Chapter 3 Cancelled Cards

Valerie stepped into her mansion, the sharp sounds of her designer heels echoing against the gleaming marble floor. What a day, she thought, taking in the soothing scent of lavender candles wafting through the air. It was a signature touch from her housekeeper, Mrs. Marshall, but tonight even that couldn't calm her irritation. She wasn't sure who had vexed her more: her father or the infuriating stranger at the boutique.

Lost in thought, Valerie strode past the dining room without a glance. Mrs. Marshall emerged from the kitchen, carefully setting down a plate on the already-prepared table.

"Dinner's ready, Miss Valerie," she said with her usual warm smile, straightening a napkin. "Your father stopped by earlier, and your friend Layla is upstairs. She arrived not too long ago."

Valerie barely slowed her pace; her tone clipped. "Not hungry," she said, heading for the staircase. "How long was my dad here?"

"Just a few minutes," Mrs. Marshall replied, handing her a brown envelope. "He asked me to give you this."

Valerie snatched the envelope, tearing it open. Mrs. Marshall hesitated, then ventured, "Rough day, Miss?"

Valerie sighed, her irritation barely contained. "The day's been awful, Mrs. Marshall. I'm sorry for snapping, but it feels like it couldn't possibly get worse."

As she climbed the stairs, faint music drifted down from her bedroom, mingled with Layla's carefree laughter. Valerie's annoyance flared anew. Bursting into the room, her gaze locked on Layla, who was twirling in front of the mirror, wearing one of Valerie's newly purchased dresses.

"Layla!" Valerie exclaimed, planting her hands on her hips.

Layla turned, feigning innocence. "Val, you never said I couldn't try it on," she teased, striking a playful pose.

Valerie folded her arms. "That's brand-new! I haven't even worn it yet." She tossed her purse onto the bed.

Layla rolled her eyes. "Relax, Valerie. You've got a whole wardrobe of unworn clothes. Besides, don't I look amazing?" She gave a mischievous twirl.

Valerie felt a hint of a smile tug at her lips, but still, she held her ground. "You can't just raid my stuff, Layla."

"Fine," Layla laughed, slipping out of the dress and tossing it onto a chair. "Now spill. what's with the mood?"

Valerie hesitated, then sank onto the bed with a weary sigh. "It's my dad," she muttered, her frustration bubbling over. "He's cut me off. Cancelled all my cards, won't answer my calls, and left me with this." She tossed the letter at Layla, who caught it mid-air.

Layla's eyebrows shot up while opening the letter. "Wait, seriously? Your dad cut you off?"

Valerie nodded miserably. "Yes. He said I need to 'become responsible,' or something equally ridiculous."

Layla, still glancing through the letter, looked at her friend with sympathy. "Wow. He literarily cut you off, That's... harsh."

"I know, right? And on top of that, I had an equally awkward situation, and I had to even involve Ramon somehow since Dad couldn't come through."

"No way! Ramon? Okay, this bad!" Layla exclaimed.

Ramon was the last person to get any sort of help, not after the messy breakup he had with Valerie. Layla knew this, hence her reaction.

"What did he ask for in return?" Layla asked, her tone sharp and inquisitive.

"We are yet to discuss that?" Valerie said, quite dismissively.

"And then, to make things worse," Valerie continued, her irritation rising again. "I went to get this necklace today, and some rude guy-some arrogant jerk-just shoves me aside and picks it up like he owns the place!"

"Oh no." Layla's mouth twitched as if trying not to laugh. "Who is this mystery man?"

"I don't even remember his name. I tried to buy it, but my dad's card declined, and he was just... there, watching me like I was some dumb dingbat in a clown show."

Layla stifled a laugh. "Okay, that's actually terrible. But come on, Val, you've handled worse."

Valerie looked away, blinking back the frustration that burnt in her eyes.

"Maybe I have, but it's just... different! Men fall at my feet! I have never been disrespected by any man in my entire life, but today I encountered this lunatic that had me feeling like a joke! You should have seen how he acted like he was talking to a peasant; I am No peasant! I am Valerie Davis! Nobody treats me like a pushover! And my dad adding salt to the injury got me feeling completely powerless, Layla. First my dad, then that insufferable man." Valerie ranted, almost choked with emotion.

"Slow down, baby." Layla sat down beside her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you're still Valerie Davis. You don't need all these negative energies. Have you tried calling your dad again?"

"He won't take my call," Valerie cooed.

"You know what? We will try again and dawn; do not let anybody make you feel less yourself or feel bad; you need to cheer up and let's go eat dinner; your housekeeper must have prepared something delicious," Layla said, trying to pull Valerie away from the bed.

A small smile crept onto Valerie's face. "You're right. I'm not letting anyone make me feel like this. Get dressed," she said, shaking off the mood. "We're going out. I need a drink, maybe three, and I need to forget all of this."

Layla grinned, leaping to her feet. "Now you're talking! But what about dinner?"

"Oh, please forget about dinner. Let's hit the club and dance all this drama away."