Page 12 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire

“She will also need to appear before a judge for community service. Will you make sure that she attends?”

I nodded. There was no way of forcing the woman to go but I would try.

“Right this way please.” The officer ushered me to go and make the payment in the back.

All I could think about was my hard earned money down the drain. I had been saving up for a trip to go to Europe. I wanted to finally chase my dream and study art in Italy. I was half way to my goal but with paying my mother’s bail set me back another few months.

Painting had been a passion of mine for a long time. I knew it wasn’t a practical career choice so I never ventured down that path.

After all the money had been sorted I waited for my mother outside the precinct. I didn’t know how to feel about all of this. I hadn’t seen this woman in over a year. Had she gotten clean? Well, judging by her current charge I was guessing that she was anything but clean.

Human excrements? Really mother?

After a few more minutes in the cool Chicago air a woman who looked similar to my mother walked out.

Her once red hair which I had inherited was dyed black. She looked skinnier than I remembered, a lot skinnier. I wondered if she was eating wherever she had been.

I looked down at her fingers and didn’t see a wedding band.

“Look at you!” She smiled wide and that’s when I noticed how yellow her teeth were. The clothes she wore drowned her and her hair looked like she had a few animals living in there.

What had happened to my mother.

When she had left she was on the mend. She had been six months clean and even had a job at Moe’s Diner in downtown Chicago.

“Hey mom,” I wound my hands around her frail body. When I pulled away I took the chance to look at her. Really look at her. “How have you been?”

She waved me off. “You know me. Always adventuring and what not. You still working at the fancy retail store?”

I shook my head. “No. I work as a nanny now.”

“No shit?” I could see from her eyes just how dilated her pupils were. She was high. “So what? You take care of a bunch of babies?”

“Just one. His name is Michael. I work for the Farrington family.”

“Farri—what?”

“Farrington. They are a really wealthy family that own a lot of—never mind. You must be hungry. Let’s go home, mom.”

“I could eat.” She shrugged.

I helped her to my car and drove away from the police station. The entire drive to my apartment I kept stealing glances at my mother every so often.

“So you got money now.” She looked around my apartment, touching all my little decorations and flowers.

“No I don’t.” I continued to work on her sandwich by the kitchen island. “I’m just smart with my money. There’s a difference.”

It was modest at best. It was a small one bedroom apartment in Wellington. It was close enough to work that I didn’t get stuck in traffic for too long. The rent was an arm and a leg but it was worth it.

She sat on the couch and flipped through Netflix.

“You’re married?” It had been a question that had been bothering me the entire ride back.

“Who told you that?” She didn’t look my way.

“The officer who detained you.”

“Oh yeah,” she finally looked my way. “She’s a real bitch that one.”

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