half a gallon of milk. An inch of hardened cheddar cheese nestled on the shelf in the door. My stomach rumbled as I tossed the eggs and some grated cheese and milk into a pan, already guessing Bella's reaction.
ZoeI set up three alarms on my phone, all within fifteen minutes of each other. The casserole was still bubbling away in the oven. I tried to block out the low-level bickering between Bella and Harry and carried on making sandwiches for sack lunches for tomorrow. I needed to be organized. I needed to be at work on time. My job and my kids' futures depended on it."It's my turn for the TV, Harry," Bella whined."My cartoon is not finished yet," Harry argued."Yes, it did. You put a different one on.""I didn't like the first one.""Harry, give Bella the TV remote," I called throwing their clothes for tomorrow into the washing machine."No fair," Hary protested. "She got to watch her show.""Give me," Bella screeched, that ear-piercing, migraine-inducing screech that set my teeth on edge. "Give me. Give me. Give me."The walls vibrated as Mrs Carlton from next door hammered on them."
Greyson 9 am Monday morning came and went with no sign of Zoe. I paced the floor in front of Mabel's desk glancing at my watch and back at the unmoving private elevator. I should have never given Zoe a chance. I should have known this would happen. Zoe was a mess, incapable of organising a party in a brewery. She blamed everything on her kids, on being a single parent. It was all bullshit. My mom was a single parent. She held down a job and studied while raising Stella and me and we were never late for school. We were always pushed to do our best. Zoe appeared to be raising a future felon, a mild-mannered mute and a kid who thinks the world owes him a living and shoes. My mother would never allow anything like that to happen. "She'll be here, Sir," Mabel said. "This job is important to her." "Yeah, it looks like it," I scoffed. The Zoe I remembered from school was never late but then the Zoe I remembered from school would never have had three kids before the age of thirty with n
Zoe"Mommy," Bella screeched. My bedroom door flew open. Her tiny form moved so fast it was hard to focus between the bouncing and the sleep deprivation. Thank God it was Saturday. I'd made it through my first week at work by the skin of my teeth. I was fifteen minutes late on Thursday. To say Greyson was unimpressed would be the understatement of the century. I was dragged to his office where he spent 30 minutes berating me and sneering at me before giving me a formal warning for timekeeping. It took every ounce of strength I had not to tell him he could stick his job where the sun didn't shine."I wanna pancakes," Bella chanted, jumping to and fro over me. the bed beneath her creaked and groaned. "Wanna pancakes. Can we have pancakes for breakfast? Isaac make pancakes?""Urgh," I groaned turning to face the alarm clock. Its green light read 9 am. the sun blazed through the flimsy curtains."Mommy," Bella insisted, "can Isa
Zoe Greyson sat behind his desk tapping away on his computer. He barely looked up when I entered the room stepping carefully around the stupid Turkish rug. "You wanted to see me, Sir?" "Yes," he said finally taking his eyes off the screen in front of him. His eyes widened, he leaned back in his chair, clearing his throat. "I see Mabel managed to sort your image." His tongue flicked out, dampening his soft lips. "Yes, Sir," I said taking the seat opposite him. "Good. That'll be all." "Seriously? That's all you wanted? To make sure I'd bought a dress?" "To ensure Mable had managed to tidy you up enough that you fit the standards I expect for my PA. I wasn't sure she would." "I see," I hissed, pushing the chair out as I stood to leave, spinning on my designer kitten heel. I felt his eyes burning into me as I stormed towards the door. "Watch the rug," he teased. I let the doors
ZoeA sleek midnight black estate car with blacked-out windows pulled up in front of us. Mabel grabbed my arm as I went to open the door just a well-dressed driver stepped out of the front. He nodded to Mabel, tilting his cap as he smiled. Mabel stepped back as the man walked around the car, opening the passenger door for us and ushering us inside."Holy shi...," I gasped as I slid across the heated leather seat. A sheet of darkened glass separating us from the driver slowly rolled down and I was sure the back seat of the car was bigger than my entire bathroom."Where to?" The driver asked. I stared at Mabel, open-mouthed."Wilshire Boulevard, please, Saks," Mabel said as plainly as if she'd just asked the driver to take us to the local Walmart."Mabel," I whispered, "I don't have any money to put towards this and I need an entire work wardrobe.""Did Mr Elliot give us a budget?" Mabel grinned."I...
ZoeShit, shit, bollocks and turds.The digital projection alarm in Isaac's room screeched at, throwing the time upon the ceiling in horrifying, flashing neon green.8:05.Bella's dress still needed to be washed and the chance of getting her to agree to wear a different dress was about as high as the chance of winning the lotto without buying a ticket. Harry's shoes were still vanished."Are we late?" Isaac asked rubbing his eyes as he tossed off his duvet."We have nine minutes to leave the house if I want to get to work on time," I moaned diving out of the bed."Okay, you concentrate on you. I'll pack the lunches and make Harry and Bella toast. They can eat it on the way to school. Do you want me to call a cab to the school?""Please," I said as I raced from the room. I snatched Bella's stained dress from the bathroom floor and threw it in the sink pumping three squirts of hand soap on
Zoe I hopped from foot to foot, rocking on my heels. My cheeks ached from the massive grin on my face as imagined telling the kids about my new job, picturing their tiny faces lighting up with pride and joy. Isaac would understand the most what it meant for us. The little ones would just be happy I didn't have to work evenings and weekends. Other mothers side-eyed me, whispering between themselves as they stole furtive glances at me. Fuck 'em, it's not like I'm friends with them anyway. All they see when they look at me is the criminal's girlfriend. The double doors swung open. Children filtered out in all directions running to their parents with grins on their faces. Isaac led the charge, storming towards me with his face scrunched, reddened by rage. "I hate school," he snarled forcing a letter into my hand. I stuffed it into my purse, refusing to look at it. Nothing was going to spoil my mood, not to