A Wife for the Billionaire

By the time I was done with the accursed tile, I was thirty minutes late.

And now, I have to pick through my drawer for something else to wear. And so far, I haven't been lucky.

One of the things that made me stand out during my internship at Bogue was my idea of individuality in fashion. I believe everyone should have a style that's uniquely customized to them. Even when one wears a popular brand like 'Wellington' or 'Frada' or even 'Access', there should be something about the outfit that's simply just you.

Whether it's a piece of jewelry, a pin, a deviation from the original style of a wear, a shade, or even a hairband, something of one's attire should really just speak of his personality.

That would be my main concept when I start my own brand 'U-nique', but with the way this morning was going, that dream appears farfetched.

The irony is that a fashion enthusiast such as myself couldn't even find something decent enough that says "Sofia Blake, a dreamer". That was what my last attire said until Alicia and her cruel daughters reduced it to exactly what I am now, "Sofia Blake, a mess".

'What am I even doing?' I thought as I held up the slightly wrinkled gray crop-shirt and blue high waist jeans. Just looking at it, I could read what it says "Sofia Blake, the minx".

It really wasn't that bad. But it was in no way what one is expected to wear for an interview for the position of a clerk. Unlike Annabel and Mirabel, who had bulging wardrobes, with clothes for every occasion. I was seriously lacking clothes.

Even the few I got after my internship. Alicia collected them before I could cross the threshold.

People wonder why I haven't fled from the house. Believe me, I've tried, but each time Alicia always finds me. As a popular woman, a phone call is usually all it takes. And of course, she also had a collar on my neck.

If I flee and after three days, I haven't been found. She would accuse me of stealing her money and belongings. Then she would let the world know that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, by making known whose daughter I was. That was the collar she had latched to my neck.

I once stayed unfound for two days, daring her to expose me and expose herself. Then I remembered how cruel she can be and what a great actress she was.

One time, she had cried when a group of men denied us entry for a function on the basis that children weren't allowed. She had cried and wailed until they were left with no choice, but to let us in. I remember her wiping away those fake tears and cooling her face back to the stoic mask I was used to.

If it came to her words against mine, I have no doubt who people would believe. After deliberating on all these, I had started trekking back to the house that night. In spite of the cold and how dangerous the streets were, I marched on. Hoping to get home before she decides to act on her threat.

It was around 2 am, when I knocked on the oak doors of the Blake mansion. And it took consistent banging that made my palms and knuckles bleed, for me to be granted entry thirty minutes later.

Time wasn't on my side, I was already 40 minutes late. I should probably give up, but I couldn't. I rather go there and be told that it's over, than decide at home that it was.

Donning the shirt and jeans, I complimented it with the hand-woven straw belt I made. A pair of fading gold dots as earrings. My caramel hair remained loose in curls, running down the length of my back. A light makeup, accentuating my rose cheeks and my cherry lips. And aiming for a touch of decency, I wore one of my coats, the light brown one with a customized belt.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I was beautiful. I have always known that fact, but also found it hard to accept. I mean, what's the use if this is the life I'm subject to live? Lacing my white Nike sneaks, I grabbed my brown handbag and stood up to check how I looked once again. A sneer twisted my face as I took in my appearance. I looked like someone heading to the club and not a business interview.

Waving off that concern, I headed downstairs. After checking everything and getting goodluck wishes from the staff, I left.

The morning air whipped at me. The sky was beautiful with patches of white and gray clouds as the sun made its way to the top. Making my way downtown, I drifted with the smell of baked goods, cakes, bread, buns and other confectioneries. My stomach growled at them as I realized that I hadn't eaten.

I walked by a man in a brown suit, a styrofoam of steaming coffee on one hand and a bagel on the other. And for a second the thought of robbing him took form in my mind as my stomach growled in agreement.

Of course, I couldn't do it no matter how successful my mind made it seem. Hurrying along past people walking their dogs, a couple that can't seem to let each other go even though they must part ways, a school boy with his graffiti skateboard, a trio of girls gossiping on their way to school, convenience stores, malls, bodegas, even Charlie's Vet.

"Sorry", the words left my lips even before I managed to regain my footing.

"Watch where you are going, asshole!" The girl I stumbled into yelled after me.

Deeming her not worthy of my time and attention, I continued on my way neglecting her curse. I didn't actually blame her, with how shitty my life was, hers could be worse.

Pacing and cursing inwardly as the fifth taxi sped across me, I groaned in frustration. I've been here ten minutes already and yet to get a cab. So in estimate from the time I left the house, juggling my way to this spot and ten minutes without a cab. I was about 55 minutes late. Five more minutes and I might just kiss that interview, goodbye.

In a city where private cars could be used for taxi or Uber, I was glad when the black Mercedes car screeched to a halt inches from where I stood. As I approached it, I realized that it looked too fancy for an Uber. It was glossy with tinted windows.

Running a hand on my hair and smelling my breath, I walked, confident that the driver must've taken a look at me and my dressing, and decided to help a beautiful girl with a lift.

I hated doing this. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Hey" I said standing by the back seat door as a man with shades alighted from the driver's seat. His blond hair was faded at the sides.

"Are you looking for someone or something?" He asked, not even looking at me. I was still waiting for him to be a gentleman and come and open the door.

He continued, "Wait, don't tell me that you know me. I mean, I know I got it and all that, but you guys should just lay off my back. Like the fuck!"

His outburst took me by surprise, what was happening? Embarrassment flushed my cheeks as I realized my mistake.

"My bad, I'm sorry" I was saying as he gathered his things. His wallet. His phone. "I thought you had pulled over for me, I…"

Cutting me off as he began pocketing said items, "Does this look like a fucking Uber, what even made you think th…"

He looked… really looked at me and for a while he was speechless. Yeah, I was that gorgeous.

"Hey, um… sorry, I didn't mean to be that harsh. I just didn't realize that you…"

"That I'm drop dead gorgeous" I supplied. "Yeah, too bad you didn't. I know I made a mistake, but you didn't have to be a prick about it. Good day"

"Hey, I'm really sorry. Come back, let me drop you off" He called as I began walking away.

"Go fuck yourself" I retorted.

Waving at the coming cab, life in its cruelty after my embarrassment, decided to let me be as the cab screeched to a halt.