Chapter 2

Over the weekend, I headed back home for my grandpa's 80th birthday party.

I showed up in a red dress with spaghetti straps, full-on makeup, and four-inch heels.

If I were going to die soon anyway, I might as well go out looking vibrant.

At the party, my relatives were shooting me all kinds of looks.

My aunt, Gloria Knight, was the first to speak up. "Celine, that dress... isn't it a bit much? You look like you're dressed for a nightclub."

If it were the old me, I would've just lowered my head, apologized, and tried to find an excuse to change.

But now, I raised my cup and took a sip of coffee.

I said, "Aunt Gloria, your son racked up 70,000 dollars in debt from those online lenders last month. Did he pay it off yet? Maybe worry about that instead of my dress."

Gloria's face instantly went pale.

Renee Baker, another aunt of mine, chimed in, "Celine, that's no way for a girl to talk. We only mean well."

I laughed, "Mean well? Aunt Renee, you borrowed 10,000 dollars from my family last year for your son's car. Did you ever pay it back? Want to settle that right now, in front of everyone?"

Renee fell silent.

My mom tugged at my sleeve and hissed, "You little troublemaker, what nonsense are you spouting?"

I pulled my arm away.

My cousin, Jessica Knight, said sarcastically, "Celine, did you pick up bad habits in the city? Still single, huh? You know, someone like you doesn't get many chances once you hit a certain age."

I stood up and walked right up to her.

I didn't hesitate. I slapped her right across the face.

The whole table went dead silent.

Jessica clutched her face, staring at me in disbelief.

I picked up the glass of red wine and poured it all over her brand new white dress.

"Whether I get chances or not is none of your damn business," I said, my voice icy. "Say one more word, and next time, the wine goes straight to your face."

Grandpa slammed his hand on the table. "This is outrageous!"

I looked at him and smiled, "Grandpa, you never really cared about me. Remember when I got into college? You said it was a waste, that I didn't need an education. Well, look at me now. This girl you never believed in has more guts than all the grandkids you actually care about. Put together."

With that, I grabbed my bag and walked out.

A chorus of curses followed me as I left.

My mom ran after me, crying out, "Are you crazy? How are we supposed to hold our heads up after this?"

I turned around. "Mom, I have terminal cancer. I have just six months left. You can either start treating me better now, or when I'm gone, there won't even be anyone left to mourn for me."

She stood there, stunned.

Right after, my dad called, and the first thing out of his mouth was, "Lester wants a new phone. It's 1,200 dollars. Send the money now."

I shot back, "Dad, I'm dying. I need to save my money for my own grave. You always loved him more, right? Let him be the one to take care of you when you're old."

Then I blocked him everywhere.

As soon as I got in the car, my whole body was trembling. It wasn't fear. It was pure excitement.

Turned out, rebelling felt incredible.

*****

On Monday, I handed in my resignation letter.

Peter Woods, the administrative manager, glared at me. "Celine, have you lost your mind? Don't want to work here anymore?"

"No, I don't want to work here anymore," I replied.

"You think you can just walk away from Carter Holdings like that? There's a penalty for breaking your contract..."

"Whatever," I cut him off. "By the time the legal process starts, I might not even be around anymore."

Peter was left speechless.

I went straight upstairs and placed the resignation letter on the secretary's desk outside the CEO's office. "Please pass this to Mr. Carter."

As I turned to leave, the secretary's intercom buzzed.

"Let her in." Keith's voice came through the speaker, icy and distant.

I pushed the door open and walked in.

Keith sat behind his enormous desk, sunlight pouring in from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. Silhouetted against the light, he looked like a judge passing sentence.

"Explain," he said, slapping the resignation letter onto the desk.

"I just don't want to work here anymore. Isn't that reason enough?" I said.

"No," he replied.

I laughed, "Mr. Carter, I slept with you and even mocked your performance. Doesn't it bother you to keep me around?"

He stood up, walked around the desk, and slowly approached me, step by step.

I backed away instinctively until my waist hit the cold wall.

He planted his hands on either side of me, caging me in.

He was so close that I could catch the clean cedar scent on him and see my small reflection in his eyes.

"You think you can just sleep with me and then bolt?" His voice was low and rough, like sandpaper scraping against my ears. "It's not that easy."

"So what, you want to accuse me of assault?" I tilted my head back, staring him down without a hint of fear. "Mr. Carter, got any proof? Besides, I'm dying anyway. Prison won't even bother with someone like me."

He stared at me, his gaze so intense that I couldn't figure him out.

Then, he snatched the resignation letter from my hand and ripped it in half.

"You're not quitting," he said. "You're not leaving Carter Holdings until I say so."

"And what gives you the right?" I shot back.

"Because I'm Keith Carter. That's all the reason you need," he replied.

He walked back behind his desk and pressed the intercom. "Move Celine to a new role. From today, she's my personal assistant."

I was stunned.

His personal assistant?

Everyone in the company knew Keith never took on female assistants, especially not someone with a history like mine.

"Mr. Carter, this isn't right..." I started.

"Take the position, or I'll make sure you're done in this business for good," he said, glancing up at me. "Your choice."

I clenched my jaw. "Fine. I'll take it."

With only six months left, what difference did it make where I spent them?