Read Chloe for Free Online Page A

clients.” With a playful smirk, “Not worth it.”
    “We really don’t have enough architects in this world to
meet the growing demands,” he tempts.
    “That’s your dream,” she reminds him. “I have ma’
own.” He gives her a certain look. She rolls her eyes, trying to suppress a
smile. “Can we go?” Having remembered their agenda, she checks the time and
adds, “Think we can make it?”
    “We’ll make it,” he assures. She believes him… until he
turns the key in the ignition. The car doesn’t respond. They exchange furtive
glances. James, looking sheepish, tries again, several times. The engine makes
a slew of clicking and clunking noises, but refuses to turn over. James laughs
nervously. He continues trying.
    •
    Meanwhile, at home, Cleopatra’s glass is empty again. She
tilts the cup from side to side, balancing it precariously on its bottom rim.
Her vacant eyes stare through the transparent glass into the hopeless void
beyond.
    It is moments like these, when Cleopatra is alone with her
thoughts, that she remembers all the things Patrick used to say to her. She
remembers the way he used to touch and dote on her. She never realized how much
his words of encouragement meant to her until they were gone. She wonders
halfheartedly if Patrick would be proud of her for surviving this long. If
nothing else, she is still alive.
    She immediately dismisses the notion with one glance around
the room. Their home is in shambles. Her daughter is headed for disaster. And
Cleopatra is an old, wrinkled husk of her former self. She is glad Patrick
cannot see her now. He wouldn’t even recognize her. She is the reflection of
clouds on a seamless lake that, while looks authentic, is not the real thing.
    Cleopatra settles back sinking into the thinly cushioned
couch that is so desperately in need of replacing. She lets her mind wander
into a fantasy land. She envisions what her life might be like if Patrick was
alive and they were married—just the two of them. She pictures how things might
be different if Patrick had lived and Chloe had died. It is a slippery slope
but she manages to maintain her footholds on the way up to her falsified
paradise.
    She imagines a life of luxury with fancy cars, expensive
clothes, and fine dining. She imagines a world where she is the center of
someone’s universe and cherished and cared for and loved. Cleopatra suspects
that Greg loves her, but not in the same way Patrick did. Greg’s love its
tainted, at the risk of sounding cliché. Greg’s love could much more accurately
be summed up in one word: lust. Everyone needs physical pleasure. Cleopatra
needs the emotional component more.
    In theory, Cleopatra could have been someone’s woman. She
could have pulled herself up by her boot straps and soldiered on through the
pain and purgatory. She could have said no to the alcohol and the drugs and all
manner of ways of making herself synthetically happy. But she didn’t. Instead
she chose to be someone’s one night stand. She chose to be someone’s back up
plan: a rebound girl.
    Feeling sorry for herself is nothing new for Cleopatra.
However these days she has come to realize that she has someone she can place
the mantle of blame on instead of herself. All this is Chloe’s fault and it
will remain Chloe’s fault.
    And Chloe should have to pay for it.
    Not her.
    •
    Eventually, the car starts. They breathe a collective sigh
of relief.
    James puts the car in gear. Wryly, “Don’t say it.”
    But she does. “You can do better than this piece of junk.”
He starts muttering to himself. The car peels out of the parking lot.
    James’ car pulls up to the curb of Firehouse Bar and Grill,
directly aligned with the front door. Chloe hurriedly takes her hair down. She
is about to get out, prepared to meet stage fright head on. Her hopes are
dashed as they watch the sign on the door window spin from open to closed. The
shutters are drawn. The inside does dark. Closing time. Chloe