Chapter 8 Ms. Wilson
Chapter 8 Ms. Wilson
"Ms. Bisson it's time to wake up," I heard similar to my alarm. I groan.
"I don't wanna," I replied in a childless tone. My face showing a pout.
"Ms. Bisson the plane landed thirty minutes ago, Mr. Carter has being waiting for you in his car." That
brought me back reality. I took off my glasses and rubbed my sleepy eyes. I reluctantly stand up and
grap my bags. I looked at the airhostess that was straddling Carter. I cut my eyes and mummer
"Pathetic," enough for her to hear. I quickly came out of the Private plane. I didn't care if she heard me.
Who straddles someone in front of people? She's a complete bitch.
I saw a black Mercedes. The windows were down and a set of emarld eyes staring at me. I entered the
car on the opposite side. As soon as I entered the car the chauffeur, start the engine. I sat across from
Cater. He had all his attention of his phone, texting away. He was obviously trying to avoid a
conversation with me. I followed and took out my phone along with my earphones.
Chris Brown-Love More ft Nicki Minaj starts playing. I love Rap mix with R&B, I loved music. It is my
escape from this cruel world. Music takes me a place free of worries. All my problems cease to exist
when I listen to music.
In my teens, I was a street dancer, secretly of course in the real world I was a nerd. I love the danger
that came with dancing. I loved when cops will run us down in the park. I loved dancing itself. That was
my secret not even my sister knew about it. I told her I spent time at the library and she believed. She
never entered in the library to see if I was telling the truth because she was too popular to be caught in
a library. At that time of my life I was a secret rebel. I didn't dance as often as I did as a teen. That This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.
reminds me, today was Wednesday, I was an assistance dance teacher for Carlos dance studio. I
search my contracts and call him, I got voice mail so I left a message.
"Carlos, I won't be able to make today or any other day for some time. I'm in Los Angeles. Tell the
kids I said hi," I said in Spanish. "I'll miss you my friend. Thanks for your help. Bye." I ended the call.
Carlos is the closest friend I had after my sister and I didn't let anyone else in. Carlos was gay best
friend and also best friend. He is Hispanic and some was my step father, Henrique. Carlos was one of
the rebels I hang out with back in Las Vegas. He moved to New York two years before I did and we met
up back in a coffee shop. I smiled as I remember the encounter.
"You know emo girls where never my type I just simply prefer girls with red-hair." I heard the voice
behind me said. I quickly turned around, to see who was brave enough to tell me I was emo. A nerd
yes, but emo? Nope, not at all.
"Carlos," I was shocked to see my gay friend in front me. I hugged him immediately and he laughed.
He quickly release me and took a seat in the empty spot around my table. I followed and sit.
"Where is the red head I used to know? " He asked mentioning to my hair.
"Yea, I kind of dyed it," I replied. I dyed my hair so I wouldn't look like my twin who had broke my
heart.
"No shit Sherlock," he said. I rolled my eyes.
I stared out the tainted windows of the Mercedes. I continue staring that until I saw the car being turned
into a mansion. It was of cream color, it was the most beautiful place I'd ever laid eyes on.
I looked across and I saw sand then my eyes caught the sea. Wow, not only was this home beautiful, It
was also close to sea. This place is a paradise.
The Chauffeur parked outside the mansion. He came out of the car in haste. I made my way to opened
the car, but the chauffeur opened it for me, he gave me a smile. I returned it, and said, "Thank you,"
Carter came behind me but didn''t say thanks to the driver. He made his way to door and I followed
slowly behind him. I saw him press the doorbell. Why did he do that? Weren't we at his place?
The door opened and a lady in a plate uniform opened the door. She has faded grey hair. She had a
smile on her face. "Good afternoon, Mr. Carter." She turned and then she saw me. Her face showed
an immediate growl and the smiled disappeared. With that reaction I knew she didn't like me, he must
have told her about my sister. "Good afternoon, Ms. Bisson."
I offered her a light smile. "Hi,.."
"My name is Cynthia Wilson, but you'll address me as Ms. Wilson. Please follow me and I'll take you to
where you'll be staying."
"Okay," I lightly said taking up my luggage that the chauffeur left at my feet. Ms. Wilson is as scary as
her boss is.