A Not-So-Simple Life by Melody Carlson Read Free Book Online

Hollywood Boulevard. Seriously, I felt like I’d lost it.
    Not that it stopped me. With visions of earning my own money, getting my own car—hopefully a hybrid—and having my own place to live, and finally being free from Shannon, I was a driven woman! And as I marched down Rodeo Drive, I felt like I could even eat meat. Okay, that’s probably an exaggeration. But I was determined, ready to do whatever it took to get myself to a better place.
    At 10:25 I stopped at the same bench where I’d changed my shoes yesterday, and making sure that Vivian was nowhere in sight, I quickly slipped on the Prada slides, trying to ignore the soft strips of brown suede (and that some poor cow had sacrificed itself for these stupid shoes). Then after pausing to catch my breath and center myself, I carefully proceeded to the boutique. I hadn’t considered the height of these wedge heels. They must be more than four inches, which probably makes me about six feet tall. But I was thinking, Hey, I may be only fifteen, but at least I’m taller than Vivianand Em. Then I reminded myself to watch my step on those Oriental carpets. Balance, it’s all about balance.
    “Vivian said to go into her office,” Em said as soon as I came in. “It’s the red door back there.”
    So watching my step, I went through a small back room and knocked on a shiny red door, then cautiously opened it after I heard a female voice calling, “Come in.”
    “Hello?” I peered in to see a shiny black enamel desk offset by a couple of red leather chairs. In one corner was an Asian folding screen of black silk with a red embroidered dragon on it. But as far as I could see, no one was there. “Hello…”
    “Just. Sit. Down,” called a rather uptight-sounding voice from behind the screen. I assumed it belonged to Vivian.
    So I sat in a leather chair and waited until she finally emerged wearing a fitted sleeveless dress with a bright geometric pattern. “Help me with this zipper,” she commanded as she turned her back to me.
    I hurried to get up and zip the snug dress. “That’s pretty,” I said, although I actually thought it was pretty ugly. Hypocrite. Liar. Phony.
    She turned and held out her arms as if to model it. “It’s a new design from What Comes Around Goes Around.”
    Without batting an eyelash, I said, “I thought so.” Another lie. “Same as my blouse.”
    She narrowed her eyes, as if to scrutinize me, then finally nodded. “Very nice.” She pointed to a chair. “Now sit.”
    Feeling like a trained dog, I sat.
    “Okay, Maya, let’s get right to it. You’re only fifteen. Do you have a work permit?”
    “Well, no…”
    “And you’re really Nick Stark’s daughter…” She said this more like a statement than a question, so I simply waited. “I know this for a fact because I did some checking on you.”
    “Oh…”
    “My question is, why does Nick Stark’s daughter want to work here?”
    I forced a smile. “I thought it would be fun. And good experience. I want to learn more about fashion.” Lies. Lies. Lies.
    “Well, you seem smart. And I’ve been a Nick Stark fan since the eighties.”
    I smiled with a bit more confidence. “I’m a hard worker.”
    She looked doubtful. “Well, you’re a pretty girl. And very fashionable. I’m willing to give you a try.” Then she handed me another form. “That’s for a work permit. Get it taken care of, and I’ll see how you do.”
    “You mean I’m hired?”
    “Em will train you. I’d like you to start tomorrow if you can get your work permit. I’m expecting a busy weekend.”
    “Tomorrow?” I blinked in surprise.
    “Are you telling me you don’t work on Saturdays?”
    “No, that’s not what I meant.”
    “Because I don’t need any princesses working for me,Maya. Just because you have a famous father doesn’t mean I want you to go around here acting like Paris Hilton.”
    “No, of course not.”
    “We open at ten.”
    “Is that when I’m supposed to be