Chapter 1 Bad Luck
[Lilah’s POV]
I stare up in disbelief, watching as flames and smoke slowly trickle from the windows of my apartment while the sound of sirens echoes around me.
“They say it was an electrical thing.”
“It spread so fast they had trouble containing it.”
“Good thing no one got hurt.”
The mutterings of those around me drift in and out while I try to make sense of what is happening.
I mean, I understood what was happening.
My home was gone. Burned completely because of an electrical malfunction.
But what the hell was this timing?
How was it possible that a fire would break out only a few days after my douchebag of a boyfriend dumped me for his childhood sweetheart?
Fuck.
Did I do something to piss off the universe?
Was that why all of this was happening at once?
Well, they said that bad luck comes in threes, so what exactly would be the third thing?
As this thought crosses my mind, my phone starts to ring, and I immediately wish that I didn’t utter such a fucking thing, even if it was internally.
Sighing, I pull my phone from my pocket and take in the name on the screen.
“Now what?” I mutter, swiping the answer and bringing the phone to my ear. “Chief.”
“LILAH, YOU INCOMPETENT IDIOT!”
Flinching, I can’t help but wonder what reasoning this bastard has for doing this.
“What is it?” I huff. “For you to call me so late and even speak to me like that. What the hell have I done now?”
For a moment, the chief doesn’t speak while I’m certain he works to control his anger, and when I hear a huff of disgust, I brace myself for what is coming.
“The company is being sued due to the article that you released.”
“Article,” I repeat, considering. “And what exactly is it about that article that is sueworthy?”
This wasn’t the first time that some big hotshot threatened to sue us over publishing their dirty deeds, so why was the chief so up in arms now?
Since graduating from college with a journalism degree, I have worked for a magazine company that mostly featured head executives doing dirty deeds.
It was basically within the job description that you would risk being sued for posting things. So, why the hell was the chief so fucking pissed now?
Ugh. I didn’t have time to worry about such things, not when my life was essentially falling apart right in fucking front of me.
“Anyway, I don’t really have the time to talk about work. You see…”
“DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO RUN AWAY WHEN YOU ARE THE REASON THIS IS HAPPENING! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO SEND YOU TO THAT FUCKING COMPANY TO BEG FOR FORGIVENESS!”
“Not happening,” I tell him. “And since I have you here, I guess I should go ahead and tell you that I’m going to be out of work for a bit.”
I don’t wait for a response before I hang up and turn my attention back to the apartment building in front of me.
“What am I going to do now?” I sigh, realizing that I was essentially homeless and jobless. “This is the worst.”
Letting out a grumble of frustration, I pull out my phone and start to scroll through numbers until I reach one that leaves me feeling uneasy.
How long had it been since I called this person?
Weeks?
Months?
Something like that, and it was all because of my own petty reasoning.
It wasn’t like she did anything per se except move on too damn quickly after my father’s death, but I mean, what exactly did I expect her to do?
Live miserably?
Stay single forever?
No.
Rationally, I knew that she would eventually find someone else and then she would move on with that someone else, but she could have at least waited about a year or two. Wasn’t that usually how it worked?
Sighing, I stare at the name and number while a mental war starts waging within me.
Should I call her?
Should I not call her?
But then what exactly was I going to do while searching for a new place to live and a new job?
I wasn’t left with many options since I didn’t have many friends, and the ones I had had their own families.
“Fuck it,” I growl, hitting the call button before I can really overthink things. “Just fucking do it.”
Letting out the breath that I didn’t realize I was holding, I wait while the phone rings once, twice, three times, and then it connects, but the voice that greets me isn’t the one that I was expecting.
“Hello?”
The voice is low, a rumble honestly, but I know that it is the voice of the man that I hated more than anything.
“Who is this?”
Flinching, I find myself wondering if my mother deleted my number after our argument at her wedding.
I mean, if she did, I could understand why she would do that, but still, I was her daughter; could she really forget me that easily?
“Hello?”
The man repeats, making me realize I hadn’t said a thing.
“Who the hell is this?”
“Lilah.”
Hissing, I try to ignore the slight crack in my voice as I speak, and I want to just hang up and forget that I even called.
“Lilah,” the man repeats, and for a moment I wonder if he even realizes that his wife had a family before him. “Lilah,” he repeats, my name rolling off his tongue while he tests it out like it is foreign or something. “Oh, you’re Donna’s daughter.”
“Bingo,” I respond, my voice more even. “Could you maybe go get her? There’s something I need to say.”
“Sure,” he rumbles, and then I hear the sound of movement on the other end, followed by the two talking, and then I hear my mother’s breath on the other line.
“Sweetie?” She says, and I feel the ice around my heart crumbling. “You’ve finally called me.”
“Yeah,” I sigh, though I feel bad that I called due to such things. “I’m sorry for the silence; I just…” I trail off, trying to come up with a reason that wouldn’t sound selfish. “I just needed some time to think.”
“Mmmmm, and have you managed to sort things?”
“Kind of,” I say slowly. More like the universe has made me settle things. I add silently. “And I actually wanted to ask you something.”
“Go ahead,” she responds, her voice filled with relief. “Please don’t hesitate to ask me anything.”
“Can I stay with you while I sort out some things?”
