Male Figure

 "So this is where you are hiding? Your mother is looking for you."

 Jackie froze, hearing the familiar bass echoing in the room. It was him, the best friend.

"What do you want?" she asked, cocking her head slightly. She got up and thanked the gods above for her A****n build but the mammoth man still towered over her.

 "I said your mother is looking for you. Weren't you listening?" Richard repeated, posing at the entrance, his ankle on his bent leg. How he could achieve that pose with his bulk was a mystery to Jackie.

 "Well, you can go tell her that I'm in here and I will be here for a while." After replying, she ignored his existence and sat back in place. Richard was conflicted: he had lied. Regina was too preoccupied with her guests and sympathizers to worry about the whereabouts of her youngest daughter. He just wanted her to leave so he could sit and think about all Petals' lawyers had said to him the night before:

 "Peter is dead and his funeral is tomorrow. Get down here for there is a lot to discuss concerning Petals." 

 When Petals had been established twenty years ago, Richard had wanted no hand in the decision making. He had relinquished that right to Pete, happy to visit every once in a while but now that Peter was gone...

 "Why are you still here?" Jackie asked, rudely. She was playing with a ball pen on a piece of paper to while away time. She didn't care for unwanted company. 

 "Don't be rude. Do you even know who I am?" Richard hoped she had forgotten that shameful night when he had lost his head. Jackie stared at him with her smoky eyes and got up suddenly to stand before him.

 "You are Mr Richard Ferdinand Rossi, second son of the fifteenth generation of the Rossi dynasty. Born to Mabel and Jeremiah Rossi, surviving heir of the Rossi inheritance and co-owner of Petals Cosmetics and Pharmaceuticals, never married, no relationships that lasted more than a month, and a hopeless playboy. Shocked? I do my homework detailedly. Can you leave now?"

 Richard was beyond shocked; he was dumpfounded. He had never had his life read to him like a biography. She was clearly angry with him and she looked the part.

 "Jacqueline, I am so sorry."

 "For what exactly? For almost missing this funeral? For ignoring all the invitation cards he sent to you over the years? For abandoning the company that you both put together on his shoulders alone? Or," she paused and dabbed a finger at his chest, tilting her head backwards to meet his eyes, "for that night on the roof?"

 His eyes glazed over at the mention of that memory. She had not forgotten, f**k!

 "I never forget a face or a name as yours."

 "That was a mistake, Jacqueline. I was under the influence and I didn't know what I was doing or who was with," Richard explained, pushing her finger off him.

 "But immediately you found out, I became trash, a common whore," Jackie uttered bitterly.

 "Stop it! What was I supposed to do? You were my best friend's little girl and it would have been wrong of me to take advantage of you. You know that," Richard spat out, pinching his forehead in frustration.

 "And what am I now?" 

 He didn't get a chance to reply when a lanky boy pushed the door open.

 "Oops, I'm sorry for interrupting whatever this is but I was wondering where I could get something to eat, Jacqs. Ginny is awake too and that dope shit got me ravished."

 Richard eyed the youngster suspiciously, wondering how much he had heard. He hated the nickname he had called her by like she was some pack rat.

 "Let's go, Ronnie," Jackie said and pulled the lanky boy with her. Was he her boyfriend? Richard pondered. He looked like he did drugs and smoked ten packs a day. He was not good enough for Jacqueline. And you are? his conscience pricked him. He closed the door behind them and got down to business. It didn't take Richard long to find the binder he was looking for. Peter was so obvious about the location anyways. Suddenly, the sound of loud music blaring from a room in the house leaked into the study. The hard rock was noisy with a lot of guitars and Regina would not be pleased.

 He stepped out of the study, fist clenched around the binder. He could guess where the music was coming from but he would let Gina handle this one. She was the parent, not him. Minutes after these thoughts left his mind, Regina walked up to him as restless as a mother hen.

 "Do you hear this ruckus as I do? My guests are beginning to ask questions. I can't be everywhere right now. Please help me tell them to turn it down or turn it off."

 Richard was taken aback. He was nobody's errand boy. "Why not send Kristin instead? I have no authority in this house and you know it. Don't make me out to be someone I'm not."

 Regina did not expect such a response from him. She was used to always getting whatever she wanted. She was determined to not let Jacqueline ruin her get together but deep down, she was afraid of her youngest daughter. Jacqueline was unpredictable, unstable and irrational. Her head ruled her heart and that would have proved to be an excellent discipline on her part if she only ever put it to good use. Instead, she moved with the wrong crowd: misfits, riff-raffs, the less privileged and loafers. Sometimes, she wondered where she had gone wrong in raising Jacqueline.

 "Kristin is helping out in my absence......"

 "Which gives you enough time to hop into that room and put an end to the noise yourself," Richard interrupted, smirking at his logic.

 Regina was at crossroads: she could either ignore Jacqueline's juvenile delinquency and go ahead with her get-together or she could march into that room, unplug the sound systems and damn the consequences. Either way, her guests would leave because, plan A would allow them hear the offensive punk rock and plan B would only result in provoking Jacqueline further.

 "Please, Richard. You are a male figure. She would listen to you," Regina pleaded, her palms clasped together in petition. Most unlikely, Richard said under his breath but Regina was almost in tears. He had to help, for Pete.

 "Okay, I'll bite. Where is this room of hers?"

 "Upstairs, the first room on your right. You can't miss it. It says Jacq-Jacq boldly in black paint on the door. Thanks, Rich. I owe you one." 

 She rose on her toes and embossed a kiss on his cheeks. The clacking of her heels were the last he heard of her. Richard stared up the stairway, imagining what Jackie and her street friends were up to. He ran up as quickly as his stamina would permit him and made a right turn. The music was getting louder meaning that he was in the right place. He thought of knocking but that would only give her an option not to answer. He pushed the door open.