The Billionaire's Pet - Forbidden Fun

I have a good cry and feel a bit better afterwards. It still doesn’t help the situation at hand, but I feel a little less empty now. I walk to the bathroom to quickly shower and brush my teeth before climbing into bed. But it’s hard to fall asleep with this hanging over my head.

Meanwhile, Randy sleeps like a log. There’s a steady stream of snoring coming from his room, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, my eyes are wide open as I stare at the ceiling and try to calm my thoughts. Sadly, my mind spins out of control, and the silent tears start again. A hot trail runs from the corner of my eye and down my cheek vertically before making a wet spot on the pillow. This is my life, and I can’t bear the thought of living like this forever.

2

Jessalyn

* * *

The next morning, I wake Randy up for our meeting with management. I make him a good breakfast of eggs and pancakes to soak up all the beer he drank last night, and try to get him to dress in something other than his saggy work pants and crumpled work shirt. Sadly, he doesn’t listen, and looks like a gaunt scarecrow with dirt under his fingernails and an unshaven chin.

I wear a nice red skirt and white blouse in hopes of making a good impression, but I also pack my work uniform in my bag so that I can get to my shift afterwards. Purcell Development, the company that runs our trailer park, has an office in town about ten minutes away from the diner, so it shouldn’t be too hard to get to work. On our way to the meeting, I look over at Daddy in his truck and beg him to let me do the talking at the meeting. It’s our only chance at getting the extension we need.

“What, you don’t think I’m capable?” Randy asks. I can detect the hurt in his voice. I roll my eyes.

“Dad, calm down. I just think I’ll have a better shot at getting an extension. You know, being a young girl and all,” I say, somewhat truthfully.

After all, Randy doesn’t know how to talk reasonably to others or how to talk to others in general, come to think of it. If we have any chance of getting the extension, it falls on me, and if my dad opens his mouth, who knows what will happen? They might kick us out on the spot if he says something really stupid.

Once we pull into the parking lot of Purcell, my nerves increase by a million. I’m blown away by the building. Located in a nicer section of town, the office is a gorgeous white stone building with a dark grey roof and an imposing sign out front. The lawn is a perfect shade of brilliant green with fresh mown stripes and all of the cars parked in the lot appear to be luxury sedans. I gulp at how corporate the building looks. I can only imagine the kind of people I’m about to encounter.

With Randy by my side, we walk into the building where a lady in her mid-fifties shoots us a tight smile at her neat reception desk. We’re obviously the last people she wants to help today. I watch as her eyes pass over my dad with a small grimace before settling on me.

“How may I help you?” she asks in a barely courteous tone. I look past it and try to appear confident for my twenty-two years of age.

“We’re here to speak with management about a late notice. My father called this morning to make an appointment.”

“Name?” the lady asks.

I clear my throat, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

“His name or mine?”

She shoots a look at Randy.

“His.”

I take a deep breath.

“My father’s name is Randy Lane, and I’m Jessalyn Lane, his daughter.”

The woman, whose name is ‘Janice’ according to her name tag, types at her computer before smiling back at me.

“Oh yes, I see your appointment here, Miss Lane. Just for the record, could you specify where you live? Purcell Development owns many properties,” she says in a sugary sweet voice. I grit my teeth and smile.

“At the Sunrise Residence Park on the west side of town.”

She licks her lips nastily.

“Oh I see. Sunrise, the trailer park?”

I grit my teeth and smile again.

“Yes, the trailer park.”

She goes back to her computer and clacks loudly on the keyboard while studying the screen.

“I’m sorry, Miss Lane, but the person who usually handles Sunrise is out today. There’s been a grievous error, and again, I’m sorry for this mix-up. Would you like to leave a message?”

What I’d like to do is to slap her across the face, but I merely smile tightly again.

“Is there someone else we could see then? Rent is due today, and I’d like to talk to management about it.”