Remember me - Cindy Young (story books to read .txt) 📗

Chapter one

My phone alarm clock rings. I wake up without my sister in my arms; my dog isn’t in the bedroom either.

"Shoot! Where are they?”, I wonder. I hope my sister isn’t outside without my knowledge. I jump out of the bed, which is a mess, and run to the kitchen. They aren’t here, they aren’t in the living room and not in the bathroom and...

"Oh my God, please don’t let them be gone", I beg, this would be the end of my life if they were gone.

Many bad thoughts show up in my head:

My sister lying on the ground, blood runs down her face, a car accident.

My sister trying to swim, but the waves push her head down. She drowns.

My sister crying for help, trapped in the basement, a victim of a cruel murderer.

But suddenly the front door rattles and my sister comes running towards me with a yelping dog and she almost overturns me. She laughs when she sees my terrified face.

“Where the hell have you been?”, I ask her vigorously.

She giggles and hits me with a bag in my face from which it smells good and I sigh of relief.

“You went out to buy bread? Why didn’t you leave me a note? You scared me when I noticed that you were gone!”

"I actually thought that we would make it home before your alarm clock rings, but your dog fell in love with a dog lady. They were so cute, I couldn’t interrupt them.", she apologizes.

I can understand that sometimes she is a bit too kind-hearted and sometimes she does inconsiderate things, but you can’t rebuke her for that.

I nod, then: "All right, but next time you’ll have to leave a note, no matter whether you believe that you’ll make it before my alarms clock rings or not, I'm worried if no one is home and I wake up alone."

"OK, I’ll do it. But now we should have breakfast. Go to the bathroom, you look like you’ve fallen out of bed."

"That’s true."

I tousle her hair and run to the bathroom. I consider my appearance in the mirror, my maroon-coloured hair, in reality more like “chestnut”, is totally dishevelled, my cheek is excited, and my lips are nibbled. My brown eyes shine with golden dots. Hmmm, the stand-up look really suits me.

I jump quickly out of my clothes, in this case pyjamas, and have a quick shower.

Then I dry myself in record time and brush my curly hair, that go down to my waist, in which the curliness is from my Mum and the colour is from my father.

Then I put my makeup on, get into my dress and walk to the kitchen.

"Took half an hour", my sister says with a trifled reproachful look.

 

We then enjoyed breakfast together and talked cosily until I look around and see the kitchen clock.

"The clock isn’t right, is it?" I asked frantically.

"Oh no!", curses Sarah, "No, that one is damn right. You're late!"

I jump up and run to the bathroom and clean my teeth, while my sister grabs my bag. I yank it out of her hand. "I'll see you this afternoon, don’t forget the chocolate!", I shout. She closes the front door and cries because she laughs that much.

I hurry to the station and see how the train is leaving. “My boss is going to kill me!

The heck with it!”, I thought. I wait ten minutes for the next train and get in.

 

Finally, with half an hour of delay, I'm in my office; I am taking off my black-matrix-jacket, as someone walks past my door.

It's my boss, “Good morning Alexa.”

"Morning!", I hope he doesn’t notice how I clutch my coat with one hand.

His gaze flits back and forth, then darkens and says loudly: "To my office, immediately!"

Oh no, you can’t have more bad luck than me. He certainly saw the jacket and he’ll recite me the same lecture on punctuality like always.

I hate those units. (**@Mrs Baumann: Gardinenpredigt?**)

I turn on my computer and I am on my way to his office.

In front of his office sits his secretary, a cute, blonde, middle-aged woman. She smiles at me encouragingly and says: "The Boss was very upset somehow. I don’t know what's going on. But you know that I’m always standing right behind you.“

She twinkles.

 

"I’ll be Ok, I was in my office with half an hour delay, he will recite me a unit (**Same thing again!**), but after that he’ll suppose to be normal again," I say, "Yeah, that’s it, you know him."

I nod before I go into the lion's hollow.

I knock three times then I am ordered in with a "Come in".

I take a deep breath and I push the door.

What I see is...

 

I gasp.

 

Oh my God.

 

My boss is sitting quietly at his desk and looks at me.

But that's not what throws me off the track; it’s the man with dark hair and well-built stature, sitting facing towards my boss on a leather chair.

He turns around and looks right at me with his ice-blue eyes.

 

Those eyes, how could I ever forget them?

They wake up memories, which I never wanted to recall again. I have vowed never to fall back into those eyes.

And what am I doing? I look straight into them and fall deep.

My boss clears his throat, destroys the strange atmosphere and says: "You can close the door now, Alexa".

Mad at myself, I turn around and close the door.

I take another deep breath.

Dear God, please make that my boss give me a couple of papers and let me disappear.

"Sit down."

Ok, I knew that God hates me.

I walk towards them and feel the gaze of him. He considers my body, up and down; I want to wrap a huge blanket around my body, because I’ve gotten a pretty dishevelled look due to my haste.

And the dress that I wear is not the longest.

It’s a dark blue pencil skirt that goes up to my knees, suitable to that, I am wearing a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows, a big black belt and a pair of black pumps. Since I was in my haste, I forgot to deposit my black purse.

This is quite normal for the office, but I’m afraid that my hair looks like a scarecrow.

I look at him with evil eyes as the corner of his mouth twitches, and he laughs at me!

This damn man...

My “lovely Boss” doesn’t know who we're dealing with, all he knows is that he is extremely rich and famous and not exactly the man that gives me the worst nightmares.

And this man is abnormally good-looking.

But why? Why does God hate me? Why didn’t he create him with a large number of pimples or a skinhead?

But no, God makes him look like a supermodel.

Outwardly I keep my quiet side, so that the mess inside my heart is not visible. I am very good at pretending because I’ve been doing this for my life.

I sit elegantly on the leather chair next to him, and he still laughs at me!

"Cooper, this is Alexa Daniels, the best female bodyguard. Lex, this is Logan Cooper, a celebrity; you've probably already heard about him, he is the owner of Cooper Industries. "

I nod.

 

"Kingston" Logan says to my boss, "I said that she has to be ravishingly beautiful... what I see is a bunch of skin and bones."

He used to say that I was too fat, but now he says that I am too thin.

Incredible, I look at him, "How dare you talk as if you were a better than everyone else? Money is not everything, you conceited snob. In your life it’s probably the first thing. And that isn’t enough, you are superficial."

He turns with a hard face to me: "If it's not about the money, why do I get here for a larger amount of deposit, better educated people? And if you have no money, can you still be really happy?

Do you?

You need money and who has got money has got influence."

"The only reason with the better payment is simple: We will deduct the money from your pocket to donate it to the poor children.

Oh, and you know what, for instance, I can’t do everything, but I'm pretty sure that I am happier than you.

I agree with you that you can do anything what you want to, if you only got the money. But that should change in our society, you know, that not only the rich and aristocratic ones can do so many bad things without being penalized, simply because they are famous.

Maybe you throw the money out of the window, but at that moment, other people die for it, because they need to feed their families and children.

Money should only be important if everyone respects money and everyone appreciates its value but it mustn’t be the most important thing in life. "

He looks at me with a scrutinizing look: "That's your opinion, but it doesn’t correspond with the majority, who believe that money is the most powerful method and it can move mountains.

But that's not the real topic of our conversation.

So if you are polite... would you let your boss talk?“

 

I am full of sheer anger and I turn to my boss, who I’ve completely forgotten and who looks stunned between Logan and me.

My boss harrumphs, "So, I see you understand each other very well, ahem."

Frog in his throat? Why he is he hawking all the time?

Is it because we understand each other so ‘well’? Anyone who believes in this has got cucumber in front of his eyes.

"So, why did you call me, if it seems like that there is nothing to talk about? I know how I can spend my time better. For example: In my office, where it’s overflowing with work.

What’s so important that you want to discuss with me?" I ask angrily.

This idiot next to me smiles and excites me even more, but I prefer to keep my mouth shut, before I get more trouble later.

Kingston is really surprised about my behaviour.

I can see it clearly in his eyes.

Usually I’m not like that; usually I'm more of a quiet person who sometimes opens his mouth a little bit too far. But no one ever saw me that angry, especially not for such a small thing, but I am so extremely furious at Logan, on what he has done, his character, just if this annoying person is in my proximity, I get angry and apparently he doesn’t even remember me, whose life has been destroyed because of him. And he knows that he destroyed it, but he doesn’t notice who is sitting next to him. Grrrrr, that upsets me.

"Alexa, you should be his bodyguard," my boss interrupts my thoughts.

Of course.

One moment.

WHAT!?!?

 

I probably said it loud, because Logan says: "I am in the opinion that you aren’t the right girl. I didn’t choose you, with your normal appearance anyway."

 

Aha, so I haven’t got long legs, not a good figure, a great character, not a flat stomach and not a pretty face?

I think many people would describe me like that, of course without praising myself.

 

However, in reality I snort instead of telling him what I think about it and look at my boss who says, "Well, you're the best and you fit in as well, so I think that you can do the job."

I immediately make an objection: "And Alison? She's better than me and she probably corresponds better to the imaginations of Mr