Chapter 18

It was very early, too early. I just arrived at my mother's house for the interview that I was no where near prepared for. I walked up the large stone steps that lead to her door. Before I had the chance to knock the large door was opened. I entered and Olivia was walking down the stairs, looking completely ready in her beautiful, navy blue, cocktail dress.  She looked at me disapprovingly, her mouth turned downwards. "What are you wearing?" Disgust clear in her tone as she eyed me up and down.  I looked down at the simple black maxi dress I had thrown on this morning. I didn't know how to dress for anything like this. "Clothes," I stupidly answered to just to get under her skin.  She rolled her eyes at me and went to reach for my arm, but I took a step back. "Well come on, you need to really get dressed." She turned to walk up the stairs, her heels clicking against the floor.  I followed her up the stairs and into the bedroom I was supposed to be staying in when I first arrived. There was a hanging rack across the room with a few dresses hung up. I walked over to it and examined each one. I arched a brow when seeing each of them. They were all very her.  I looked back to my mother as she was approaching me. "I like that blue one," she pointed to the dress most similar to hers.  "Of course you do," I muttered under my breath. I turned the rack again. I looked through each one again and notice the two piece outfit that hung on a hanger together. It was a blushed tone top with a floral printed skirt that seemed to be more form fitting. I grabbed the hanger and slung the clothes in front of me to view it in the mirror. "What about this one?"  She walked over to me, standing behind as she looked at me through the mirror with a slight tilt to her head. "It's not as nice as the blue one, but it'll do." She said before walking away. "I'll be back in an hour." She called out before closing the door.  I was left with her hairdresser and makeup artist to get completely done up. I was surprised at how quickly they were able to get it done. But her hairdresser, Karissa, was much snobbier than I'd like to deal with at this time. She kept making comments about, and I quote, my "dull brown hair".  When they left I quickly got dressed. I finished zipping the skirt up and walked over to the mirror to examine myself. My hair was in big curls that framed my face. My makeup was stunning, the eyeliner slightly winged. She put on a nude lipstick with just a little bit of gloss. The outfit itself was gorgeous. I slipped on my nude heels, completing the look.   I walked out the room and down the stairs. Camera men and other people carry equipment were coming into the house, setting up in the living room. I followed the trail of people that lead me to my mother. She was talking with some woman, using her fakest nice voice as she smiled sweetly. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I approached her.  "Oh, Christiana , this is Lydia Clark, New York Time's head editor." She introduced.  Lydia was an older woman, maybe upper 50's, but she was beautiful. Her skin was hardly wrinkled and her complexion was completely clear. She looked to be from a Hispanic decent, assuming because of her medium skin tone. Her dark brown, almost black, hair didn't have a single hint of grey. It was cut into a bob with layers framing her heart shaped face.  I offered a small smile and extended me hand. "Very nice to meet you."  She returned the smile, shaking my hand. "Pleasures mine, I'm so happy to hear about your rekindling relationship with your mother here." She said happily, looking between the two of us. It almost seemed like she wanted to get some type of reaction to see if we were really as close as Olivia said.  I nodded, keeping the look of fake happiness on my face. "Me too,"  "Shall we get started?" She offered.   Olivia nodded. "Yes, of course."  "Great, let me grab Sarah, she'll be interviewing the both of you." Lydia said, much to my relief. I was glad she wasn't going to be the one basically interrogating us.  As soon as Lydia walked away, Olivia took a step next to me to lean closer to speak. "Don't let that smile falter, Christiana ." She whispered harshly. "And remember to lie if you have to." The advice of a true snake.  A few moments later we were sat on the couch with Sarah across from us sitting in an arm chair. She was younger, maybe just slightly older than I. Her green business dress was eye catching and complimented her fair skin tone. Her ginger hair was curled and she looked like she should be the one being interviewed.  "Five... four... three... two... one..." the camera man pointed at Sarah as she kept a smile on her face, facing the camera.  "Welcome to New York Post online where we bring you the latest stories.  I'm sitting here now with Olivia Sterling, wife of the man that needs no introduction, Santiago Sterling."  Oh please kill me.  "I'm also sitting here with Christiana , Olivia’s daughter, someone that has been missing in her life for too long." She said. The camera turned to face us now and I folded my hands in front of me, resisting the urge to twirl my thumbs. I was nervous to say the least.  "Olivia , I'm so happy to hear you've reconnected." Sarah said, starting the interview.  Olivia gave a wide smile. "Me too, Sarah. It's been too long without my sweet girl." She reached to hold my hand in hers. Her hand was cold on mine and suddenly made me miss Sebastian and the way his were warm.  "Can you tell us what happened?" Sarah continued.  My mother's wide smile now turned to a sad, fake one. "Unfortunately the marriage between her father and I turned abusive." My eyes went wide as the words escaped her mouth. Was she really saying this right now for everyone to hear? "There was no love and I wanted to leave with my sweet Christy, but he took her and I wasn't able to find her. Until now," she looked over at me with fake admiration.  I looked into the cold eyes of this wretched human and found nothing but evil.  "Oh my gosh, that is horrible. Christiana , tell us about your father." Sarah practically begged. I bet she wasn't expecting a story like this.  I knew I sure as hell wasn't...  My mother was silently pleading I'd go along with her story. I tore my eyes to look at Sarah who had absolutely no idea what the truth was, it she was slicing it.  I blanked for a moment, not knowing what to say. If I deny it, this will ruin Olivia completely and our deal. Although Sebastian had agreed to pay for everything I just couldn't let him do that. He'd already done enough with helping us with our house.  But if I went along, my father would forever be known as an abuser. I couldn't take that chance or let her do this to him. There was no reason. We were supposed to be talking about reuniting, not making up some story about my father being abusive, which couldn't be farther from the truth. He was a hard working and loving man that was with an abusive woman who only thought of herself.  "He was very loving and caring." I started, by Sarah's expression I could tell she was surprised. "I don't know what went on with my parents because they never fought in front of me." I partially lied. I don't know the complete back story of how their marriage crashed and burned. "But never was I abused. Being reunited with my mother has been a blessing in my life." Well that was painful to say. "I know my mother was young when she had me and we all make mistakes when we're young. I don't know what my father has said and I don't know what she's said to my father, but I know I love them each very much." I attempted to salvage what my mother was trying to ruin. I don't know if I said the wrong thing and made it worse or did nothing at all. I could only hope that everything would be okay after this.  The rest of the interview was painfully long with back and forth questions regarding the apparent abuse my mother suffered, but thankfully, didn't go into detail about.  Probably because it's a damn lie.  After everyone had left we were the only ones left in the house. I went upstairs to pack my belongings, quickly shoving everything into a bag. The door opening made me glance up, but I turned my head to continue packing when I saw it was Olivia .  "You did well, Christiana ." She sickeningly compliment.  I stood up straight and my face mimicked how shocked at her words I was. "I did well? You sick bitch!" I exclaimed, throwing a shoe that hit the wall making her flinch. "What the hell was that?!" I snapped, feeling the warm tears filling in my eyes. I wasn't sad, I was angry, beyond angry.  "Calm down, Christiana !" She looked scared as she tried to find the confidence in her voice. "We had to give them something—"  "That was cruel." My voice low and serious as I continued glaring at the pathetic woman in front of me. "My father was never abusive and you know it!"  "You don't know anything!" She yelled back.  "Oh yeah?" I asked, letting out a non humorous laugh. "Tell me then why don't you? Tell me how uncaring and awful he is."  She looked to be at a loss of words. "Your father didn't give a damn about me."  I shook my head. "And you didn't give a damn about me." I said.  "I couldn't stay there, Christiana . He worked so much and didn't once ask how I was. His wife!"  "Are you hearing yourself? He worked as much as he did to provide for us." I tried to reason, but it was pointless. "You wanted someone to wait on you hand and feet, giving you endless attention."  She scoffed. "That is not what I wanted."  "Yes it is," I countered. "And you found that in Santiago . He showered you with attention and things." I spat, thinking about the letters I found from him when my mother left. Actually my dad found them. I'd never seen him so broken before, but after that day we never really mentioned Olivia again. "But look where that got you. Sure you have nice things and money, but what about happiness or love? Even in that little boy, my brother, you weren't able to find happiness." I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. All the things I've wanted to say to her these past years built up and needed to be released. "You're a cold woman, Olivia . I want nothing to do with you."  "Christiana , we had a deal—" that's all she could think about.  "I'm well aware of our deal," I sneered, cutting her off. "I'll still be in New York for the remainder of the deal because you pawned your own daughter off." Not that I minded being with Sebastian now, but she had no problem handing me over to someone else.  She filled and looked down at the floor for a moment before looking back at me. "I'm sorry you feel this way."  I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure you do." I grabbed the bag that was sitting on the ground. "Goodbye," I walked out, my shoulder brushing against hers as I left.