The My Father's Best Friend story is currently published to Chapter 53: Holly Intervention and has received very positive reviews from readers, most of whom have been / are reading this story highly appreciated! Even I'm really a fan of Internet, so I'm looking forward to Chapter 53: Holly Intervention. Wait forever to have. @@ Please read Chapter 53: Holly Intervention My Father's Best Friend by author Internet here.
Andrea woke up to the sound of her doorbell ringing.
She stretched and sat up, saying a little something for Lance as she did so and remembered how her father stayed with her until she fell asleep.
Her attention was caught by a sticky note stuck on her lampshade.
It reads:
'Good morning dear, I stayed over by the way. I want to have breakfast with you, but I got to go home. I'm sorry. I love you.
P.S.: Lance is not dead, okay?'
She smiled. A small note of affection and a small reminder that Lance is still alive and will be kicking is a great start for her day.
"I love you too, dad," she murmured to the air.
The doorbell rang again.
Andrea sighed.
"I'm coming,"
She grabbed her robe and put it on her way to her door, all the while thinking who the morning visitor might be.
"Good Morning!" a woman dressed up in jeans and tee with an expressionless yellow circle face, holding a paper bag of food that smells like pancakes, bacon and eggs, muffins and coffee.
Andrea finds her face familiar, but she can't quite point out who she might be.
"Excuse me but who are you?" Andrea asked.
The woman's face, a beautiful one with stunningly unique set of violet eyes and features saying she's somewhere near her age, seemed shock with her question.
"You don't know me?" the woman said.
"I'm sorry but the only women I know with violet eyes are Elizabeth Taylor and..."
Andrea's eyes widened as she looked the girl up: red hair, pale skin and violet eyes.
"You're Ariadne Rosefield," she said, shocked.
"That I am," the woman said with a smile.
Andrea do not know Ariadne personally nor anyone of her friends but she's a tough one not to recognize on the first, or in Andrea's case, second look.
Ariadne was always on the papers these days, being the only heiress to an up-and-coming restaurant tycoon and farm owner and also a scandalous woman.
"Why are you here?" Andrea asked.
"Uhm, well I just figured, being slapped by your mother in public and making it to the cover page isn't exactly the best thing in the world right now," she answered.
"That was on the news?" Andrea asked, again.
"Oh yes, but before you bombard me with any more questions, will you let me in? I bought breakfast, and well maybe some paps had followed me and now they are assuming I went to grab a breakfast for my secret boyfriend who I keep on this luxurious condominium," Ariadne said.
"Oh yes, yes," Andrea opened the door wider and let Ariadne in.
"If they are spreading rumors about you, why won't you stop them, maybe file a lawsuit?" Andrea inquired as she led Ariadne to her kitchen.
"Wow, nice condo - to answer your question," Ariadne started, putting the bag on the breakfast bar, "Filing a lawsuit would be totally expensive and totally stupid. I mean, if you file a lawsuit against paparazzi’s, you are not allowing them to intrude in your life and make awful stories about it, making them lose a source of income that may lead to their bankruptcy and can also affect the US economy," she answered.
"Well, I really don't actually care about their bankruptcy, all I care about is the waste of money a lawsuit can make," she shrugged.
"Ohhh kay," was all Andrea could say as she unpacked Ariadne's package.
"I'm sorry I'm so talkative, I haven't been able to talk to someone who is not plastic and is not my dad or my step-mom for quite a while now," she said as she sat down.
"You think I'm not plastic?" Andrea asked as she got both of them a plate and eating utensils.
"Well, you've got a lot of things going on with your life to even bother doing so, so yeah, I think you're not plastic," Ariadne answered.
Andrea smiled, "Thanks,"
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: My Father's Best Friend