Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Chapter 2

I left home at the age of fifteen and have been living in a Santa Monica apartment ever since, courtesy of my father, of course. So, when he wants me to act nice, I reluctantly comply. This time is no exception because the way he's looking at me makes it clear that I don't have much choice.

"I'm hosting a weekend gathering, a small soirée, you might say. It would be nice if my family could be there too."

"Are you winning an award or something?" I deadpanned.

He smiled, confirming my suspicion. I've lost count of the red-carpet events I've attended with him, standing by his side and pretending to be happy for the cameras. I despise every single one of those occasions. I'm not an actress. It's exhausting to pretend to be cheerful while screaming internally.

The only advantage he brings is his name. It opens doors and grants me access to any place I desire. There are definite perks to being a Wanger, and I've always taken full advantage of that. In that sense, I'm much like my mother.

"I am," he announced, clapping his hands together.

He then rambled on for fifteen minutes about the award and why he's receiving it, planning a grand celebration. Essentially, he's hosting two significant events in two days and expects us to play the happy family.

Whatever.

It sounds like a nightmare to me, but at the same time, I need my bills paid. So, like a good, self-centered daughter, I'll be there with a fake smile.

After dinner, I thanked him for the meal, promised to attend his parties dressed to perfection, and then I left.

Photographers were waiting outside the restaurant, as he always chooses the fanciest places in town, the ones constantly swarmed by paparazzi. He loves being seen, and I can't blame him. I suppose I enjoy it too. I am my mother's attention-seeking daughter, after all. Attention is nice, regardless of its source, and to be honest, I'm not getting it from anywhere else at the moment.

Leaving him behind, I slipped into the front seat of my car when the valet brought it to me. I headed straight for Santa Monica. It's only a fifteen-minute drive to the club where my friends are waiting, but with traffic, it'll take me over an hour.

That's fine. Nobody wants to be early at a club anyway. They can wait; I'll make a grand entrance. Then again, don't I always? I'm famous for being Barry Wanger's daughter, but I'm also famous for no particular reason. I'm famous for being seen, for partying, for smiling, and for being wherever there are attractive people.

Maybe it's because I've been on my own since I was fifteen, or maybe it's because my mother ran off to Paris when I was ten. Who the hell knows? Frankly, I don't care. I'll continue living this life until I'm ready for something else.

Until it's time for a change.

I'm not sure when that will be. I've been living like this for eight years, and it's starting to feel monotonous. Nothing exciting or new ever happens. I'm undeniably bored, though I'm not sure if I'm bored enough to initiate change. And what change would I even attempt?

The club comes into view, and I hand my keys to the valet as I step out of the car. My heels are as high as possible without making me look like a newborn baby giraffe when I walk. My skirt is short enough to show off, but not reveal too much.

I'm the classy club girl—or at least that's what I tell myself. I don't show as much skin as I did when I was fifteen or sixteen. I'm twenty-three now, and I've grown up a little. Not a lot, but a little.

As soon as I enter the loud club, I look up and spot Nate standing alone at our reserved table. He waves me over as soon as our eyes meet.

I don't ask him about Marie and Claudia. I'm sure they're on the dance floor, as they always do everything together. And honestly, that's exactly where I want to be right now.

Taking a deep breath, I hurry toward Nate and give him a quick hug. He returns the embrace, kissing me on each cheek before stepping back and frowning at me.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Shaking my head, I run my fingers through my hair and reach for the bottle of champagne. I lift it to my lips and drink as much as I can without coughing. After consuming at least three glasses' worth, I lower the bottle and give him a smile before speaking.

"I'm sure I will be."

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter