Petty Rage by Thandiwe Mpofu

Chapter 13

KIM

Past

ME:I watched a movie today.

Noah: So fucking what?

ME:I saw your mother in it.

Noah: …

ME:How is your mother like?

Noah:She told me she met you at the hospital so you already what she’s like. Now, fucking delete my number and FUCK OFF!

Present

“Kim Possible in the flesh,” she says slowly, a smile on her face. Then her eyes widen in delight as she looks at my hair. “You dyed your hair! I love your natural blonde tresses but this lavender grey you have going on is gorgeous! Brings out your beautiful grey eyes.”

I blink several times, like a cartoon character as I stare at the woman across the desk from me.

I’m tongue-tied, and I bet I look fucking stupid too.

I don’t even know what to say, but there’s one thing I know for damn sure.

This is real.

There’s no way my mind could conjure up the full, brazen beauty of this woman in my dreams or thoughts… a beauty that she passed down to one other person. Her son.

“I…” I stutter, blinking at her repeatedly she probably thinks I’m stupid or have some cringey tic or something. “Mrs. Montreal?”

“Oh no, dear,” Noah’s mother says softly, the sultry lilt in her voice so freaking impressive, I envy it. “It’s Christina. Mrs. Montreal is my late mother-in-law, may she rot in hell.”

Well then. Bad in-law relationships. And I’m the bitch who hurt her son even when he broke me first. This is going to be nerve-wrecking.

“Of course,” I whisper.

“Pick your jaw up, dear,” she says, looking amused as fuck as she looks at me.

I watch, stunned and frozen in my seat as she elegantly pushes her chair closer to the desk, her gaze set on me.

She plants her elbows on the desk, her ringed fingers interlocking just before she rests her delicate chin on them, scrutinizing me.

“Hello, Kimberly.”

My God.

I’ve only ever seen Noah’s beautiful super star, ex-actress mother twice, and both of those times, I had the distinct feeling that she didn’t like me. But I’ve never been alone with her like this.

“Uh, hello.”

“Don’t be so frightened. It’s just me perched up on my high and mighty throne when I’m just a coward,” she says sweetly, but all I can do is wince.

“I… I wasn’t expecting to see… I didn’t know it was…” I stutter. Shit! I just insulted her and told her she’s all high and mighty. I mean, it’s true but I... fuck! “I didn’t mean to…”

“My God are you stunningly beautiful,” she says, cutting my nervous, embarrassing meltdown.

“I… thank you,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry. You’re not a coward.” Your son is though.

“And my high and mighty throne?” She raises an eyebrow.

If I was someone else who wasn’t raised in the harshest, most depraved places on earth, maybe I would’ve been sweating bullets, watching my words when responding to the woman who potentially holds the keys to my sister’s future.

But I’m simply not that person.

I realize this the split second after my next words leave my mouth.

“You rule it quite well. Authority becomes you, Christina.”

I expect her to go all dark and offended, but instead, her beautiful face transforms into this radiant smile that reminds me of the smile Noah gave me when we first met… all innocent and kinda excited.

“Oh my dear, I see what the hype is about you,” she says cheerfully, her eyes sparkling.

“Hype?”

“Oh yes! It’s not every day you hear a name not just once but over and over again in both awe and incredible hate.” Oh God, who is she talking about? My record isn’t exactly clean. I hurt a lot of people here. “You, my dear, are honest to a fault and that is why you’re the one.”

I’m the one all right.

The one who lied, manipulated and hurt her son and his close friends all for a man who terrorized and devastated my best friend and her man when they were nothing but kids, my own fucked up history with him notwithstanding.

Feeling almost out of sorts, I just stare at her, my jaw clenched shut so I don’t repeat her words like a parrot and show her how fucking stupid I feel at the moment.

“I’m sorry, I think there must be some kind of mistake,” I mutter as I stand up, the urge to run away as far as possible thrumming in my veins. “I came with my little sister for the scholarship she received from this school.”

“Yes, I know. I’m the one who authorized the scholarship.”

I stop dead in my tracks.

I’m pretty sure my heart isn’t working at all now.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh dear, you’re quite excused, but you and I have much to discuss. Why don’t you take a seat?”

I don’t move a muscle.

“I don’t think I can…”

“My dear, I think this conversation started off on the right note, don’t you?” she says, a small smile still on her face like a reflex but her eyes, they hardened the moment I stood up to leave with what was probably a lame excuse to her.

I nod, feeling uncertain.

“Good. So why don’t we continue with that same level of bluntness and decisive action to get us both what we want.”

That shocks me.

“Are you the principal?”

“Oh no,” she says with a soft chuckle. “I’m just one of the owners.”

Of course, she is.

Two years ago, I arrived in Westbrook Blues not knowing what to think or what to expect but one thing was clear, this wealthy small town full of secrets and shadows was ruled by four families. The Montreals were one of them.

“I… I don’t understand,” I mutter. “My sister was here for an interview to get a scholarship to attend the school, but Mrs. Cho said…”

“Mrs. Cho told you what I told her to tell you,” she says calmly. “I wanted to talk to you directly.”

“But my sister—” I trail off, carefully studying her.

“Your sister is already part of the school. Same goes for your youngest sister, Casey, if you so decide.”

That takes me aback. “Excuse me?” How does she know my sister’s name?

I watch as Christina Montreal pulls back, her eyes glinting with calculation and something else that seems warm, but I don’t know her enough to assume that.

In this moment, she looks so much like her son—who I haven’t seen since the night we took sledgehammers to our fucking hearts—that my soul cracks with the pain.

“I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”

“What I’m saying is, if you play your cards right, Miss Allory, both your sisters will have a great education at the finest institutions this world will ever know.”

“Institutions?”

“From now to high school to college and even graduate school because let’s face it, dear, your sisters are intelligent and will definitely go far.”

“That’s the dream. That’s what I want for them.”

Not this… stressful life where I have to work several jobs every single day just to keep food on the table and clothes on our backs.

Forget dreams of getting an education or even pursuing my own dreams. But I’ll do what I have to do for those rascals.

“You know, young people your age don’t really understand what it means to bear the weight of responsibility like you’re doing,” Mrs. Montreal says. “Some of them don’t realize what it feels like to have little humans depending on you for everything.”

“Well, they are my sisters. They are my entire life.”

“Exactly,” she says softly. “You’d do anything for them.”

I remain silent as she studies me. I feel like I’m in an alternate universe. Why is she here and why is she talking about my sisters?

“Mrs. Montreal, I don’t mean to be rude, but can we get to the point of this—”

“Ambush,” she says, cutting me off. “Let’s call it what it is.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

“I’d say you’re rather blunt than you are rude.”

“Yeah, it’s just most people will classify it as rude.”

“No one likes a person who knows their own power. And no one likes a woman who wields their power so effortlessly like you do,” she says, sitting back in the chair as she studies me.

“Power?” I whisper, feeling flustered.

“You have fire in you,” she whispers, her eyes sparkling with something between curiosity and admiration. “I’ve been looking forward to having a one-on-one conversation with you for a while, Kim. Is it all right for me to call you that?”

I nod, in the middle of having a brain fart.

“You know, now that you’re here and spoke your mind without restraint before you even saw my face, I have to say, you, my dear are the one.”

“The one?” I repeat, looking and feeling like a fucking parrot.

“Yes!” she says with a beautiful smile on her face. “I have a proposition for you, dear.”

Holy fuck!

“I’d like to offer you a job.”

Silence.

“A job?” I can hear the tremor my voice echoes in the office. All she does however, is smile.

“Yes, dear.” She stands up, grabs her coat, her leather gloves—though it’s not that cold outside—and her three-thousand-dollar Marc Jacobs purse. The whole time I just watch her, blinking like a cartoon character. “Well, are you coming?”

“Coming where?”

“To see and hear more, of course.”

“I…” I stutter. “I have a job to get to. I think I’m already late.”

“You mean the one where you clean rich, spoiled people’s hotel rooms?”

“How do you…” I trail off, seeing how pointless it is. She knows everything. “Yes, that one.”

“That’s far beneath you, isn’t it?”

“And you have something better?”

She opens her purse and takes out a pair of custom Versace sunglasses with her initials engraved on the sides.

“Of course,” she says with her million-dollar Hollywood smile. “How would you like to be my right-hand woman, Kimberly?”

“Your right-hand woman?”

“Yes. May I show you?” she asks, but she doesn’t wait for my response.

She glides—literally glides—gracefully out of the elegant office like the powerhouse beauty she is, and I scramble out of the chair to follow after her.

“But, what about my sister?” I ask as I rush after her like a scene straight out of The Devil Wears Prada.

“Your little sister is already in class now, dear. You can call anytime if you wish to check in with her, but I assure you, she is safe and will thrive here. Casey can even start school here today as well. She’s enrolled too,” she says as she goes, stunning me into silence. “Keep up, dear. There’s a lot to being me.”

“What do you mean Casey has already been enrolled?”

“It means just that, Kim. However, the power of all that lies in your hands. Now come along, dear.”

There’s a Bentley at the front of the building. As we step out of the office building, the driver opens the back door and Christina gets in with the kind of grace only a big-time movie star knows how.

“I drove here.”

“Give him your car keys,” she says, gesturing to her driver. “Your car will be returned to you.”

I can see that she’s growing impatient with my indecision. So now, sink or swim, Kimmy?

I don’t give myself a second to think because if I do, I’ll overthink.

I just dive right into the dark, deep depths of an unchartered ocean.