Are You The One?

“Well technically I am in the media. I’ve recently become a silent partner in Global Enterprises.”

“Global? But they own Metro News,” Brittany exclaimed in shock.

She had stopped dancing.

“Yes well I tried to get you another interview but they said the position was already filled. So I bought some stock and now they will be calling you in by next week.”

“You bought some stock to get me an interview?” she asked confused.

“Yes about thirteen percent of the company is now a subsidiary of my own.”    

“That’s insane,” she said.

“It was also a good investment.”

“Everyone has their price,” she muttered under her breath.

“What?” Cliff asked.

“Nothing,” Brit conceded.

“You know,” she said suddenly to change the subject. “You promised to explain about last week.”

“Ah yes. I did. The dance floor is not a particularly good spot for that conversation. Would you like to go out on the balcony for some air?” he asked offering her his arm.

Brit took it and let him lead the way. She nodded at Tara who beamed back at her, as she danced with Eric.  The balcony was deserted although well-lit by hundreds of paper lanterns hung along the trellis that framed one entire wall. There were small intimate tables with candles burning softly. They chose the most secluded and Brit steeled herself for what Cliff had to say.

“You look lovely in the glow of the candlelight,” he said as he held her chair.

“Your flattery will get you nowhere,” she teased playfully but was secretly pleased. 

“Brittany I know what you must be thinking but honestly I didn’t leave you to rush off to my ex-girlfriend.”

“Did Eric tell you what I said?” she asked.

“Yes. We talked. He told me your suspicions and I have to say that I’m truly sorry that I made you feel that way,”

“I did not feel anything. I understand, she’s your ex and she needed you,” she said quickly.

“There’s really nothing for you to be worried about.”

“You don’t have to explain,” she said

“I know I don’t have to explain but I really wanted to clear the air between us,” he began. “Holly is not my ex-girlfriend. She’s my little sister.”

“Is she your step or half-sister?” Brit asked curiously.

“No we have the same parents,” Cliff explained. “Why do you ask?”

“You have different last names and she’s blonde and so fair. You’re dark, your hair, your complexion, even your blue eyes are dark where hers were pale and icy. I didn’t see the resemblance,” Brit said confused.

“She uses my mother’s maiden name but she is still an Adams. And she looks just like my mother. I look like my father,” he said with a shrug.

“Oh. I guess that makes sense,” Brit said slowly.

“You remember all that from meeting her once?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I’m a reporter,” Brit defended. “Besides I wanted to see what your type was,” she added quietly, her face flushed red. 

“My type? I don’t know. Intelligent, funny, sarcastic. About five seven, skin the color of caramel silk, big brown eyes, unbelievably curly hair, drop dead gorgeous with extremely kissable lips. Something along those lines,” Cliff teased.

“That’s oddly specific,” Brit smirked.

“No specific would be if I said shoots daggers at me with those incredible eyes every time she looks at me. I don’t know if I should be afraid or excited.”

Cliff held Brit’s gaze with a smoldering one of his own before she blushed and looked away.

“So tell me about Holly,” Brit said to break the tension that had grown between them.

“Where do I begin. My mother died a few years ago while helping in the Middle East. She wasn’t content to just sit at home being a socialite. She was working at an orphanage in a cease fire zone and there was a bombing.”

“Oh Cliff I am so sorry,” Brit said sincerely.

“She was an incredible woman and people adored her. No one as much as Holly did though. People expect when you come from money that you’re raised by nannies but my mother was involved. She was an amazing woman. She used to go to war torn countries as an ambassador. My maternal grandfather held a high position as a diplomat for the British embassy. She gave it up when she met my father of course. We could tell she missed her work.  But then I had just graduated from college and Holly was old enough to be left alone. My mother saw what was happening around the world and she wanted to help again.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Brit said holding his hand.

 And she died doing something she believed in. But Holly had to deal with it on her own. My mother’s death affected my father greatly and he checked out. Poured himself into his work. I went to London and while I was gone she changed. She dropped out of Stanford recently and she has been avoiding my calls. Then out of nowhere, she went and ran off with some stranger she had one class with.”

“Stranger to you or to her?” Britney asked.

“Both.”

“How old is she?” Brit questioned.

“She’s twenty-one now. Nine years younger than I am.”

“I’m sorry but she’s an adult. You can’t stop her from doing anything she wants,” Brit observed.

“And that’s the problem. Holly turned twenty-one six months ago. On her twenty first birthday she gained access to her trust fund. Twelve days later she dropped out of school. From what her friends have told me she was only dating this guy for a few weeks. When I voiced my concerns and demanded she return to school, she refused to take my calls and has been refusing to even see me.”

“That explains why you were so desperate to get into the art show. I’m so sorry Cliff.”

“Since then she has suddenly been spending money like crazy and worst of all I think this guy is the reason. He comes out of nowhere. They both drop out of school. Yes, I’ve checked. He’s obviously a bad influence.”