The Right Kind Of Wrong Read online

  The

  Right Kind of

  Wrong

  By L.B. Reyes

  The Right Kind of Wrong

  Copyright © 2018 by L.B. Reyes.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: September 2018

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-444-0

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-444-6

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To those who see the light

  in a world full of darkness.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23`

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 1

  Evelyn

  How do you stay different?

  That's the question I asked myself every single day because I looked around me and Lord knows, I wanted to be nothing like the people surrounding me. Pretentious. Selfish. Greedy.

  I've always wanted to be me.

  So as I stared at the people surrounding me in first class; I decided I wasn't going to sit around with the snobby people. I stood up with a smile, catching the pilot off guard

  “Miss Carson, we're about to take off. Could you take a seat? Or is there any way we can help?” The question was asked with a dazzling smile. Would he have been so polite if I had been in economy class?

  Let's experiment.

  “Oh, yes. I can take a seat. Just excuse me for a moment, will you?” I smiled at him as well and he nodded. He appeared willing to do whatever I asked so long as my dad kept doing business with this company.

  Kiss ass.

  I stood up and headed back to economy class where I saw everyone from families to little kids that were impatient to get off the airplane and older people conversing. My gaze fell on a small family, what I assumed to be a couple with their baby, perhaps four months old. They were the ones who would be taking my place. I glanced back where a flight attendant and the pilot waited, shaking their heads at the same thing I somehow always managed to pull off.

  “Excuse me,” I said with a small smile. “Can I have your seats?”

  The woman seemed confused, searching for a hint as to what to do from her husband.

  “I'm sorry, but we paid for these seats,” the man replied with a frown.

  “Oh,” I muttered. “I'm sorry. I don't think I explained myself. I always assume people know what I'm trying to say.”

  It's true. My brain has never been able to make the connections clear.

  “I meant, would you like to sit in first class? I'll take your seat.”

  The pair widened their eyes, disbelief etched on both their faces. This was the best part of it all—watching how someone else's face changed from surprise to pure happiness.

  “I'm sorry…we can't afford first class.” The woman's face fell as if there was something wrong with not being able to afford it.

  “Oh, that won’t be an issue. It's covered.”

  The pilot approached me as a reminder that I only had one seat in first class.

  “I'm sure if I pull out my credit card and pay for the other seat, you won't have anything negative to say now, will you?” I glared at him.

  He nodded, walking away. Interesting, the things money can do.

  “Go on,” I told them. “Have fun and relax a bit. Order whatever you want. A glass of wine, food…it’s all covered.”

  The family appeared to be on the verge of tears; my heart was full. Having money to spare, I'd seen the way people held on to it as if it's their saving grace. I wanted to be the furthest thing from that. I knew money didn’t mean a single thing, not if you were lonely. Not if you didn’t have a home.

  I took the seat by the window and let the pilot know my tantrum was over.

  Take off started and I made sure to keep my eyes open, looking down, taking in the beautiful view of the ground disappearing as we vanished into the clouds.

  Finally, I sighed, dreading what awaited upon my return back in Pennsylvania. I wasn't looking forward to it. My family there wasn't very family-like. No one had the same interests as me, they were all too busy pretending to be happy in their fancy ass houses and their fancy ass cars.

  Meanwhile, their children were out using drugs and instead of getting them into rehab, they pretended to know nothing so their “reputation” wouldn't be ruined. Men were out cheating on their wives with their secretaries, or whoever was the first to bat their eyelashes at them, and the women were too busy getting their nails done to give a damn.

  Or they were too busy working on building a company they wouldn't be able to take to the grave when they died, like my sister.

  It had been too easy for her to ship me off to Florida when I was sixteen; buy me an apartment instead of pretending to care about me. I was too much of a “distraction” for her.

  Hannah took after my parents; all work, no play. Work, work, work. And so long as their oldest daughter built up their wonderful company, little Evelyn could go wherever she wanted.

  I knew I'd be a burden as soon as I stepped foot in that airport. I was much too different from them. They would never understand the way I viewed life, nor my career choice or lack of thereof, or why I dressed the way that I dressed and not like the proper young woman they wanted me to be. I was just starting out my life. I refused to be something I wasn’t.

  There were two people who stood out as different in my family. First, Nana; the matriarch, the one person that could bring us together despite our differences, the one that actually cared about human beings rather than material possessions. She was the only one who supported my decision not to be part of the family’s business.

  And then there was Nathan, my sister's husband. Polar opposites. My sister was a control freak while he was just…him. My dad had tried to get him to work in the company and he had refused, not wanting to feel like he hadn't earned his place there. Besides, his interests were different. He cared more about the arts and taught in the art department at Pennsylvania State University, the same college I'd be attending.

&
nbsp; I hoped my sister hadn't changed him with her frivolous ways and that he remained the same friendly man full of integrity I had met before.

  I shook away the thoughts. He was much too strong to let himself be changed by the people surrounding him. He was twenty-five already. If he'd been so headstrong when he was younger, I was sure he remained the same.

  Once we landed, I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. As much as I dreaded arriving at the place where my life would change yet again, I was nervous. Though I didn't care to admit it, I always longed for a caring word from my sister. At least a “you’re doing great.”

  Maybe things would be different this time.

  I dragged the luggage behind me and immediately spotted Mr. Carter, the family chauffeur. He smiled at me, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with the gesture and his arms open to receive me with a hug. I had grown up with him around. I even considered him more of a father than my own.

  I ran into his arms and he laughed, the sound vibrating from deep within his chest.

  “My, my, Miss Evelyn. How you've grown.”

  “Well, it has been three years,” I replied.

  “Far too long,” Tears formed in his eyes.

  “Oh, don't do that, or I'll cry too.”

  A hand on my shoulder interrupted the moment and I turned around to find the family I'd given the seat up for on the airplane. The woman hugged me, not hesitating, I hugged her back.

  “Thank you so much,” she said. “We were having a hard day, so that meant everything to us.”

  “Of course.” I admired the beautiful baby in the father's arms. “I hope they treated you well.”

  “More than well. It was wonderful. Thank you so much.”

  “Do you guys need a ride?” I asked, eyeing Mr. Carter who was already shaking his head. He knew me too well.

  “Oh, that would be too much,” the man said.

  “No worries,” Mr. Carter said as we walked toward the unnecessary limousine. “There is plenty of room.”

  After some convincing, they climbed into the limousine and I said goodbye, opting to take a cab instead.

  Time to face the future.

  ***

  We pulled up to my sister's obnoxiously huge house, a sigh leaving my lips at the sight of the perfectly kept yard and the realization that nothing had changed. I sat in the cab much longer than I should have, wondering how I would possibly survive in such a suffocating environment.

  “Is everything okay, Miss?”

  “Just not looking forward to being here.” I forced a smile.

  He gave me a compassionate look. “There’s a reason for everything, dear. Just remember that. It's what I always tell my kids and wife. We don't know why things happen or why we're put in uncomfortable situations, but I'm sure you'll handle it just fine.”

  I thanked him, taking out the money to pay along with his tip, and handed it to him. As I closed the door behind me, he called out for me.

  “This is too much money. I can’t take this.”

  “Take your family out!” I yelled back, tightening the coat around me. I'd forgotten just how cold it was during the winter. “Enjoy it!”

  I waved goodbye and walked up to the door, closing my eyes once in front of it. Everything was so…perfect. I shuddered at the thought of how monotonous their lives probably were.

  Nope. That won't be me.

  Right when I was about to knock, the door flew open and my breath caught in my throat. Nathan was standing there, his white shirt stained with several colors of paint, his brown hair a mess, and his gray-blue eyes staring at me in shock.

  He looked…different than I remembered. It was obvious the past three years hadn't passed in vain, but I could see the essence of him was still there. A smile crept across his face, the smile I remember he gave me the time we spoke before I left.

  “Where is Carter?” Were the first words he said, his deep voice resonating in my ears. He ran his colored hands through his hair, leaving streaks of yellow paint in it.

  Finally, I returned his smile and jumped into his arms, hugging the one friend I’d had all those years ago; the friend that despite being married to my sister, had always been patient and listened to me without judging.

  His arms wrapped around me, his chest shaking with laughter.

  Maybe life here wouldn't be so sucky after all.

  CHAPTER 2

  Evelyn

  “Are you going to tell me what you did to poor old Carter?” Nathan asked, breaking the hug.

  “Sent him on a mission.” I shrugged, walking past him and into the oh-so-plain house. It was so colorless, just white and boring. Lifeless, like my sister. “It's good to see you're still painting,” I said with a smile.

  “Why wouldn't I be?”

  “I thought my dad would have convinced you to join the company already,” I replied with a raised brow.

  Nathan shuddered at the mere mention of the company; he really hadn't changed.

  “It's good to have you back,” he said with a warm smile.

  “Good to know at least you think that.”

  I'm sure my sister won't.

  “Where's Hannah?”

  “Working.” Nathan rolled his eyes as he spoke, clearly not fond of my sister working so much.

  “You're off today?”

  “I'm home, so it sure seems that way.” I gasped at his sarcasm. That hadn't changed either.

  He'd grown up too. He was twenty-two when I left, and recently married to my sister. I shifted on my feet, realizing he was still looking at me intently.

  “What?” I asked. As confident as I was, being studied so carefully made me nervous, no matter who the person was.

  “I'm glad you're still the same girl that left,” he said.

  I didn't bother replying to him. Instead, I started my exploration of the house, even though I knew everything was probably exactly as it had been years ago. What I was looking for was Nathan's studio. I wanted to see what he had been working on. His sketches had always been amazing. I was truly excited to see how his style had changed. He'd sent me pictures of his art while I was away, but seeing them in person would be different.

  Knowing exactly what I was looking for, Nathan walked ahead with pride to his little hiding place.

  We ended up going to the backyard where there was a little house, one that wasn't there before. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

  “I built it. Hannah didn't want anything like this in the house, so to avoid issues, I decided to build my own studio.”

  Typical Hannah.

  When Nathan opened the door, I was met with an array of canvases, some halfway done, some which were obviously used to take out his frustration, but all of them equally breathtaking. I stood there in awe, taking in the sight in front of me.

  “Not bad,” I said, making no attempt to hide my admiration. “Were you working on something right now?” I asked him, eyeing one of the canvases that happened to have the same colors currently on his shirt. It was undecipherable, but still, the colors looked beautiful; the yellow and orange tones combining to look almost like a sunrise.

  “This is pretty amazing,” I murmured.

  Nathan didn't say anything and leaned against a desk, ruffling his hair once again.

  “You guys should frame some of these for the house,” I suggested. These would have surely helped to breathe some life into the dull place they called home.

  It made me proud to know he was still pursuing his dreams. Nathan didn't come from a family like mine. His parents had always been involved and encouraging, even after they met my sister and parents.

  “Has Hannah changed?” I asked, hoping the answer was “yes.”

  Nathan frowned. “Meaning?”

  “You know what I mean. Is she still prissy and obsessed with work? Or did she finally lighten up?”

  “Same Hannah,” he stated rather quietly, as if ashamed of admitting it.

  “Ah, my sister. I guess it won't ever happen.” I
sighed.

  With nothing else to say, we both stood in awkward silence. It wasn't my place to talk about my sister, especially not about her flaws to her husband. It would have been like bringing another problem to our already fragile family.

  “Are you busy?” The question brought Nathan out of whatever trance he'd fallen into, one in which he was most likely thinking about the endless problems I had yet to learn about.

  He shook his head, the spark that had been present in his eyes a few seconds ago now lost. “What are you thinking?”

  “I want to see Nana.”

  At the mention of her, his lips tilted up. “I'll go clean up and we can head out. I haven't seen the old lady in a few days.”

  “Awesome.”

  I stayed in his little studio while he changed and my fingers itched to mess with the paint lying around. Hoping I wouldn't get into trouble, I picked up a brush and dabbed it into a light blue color, putting it to a blank canvas.

  I can't paint for shit.

  Nevertheless, I painted God knows what on it, blending colors I wasn't even sure went well together. Dancing to the music playing in my head, running the brush over the canvas, I was careful not to make too much of a mess. I decided I would put my masterpiece in my room which would not be as boring as the rest of the house.

  I smiled when it was finished and at the end, I added an obnoxious smiley face right in the center. Absolutely not necessary, but it made me happy.

  Just as I was putting the brush in water, Nathan opened the door. He was all cleaned up now, no more paint lingering on his hair, his leather jacket fit him just as well as it did before. I knew he was married, that didn't make me blind. He was incredibly handsome with those breathtaking eyes and perfect jawline. The muscles helped too. And the hair, God, it looked so soft it made me want to run my hands through it.

  “Can't believe you still have it,” I said, walking past him.

  “Why wouldn't I? First gift after you got your first job.”

  I shook my head. That was a horrible job. That was how I learned I was definitely not meant to be a waitress. It didn't take long for me realize it, especially after I had dropped two orders during the first two hours on the job. Needless to say, by the end of the day, I was jobless. It was around Christmas time and the very little money I'd earned, I used to buy Nathan and Nana a gift. That had been when I was sixteen, right before I left.