la bound

"I'll miss you, honey!"

I rolled my eyes at the annoying sound

of my mother's voice claiming she would

miss me. She would only miss me

because I was the one who did the

chores and the cooking.

"Yeah, see you."

With that, I ignored my mother's pout,

grabbed my luggage and walked over to

security. I know it's rude but whatever.

My mother didn't care about anything

other than herself. If she cared for me as

well, she would have gotten a better job

than the hot secretary, Miss Campbell, at

my high school and stopped flirting with

my classmates.

That was why I had to do this, to help

myself achieve my goal – getting into

Harvard. Harvard was my dream college

because not only was it an Ivy League,

but because my father went there. I

hardly remember him, but I know he

was intelligent and caring – nothing like

my mother. But he had died when I was

six and since then I had started my

lonely life.

After collecting my duffel bag and

putting my shoes back on, I walked

away from security. To kill time, I sat on

a bench and took out a book I packed –

The Shining by Stephen King. It was an

hour before I could clamber onto the

plane – to me it felt like forever, though.

Steve had booked me a first class seat,

but it was a shame I was planning on

sleeping the whole plane ride so I

couldn't admire all facilities I was able to

use. Once I took my seat in the

comfortable leather seat, I leaned my

head against the palm of my hand,

closed my eyes and let myself escape

reality.

* * *

When I had finally woken up, the plane

was landing at LAX. I looked out of the

window of the plane to see sunshine

and smiled. I couldn't wait to see Los

Angeles. I barely ever travelled, since my

mother didn't care about what I wanted.

Once we landed and I finally was able to

hop out from the stupid plane, I

searched for Steve. I hadn't seen him in

three years, since he had become so

busy with being a manager for

celebrities.

The crowd was thick so I did the thing I

see all the times in movies – I stepped

onto a nearby seat and stood up, so I

could see over the crowd better. People

stared at me and I ignored them.

"Lainie!"

Turning around at the sound of my

name being called, I found my uncle. He

still looked the same. It's probably the

'Campbell never-aging and always

looking beautiful gene.'

"Hey Steve."

"Great to see you, Lainie!"

He opened his arms wide for a bear hug

and I laughed. After we let go, Steve

smiled and grabbed my luggage, so I

was only left holding my duffel bag.

Ok then.

"You're getting taller," he observed.

I frowned. I was one of the shortest

people in my grade since I was quite

petite. "I know I'm short, you don't need

to lie."

Steve laughed. "Well, you are short, but

before you were no higher than my

shoulder."

We continued to catch up as we walked

out of LAX. The sun burned brightly and

the heat was suffocating. When we

arrived at his car, I raised an eyebrow – a

sleek, black, Mercedes Benz C-Class

Sedan.

"Nice car," I say, tilting my head and

assessing it.

"Thanks." Steve grinned and slid in. I got

in too, feeling very uncomfortable. I

didn't want to ruin anything. It was just

so … clean.

I was used to the old aqua Corolla my

mother and I shared. He turned up the

radio and we sang along to 80's music.

Yes, that was one thing we had in

common – loving 80's music.

The car ride was cheery and fun and he

took me along a little tour of Beverly Hills,

down Rodeo Drive. We passed

celebrities homes including Jennifer

Aniston, George Clooney, Janet Jackson

and one of my favourite comedians,

Eddie Murphy. I admired the structures

of their mansions and even wrote down

some ideas for my designs in my

notebook (to which Steve laughed at).

After the tour, I sensed we were near

Henry Parker's home.

"Lainie," Steve said, pointing up ahead.

"There's the house you'll be staying from

now on."

I looked up, out of the window and the

sun was setting. Streams of light shone

onto the large white mansion where I

was staying at.

The driveway was huge and it was

paved around a large fountain, where

water poured out of a frog's mouth. The

front door had a stained glass panel and

two pot plants sat next to the large

marble columns on the front porch.

As Steve opened the imposing gates to

the mansion, I gawked. I couldn't believe

I was staying in a mansion.

After parking the car in front of the

porch, we hopped out and dragged my

luggage to the door. Steve fished out a

set of keys from his pocket and

unlocked the front door. He flicked on

the lights to reveal the inside – shiny

tiled floors, high ceilings with golden

chandeliers, and pearl-coloured walls.

The windows down the hallway were

large, clear and white-paned. It showed

a great view of the backyard, where a

curved shaped pool sat, sparkling. There

were trees and pot plants too, with dark

brown resting chairs and white large

umbrellas for shade.

The house was so beautiful. If the house

was this beautifully decorated, the

owner must be a good person. I felt

slightly better at the thought.

"Henry!" Steve yelled. "Get your butt

down here!"

I flinched as I realised I was going to

meet the guy I would have to pretend to

be engaged to for the next few months.

Steve told me to leave my bags by the

door and led me to the lounge room to

my right. The lounge was spacious and

quite modern, with the sleek LCD

hanging on the wall and the U shaped

leather sofa. God, the room was bigger

than the kitchen and lounge room back

put together back at home!

I took a seat with Steve and as he

started talking about the fake

engagement, I heard a voice behind me

say, "So you're my fake fiancée."