The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

Chapter 4: Christina

I woke up early on Saturday, feeling exhausted. That night I had slept badly, waking up with bad dreams. I often had bad dreams when there was noise in the street – as there always was before or during a weekend. It made me feel nervous and restless. I had long ago given up the idea of any sort of therapy, though I knew the nightmares came from the past. I had tried therapy, and found that it didn’t agree with me. I had found the therapist inattentive and judgmental.

“Maybe if you find the right person, it’ll help,” I told myself in the mirror. Some therapists were really good, and actually supported people a great deal, after all.

I pushed the thought away. Maybe one day I would give it another go. For now, I would just hope that a fun day with Neela would be enough to put my worries out of my head.

I went into the shower and washed my hair, enjoying the sensation of the warm water coursing over my body. It felt refreshing and made my sore muscles loosen. I washed my hair and then combed it while it was still wet, giving the style a glance in the mirror.

“Not bad.” I smiled at myself, quite pleased with what I saw there.

I have an oval face and I have always taken good care of my skin, meaning that I have a few tiny lines around my eyes at twenty-seven, but no big deal. I combed my thick, dark hair into place – I like it parted a little on one side – and left it to dry, hoping it would bring out the natural wave. I dried off and went through to find something to wear. I planned to wear my new white dress.

“There,” I said to myself as I tugged it on and stood in front of my full-length mirror to check the appearance. It was a little casual for the office – thick straps, an A-line and made of a sort of soft, floaty fabric. It had buttons and it was way more informal than anything I usually wore, which was one of the reasons I wanted to wear it – it might help my mind to relax a bit if I wore less-than-formal clothes. I needed to give myself time to think about enjoying myself.

I walked to the kitchen, feeling the fabric of the dress move, light and floating, around my legs. It felt good. It was a warm day and I felt relaxed and ready for an enjoyable weekend.

I looked around my apartment. On the sixth floor, it was beautiful and bright, with big windows and a beautifully-finished interior, mostly a warm beige or cream tone. I had chosen it because of how calming it was – the color-scheme had already been done when I moved in. I appreciate good color-schemes, though I freely admit I am really bad at them.

I heard the doorbell ring just as I was finishing a big bowl of muesli with thick, full-cream yoghurt. I went to answer it, knowing that it must be Neela.

“Hey!” she greeted me, giving me a big hug. She smelled of strawberries and she was wearing a long tunic and wide-legged trousers made out of a light, floaty fabric. “That’s a gorgeous dress!”

“Thanks,” I said. “I love the color of that tunic! It really looks great on you.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. It was a sort of pale orange, and it matched the trousers, which were a shade of pale brown. Neela had uncannily good skill with color, though she always protested it gave her a headache just to think about it. “So! Have you had breakfast? Shall we go?”

“I was just finished as you walked in,” I said, gesturing at the table. I carried the empty bowl and cup to the sink and rinsed them, leaving them on the side-board. I could sort them out later. Neela was looking out through the window, admiring the view.

“It’s so relaxing up here,” she said, nodding at the window. “It feels like you’re so far away from the city. You can just forget about it – basically no traffic.”

“Kind of,” I said. I could still hear it – especially with the window open. I never slept with the window open if I could avoid it, but last night had been so hot I had done so. I wished I hadn’t now – I was still sleepy after a night of restless wakefulness.

“So,” Neela asked, giving me a smile. She doesn’t know anything about my own particular issues – she knows I can’t sleep sometimes, but aside from that I have shared nothing with her. “Are you ready to hit the town? I have just been checking that invitation, and apparently I need a dress. So, I was thinking, we could start at the mall, and then go down towards that place you mentioned? Then we can stop for lunch at the sandwich-bar when we’re done shopping, too.”

“Sure,” I agreed. It sounded pretty good. “And then we can go back to your place?” I asked. She lived even closer to the mall than I did – we both had pretty centrally-placed accommodation, but I had chosen to live just a little further out – I couldn’t handle the noise and the bright lights that close to our workplace.

“That’s what I thought!” Neela agreed with a grin. “I even cleaned it.”

“Neela,” I teased, shoving her in the arm. “Your home is one of the cleanest I’ve ever seen. You make my place look positively untidy.”

“No way,” she said. “Just no way.”

We were both laughing as we went downstairs and out through the front door. It was hot outside, which was nice – a warm, sweltering New York summer’s day. I felt the heat make me start to sweat almost instantly and I was glad for my breezy dress. I glanced at Neela. She never showed any sign of being influenced by the weather – in all my years of knowing her I had never seen her look less than relaxed.

“So,” she said as we walked down the busy street, weaving our way around people, trash-bins and chalkboards outside retro-looking restaurants. “We’ll start upstairs at the mall and work our way down, okay?”

“Okay,” I said with a shrug. I hoped it wouldn’t be too desperately crowded – being in crowds can trigger me. I followed her in through the big door and up the escalator, glad that the real crowds hadn’t seemed to have descended yet. Or, if they had, they were all still downstairs and not up on the top floor. Maybe her idea made sense, after all.

We spotted a clothing-shop and went in. I have to admit that I really do like shopping. Especially if I have a friend with me. I hadn’t got nearly enough opportunities to do so lately, and I looked around, heart racing.

“So, what kind of a dress are you looking for?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “Something cool, a bit revealing. I plan to have a really good tan by then.”

“Neela!” I chuckled. “When is the party?”

“Week after next.” She grinned. “If needed, I shall go to a tanning bed. The ends justify the means, after all.”

I had to laugh. That was typical of her! I shook my head, grinning at her. “You know those things are probably not good for you.”

“Probably not,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t reckon that every once in a while will kill me, though.”

“No, probably not,” I agreed.

We went around the store, looking for where the dresses were. I stared at the bright colors, the delicate patterns. They had all their summer stock out already and my heart raced. There was a beautiful dress there, with the new stuff on one of the tall racks where they displayed the really nice – white with a pattern of flowers on the bodice, in soft purple, just the mauve side of lavender. I pointed, wordless.

Neela nodded. “You have to,” she said.

I shook my head. “It’s pretty expensive,” I said, taking it off the rack. It was eighty dollars, which I guessed wasn’t impossible for me, by any means, considering my recent pay-raise. All the same, I have always been really bad at spending money. Especially for myself.

“No, it isn’t,” Neela said firmly. “It’s great quality. Just feel it.” She ran her hand down the soft, silky skirt. I did the same. It was a lovely texture, and I could see how well-made and cut it was. It was actually worth the price. “You won’t need to buy another dress this summer.”

“Yeah…I guess so.”

Neela saw me put it back, and gave me an angry look. “Come on,” she said. “If I find something, you have to promise to buy that. I will not let you leave it.”

I grinned. “Neela…” I said slowly. “Really, you can’t expect me to spend so much on myself. I just can’t.”

“If I can do it, you have to,” Neela said.

I sighed and she nodded. “Come on, you know I’m right. Let’s go and look over there. I’m thinking of something pale, to show off my tan.”

“Your soon-to-be-acquired tan,” I agreed, laughing.

She nodded. We spent all morning in the mall. Finally, on the last floor we visited, Neela found a shop with a dress she liked. It was long, straight and with thin straps, made of a heavy white fabric that fell to her ankles. We tried it on in the dressing-room together and I had to applaud her good judgment.

“Wow,” I said.

“I’m taking it,” she said, grinning. She looked at the price-tag. “And it’s way more expensive than the one you liked. So now you absolutely have to take it.”

“Okay,” I said. I watched her shrug off the dress and reach for her everyday clothes. The dress did look glamorous and stunning on her, with her black hair and those beautiful almost-black eyes. I wondered what the white-and-purple dress might look like.

“Come on,” Neela said as we left the store, her dress in a paper bag, looped over one arm. “We’re not leaving.”

“Neela…” I said with a grin. I thought she had forgotten. I stopped walking. I actually felt ill when I thought about spending that much money on myself – and it wasn’t even a work-dress. I couldn’t really wear that to work. Why was I spending so much on it?

“I insist. Come on, Christina. I never see you do nice things for yourself. Now here I am, buying a ridiculously expensive dress just because I like it and, at the moment, I can afford to. I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t do the same. What’s that eighty dollars going to do for you if you don’t spend it on something that’ll make you happy?”

I sighed. I couldn’t really explain to her how I felt. She would have dismissed it. I nodded.

“We can at least see how it looks,” I agreed.

“Great!” she said. “Come on, then; let’s go.”

We went back and took the dress off the hook and Neela insisted on going with me into the changing-room to try it on. I looked at my reflection.

“Oh. Heck…I guess it does look nice, in a way…”

“It looks beautiful. And you’re getting it. Or I’m going to get it and give it to you as a gift.”

“Neela!” I looked at her, eyes wide. She wasn’t joking, and I knew. It was just the sort of thing she would do. “I’ll buy it.”

“Great!” she said. She grinned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. I just know what you’re like. You would save all your money and never have any fun with it if I didn’t try and push you into enjoying it every now and again.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed.

“I know,” she said. “Let’s go and buy it.”

I went to the checkout, and it took real effort to take the cash out and pay for it. I felt queasy as I stood there, but after I’d bought it, I actually felt great.

“I’m glad I got it,” I told Neela, as we walked back to her place after having our sandwiches at the little sandwich-bar around the corner from our workplace.

“Yeah, so am I,” said Neela. “Now, let’s go and do those manicures. And you can help me decide how to accessorize this dress. I have had it up to here with coordinating color.”

I laughed and we went back up to her flat.

I left after a few hours, with my head spinning from strong coffee – Neela always made us coffee, and I was dizzy for about an hour afterwards because of the strong brand she bought – my nails looking really beautiful and feeling relaxed.

I also had a beautiful dress, and I felt really good. I was looking forward to the rest of the week, after all.