Danny Osipenko "Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life"

– 100,000. – Without waiting for my answer, he said.

IВ saw aВ lot ofВ people inВ the audience starting toВ look inВ our direction.

– 200,000!

Apparently my father put my mother’s brooch up for sale, so that he could buy it back himself. But I don’t know why I didn’t want to lose to him at this point. I was well aware that the promise I had just made to the man sitting next to me was beginning to take an unsafe turn. Because even without looking at a good income, I could not afford a brooch for 200 thousand bucks. But at this point I had other things on my mind. Like letting my dad know that I was playing against him?

– Ma’am? – My neighbor turned to me.

– Do you take checks?

The man grinned.

– I accept. 250,000 bucks!

– 250,000 one! 250,000 two!

– 300,000 bucks.

I didn’t seem to want to overcome it at the moment, but I shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. After all, 300,000 bucks was my ceiling, which I could no longer jump over.

– Sir, I think you and I are going to have to slow down.

– Convinced?

– 300,000, one.

– I’m afraid so.

– But it’s your mom’s brooch!

– I know.

– 300,000, two.

– But should I stop there? – We looked each other in the eye. – 350,000!

There was an uproar inВ the hall.

– Sir, I don’t have that kind of money! – I whispered.

– 400,000 bucks! – my father bellowed.

IВ imagined his face, scarlet with tension, and grinned bitterly. My neighbor was about toВ raise his sign, but IВ stoppedВ him.

– Don’t. I am grateful to you for responding to my request. But now I ask you to slow down.

– 400,000, one.

– Ma’am, I’m afraid it’s a matter of principle. – He made me feel uncomfortable. – 500,000!

IВ saw Aunt Jo standing up from her seat next toВ my dad, and she looked inВ our direction. We met her eyes, and then she sat down again and said something toВ myВ dad.

– 500,000, one! – The host’s voice sounded an octave higher than before. – 500,000 two!

The whole room fell silent, waiting for the nextВ bet.

– Please, Daddy, don’t do this. – I pleaded with my eyes squeezed shut.

– 500,000, three! Sold to the man at number 205!

There was applause.

– Congratulations, you finally made it!

IВ was aВ little worried when IВ said those words.

– So are you.

Now that everything was behind me, I was relieved. Never had a charity auction been as exciting for me as this one. People began to rise from their seats to continue the evening over good wine and dancing in the museum’s large banquet hall.

Well, now it’s time for me to settle up for a huge thank you!

ChapterВ 5

– Here’s my card. – With a trembling hand, I pulled a small piece of paper from my purse with all my contact information written on it. – Call me when you feel comfortable, so I can keep my promise. I am very grateful to you for believing me and redeeming my mother’s brooch. Thank you, sir!

– I couldn’t help you, Miss…» The man looked at my card in his hands. When a young woman asks for help, a man shouldn’t stay away. Thanks to you, this evening doesn’t seem so sour to me now. Here, in case you need my help again.

IВ took his black platinum card and ran my eyes overВ it.

– Mr. Moreau? Right?

– That’s right.

– It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moreau!

– Likewise, Miss Spikes!

– I apologize for dragging you into this adventure. I’m really sorry that you had to spend so much money on such a little contrivance.

– It’s okay. It was kind of fun. It’s not every day that you get something really valuable, like this brooch.

We were standing byВ the champagne table, which we approached as we walked out ofВ the auction hall. My lifeguard was eight inches taller than me, if not more. IВ was standing with my head held high, and my neck was starting toВ hurt.

The man was not only tall, but also quite good-looking, so many ofВ the ladies present, threw intrigued looks at him. IВ was aВ little taken aback myself when IВ finally got aВ good look at my neighbor, after the tension had finally subsided inВ my whole body. Apparently IВ was so used toВ ignoring the people around me that now any ofВ them became, inВ my eyes, impersonal.

The first time I met Mr. Moreau, all I could see was a gray-blue three-piece suit. And for some reason I thought he was, like, over the age of 50. Even after I clutched at his hand and begged for help, I still didn’t pay any attention to his appearance. Now that the invisible shroud of excitement was out of my eyes, I could finally get a good look at the man. His dark-blond hair, hazel eyes, light stubble, and straight, aristocratic nose. All in all, there was a man standing in front of me who, on my friend Miranda’s «Attractiveness» scale, could get nine points, if not all10.

– Means Henry Spikes, your father!?

– Yes, that’s right. Do you know him?

Mr. Moreau took aВ small sip ofВ champagne from his own glass.

– This is inevitable if you are a major partner in a large company like Spikes & Spikes.

– The truth?

– Yes, ma’am. – The man leaned toward me a little. – And since you’re his daughter, I’ll give you some advice. Don’t ever try to stop me again. It’s not my policy to give up before I get to the end, even if the risk is great.

I didn’t like what he was saying.

– Would you like to say that I am very impulsive?

– Is it?

– I would call it determination.

Mr. Moreau grinned and placed his own glass on the table.

– So be it! At this point, ma’am, please excuse me.

– Oh!» I got a little confused. – Yes, of course. It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Moreau.

– Me too, Miss Spikes! And me!

The man looked at me again and, with aВ slight nod ofВ his head, strode confidently toward the center ofВ the banquet hall.

ChapterВ 6

Heresy. All is heresy. AВ deception ofВ untainted water.

At this point, IВ was lying toВ everyone. My dad, Miranda, Aunt Jo, my personal therapist Brenden Cooper, and even our concierge, Frank. And they all believed my heresy.

In fact, I was in pain. Reckless, to the point of clinking in my own tiny bathroom, where no one would see my pain. In all four years, I didn’t show it to others. It was only my pain, my torment, and my punishment.

After Mike’s death, my life was transformed into theater. I put on different masks in front of people and played my part. And after another intermission, I would lock myself in the bathroom of my own apartment and indulge in self-torture.

Mr. Cooper, the psychologist hired byВ my dad, even though he looked like aВ man who believed inВ me. Still, from time toВ time IВ noticed doubt inВ his eyes. Maybe if IВ was aВ little more candid, then IВ would be able toВ tell him what was happening inВ my life and my soul. But how could he know that? AВ man with aВ beautiful wife and two little kids! He lived inВ aВ world ofВ happiness and domestic harmony. While IВ was living inВ misery and spiritual anguish.

Mr. Cooper loved to repeat, the only word he liked to use was «lingering depression. In just one hour of our meeting, he said it twice20. Apparently, in his mind, that’s exactly how it looks. Part of the reward for me was that he didn’t dig deeper into the very essence of the difficulty. And that annoyed me.

ToВ be frank, IВ was annoyed byВ everything. People, whether they were close toВ me or strangers. The things around me, the weather on the other side ofВ the window, the sounds, the voices, even the silence made me furious. IВ could hold this feeling inside me for aВ long time, until IВ was alone with myself. That was my therapy and IВ needed nothing else. Over time, this life became the norm for me. IВ smiled when it was necessary, and afterwards IВ returned toВ my empty apartment, took off my mask, and transformed into myself.

If anyone had seen me in those moments, they might have thought I was no longer alive. I sat naked in the bathroom for a long time, my knees pressed against my chest, listening to the soft murmur of the tap water. I devoted that time to my main symphony of life – a melody moving from unbearable pain to serene emptiness. After a few hours in the bathroom, I was exhausted and broken, moved to my bedroom and lay awake for half the night looking up at the night sky, not thinking about anything.

Miranda would come back, and I’d start my own play again. I got up in the afternoon, put on my business suit, ate one milk sandwich, pretended to be late, and left for work. I did all this so Miranda wouldn’t ask me any questions. What my friend didn’t know was that I didn’t actually work at a prestigious company. That I had never even applied there in the first place. Neither my loved ones nor my father knew that either. They believed in my heresy. Several times one of them dropped me off at the head office of ARTNOVA Design Studio. But none of them bothered to check to see if it was in fact true. They smiled, telling others that I was working at a lovely job where I was designing websites for various companies. They believed the heresy I made up and were happy. In fact, I only had the occasional part-time job at a small greeting card design firm that did work online.

Twice a month I visited the library and took a stroll to the pool, at least to relieve my boredom. Since not enough people went to the library at nine o’clock, it was the same with the pool. I told Miranda I was going to work, but in fact I was in one of these places. There was a peace and quiet that allowed me to be alone. In the library I mostly slept and only occasionally read one of the books I took with me. Hence the small number I read. When people came, I went to the park, ate one ice-cream or continued to sleep on the bench. On several occasions I was naturally approached by the police, so I had to keep my passport with me at all times. If I had been taken to the police station for a few hours, all my relatives would have heard about it. Then my heresy would have been exposed, which means I had to say that I do not work and never worked at the design studio «ARTNOVA». After one uncovered deception, would have been followed by another, and so everyone would finally realized that in fact I was leading everyone astray, almost years5. And maybe after that they would have put me in a hospital to help me cope with my own spiritual pain. But that’s exactly what I didn’t want. That’s why I hid behind masks. It was the only way I could survive in their happy world and stay alive. Maybe at some point I would become ordinary. Or maybe I would just end it once and for all. It was up to me to decide, and that meant I was the only one who had to fight.

InВ my soul IВ am aВ lonely warrior and everyone calls me nothing.

ChapterВ 7

– Take it away! I don’t need it anymore.

Miranda returned now inВ the evening6, and right from the threshold, she handed me the languid bag inВ which her friend always kept her equipment.

– What do you mean?

Miranda sat down on the couch, folded her arms across her chest, and looked at me sternly.

– Straight up. I know I’ve said it often enough, but now was really the last time I took a picture for someone.

– Again!?

My friend jumped up from her seat and ran over toВ me.

– I’m serious Val!

– What now?

IВ got tired ofВ holding the bag and put it on the floor.

– This time, it’s definitely over!

– The end of what, Sue? Work? Travel? Or photos? To what directly!?

– All Val. I’m tired of working with people who criticize me all the time and who keep repeating that if they had taken Stefano, they would have been finished in two days. What’s disgusting about being a bit of a perfectionist in my business? Just a couple of days and I would have given them the great footage. But Mr. Paczynski, damn him, told me they only had a week left before their magazine would be stitched together. What’s that got to do with me? They could have told me right away, or called me earlier. How hard can it be, Val?

IВ took my friend byВ the shoulders and put her on the couch.

– That’s easy. But let’s you calm down for the moment, and we’ll relax and sort this whole situation out. All right?

Miranda glared at me aВ couple more times before she finally nodded her head.