To be fair, Angela had never been very patient with newcomers. Ever since she was a little girl, she would induct people into her little clique, shoving out whoever she decided was unworthy. With her head held high and a host of children and adults showering her with righteous praise, it was easy for her to slip into the role of leader. And such, growing up, Angela had no issue making friends, and anyone who she did not like or trust would instantly be blacklisted.

It had always worked well for her in the past...until she met a certain girl who had transferred to her private high school. Since the moment Angela laid eyes on that girl, she knew she was no good and had been proven right when she had not only stolen Angela's best friend but had roped her into a world of danger. One she had run away from the country to escape remembering.

Back then, Angela wished everyone had listened to her when she'd expressed her distrust of her. She wished they had at least put their faith in her instinct instead of the scathing, bitchy words Angela couldn't help but say. Maybe then, they all would have been saved the heartache and pain.

Not that any of them seem bothered by it now...

Angela tucked the thought to the back of her mind. There was no use thinking about Jessi. There was no use thinking about Anna or Dan, either. She was sure that whatever it was they were doing, they were happy and with each other. While she still could not escape the trauma of the past.

Instead, she focused on that bubbling instinct this time, unable to stop herself from glaring at the man positioned by the door. They were all sitting in the grand dining room, the long mahogany table laden with food yet remained untouched as they waited for her mother to arrive. Angela passed the time by glowering at Roger, who ignored her easily.

If only her father would trust what she said about this man, then they would all be fine. She knew that Roger was nothing but trouble, even if she could not tell what that was as yet.

Roger stood as still as a statue. His hands were clasped behind his back, his chin cocked upwards and his eyes leveled straight ahead. His face was devoid of any expression, seemingly so stalwart and assiduous that even Angela wondered if she had been fooled by this easygoing behavior. She dismissed the thought as soon as it came.

Yet, she couldn't stop herself from running her gaze down the length of him. She wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed it before, but he was truly well-built -- a man with broad shoulders and a clearly toned chest. She'd felt as much when he'd rescued her a year ago, but to see it despite -- or maybe, as a result of -- the black turtleneck sweater he wore made her swallow. She forcibly dragged her eyes back up to him and she could have sworn she caught him looking.

"Where is this damn woman?" came Stephen's voice suddenly, laced with anger. He tapped his finger against the white tablecloth, the thumping sound muffled through the fabric. 

Angela turned her attention to her clearly irritated father. "I don't even understand why you wanted her to eat with us anyway. I've been gone for a year, Daddy and this will be our first dinner together in a long time. It should have just been just us."

"You know your mother," Stephen grumbled as he leaned back in his chair. "She's too damn stubborn and it makes her dumb. If I want to get her used to have cordial dinners with us for optics, then I'm going to have to fool her into thinking it'll be a normal thing from now on."

"I don't know, Daddy," Angela said, taking a sip of her water. She glanced at Roger again to see that he hadn't moved an inch. Maybe I saw wrong? "She isn't as stupid as you think she is," Angela went on. "She did manage to get nearly a third of your wealth after the divorce, after all."

"Don't remind me."

Angela was no stranger to optics. So she didn't bother to express her own discontent with her mother's presence, though the thought of having to be around her for long made her stomach churn.

Suddenly, Roger moved. Angela's eyes darted to him, tensing. She gripped the table, ready to spring out of the seat as if something terrible was about to happen.

But he only stepped to the side, out of the way of the door right before it opened and Helman walked in. Angela released the breath she had been holding. How did he know Helman was coming?

I'm too jumpy. I need wind down after all this.

Helman stayed by the door and bowed low. "Forgive the intrusion. Miss Brenda will be joining you shortly."

"And by shortly, he means right now!" Brenda swept into the room wearing a dazzling pink dress that slid along her curves and brushed the ground. She lifted her arms in a flourish as she glided over to her seat, grinning broadly.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Stephen asked. "You do know there isn't going to be any press here, right?"

Brenda looked around the room with wide eyes as if she was just not realizing that it was just them. "Why not? I thought that when you asked me to come and eat with you, it would be in front of an audience."

Angela kept silent even as her father released a frustrated breath. "What kind of audience did you expect? I only just announced to my own family that I'll be running for president and you want me to invite journalists into my home hours later?"

"I know how these things work, Stephen," Brenda said with a shrug.

"No, mother. You don't."

Brenda looked at Angela. Her eyes sparkled with excitement when she did. "Damn, Angela, you're looking fine!"

"Don't speak like that."

"Sorry. I thought that was how you kids talk nowadays."

Angela decided not to answer. Just as she had expected, having dinner with her mother was bound to drain her. She looked at Stephen and said, "May we begin now?"

Stephen shared her look, then nodded. "We might as well. Helman?"

Right on cue, Helman stepped up to light the candles. Dinnertime at the Staton mansion when they had been a real family -- in the legal sense, at least -- had been a formal affair. Even though Angela turned her nose up at Brenda's loud dressing, she herself had chosen to wear a simple form-fitting black dress with short sleeves and a deep neckline. She'd spent nearly an hour in front of the mirror working on her curls and her very light makeup.

Helman always stood by while they ate, carrying dishes from one end of the grand table to whoever needed it. It was always far too much food for just them, but ANgela had made sure that what was leftover never went to waste. If it didn't go to the servants of the mansion and their families, then it went to homeless shelters as well. Though, that was a fact only Helman knew.

Once their butler was finished with the candles, the lights were turned off and Stephen began with a short prayer. It only lasted a few seconds, a matter of custom rather than anything else. Finally, they were allowed to eat.

Of course, Brenda waited until then to start talking again. "When will you be announcing your campaign, Stephen?"

"Within two days."

"Will we be there?" she asked instantly. "I suppose there must be a dress code. And maybe they'll want to hear from me as well, as your wife. You know how this country is all about familial support."

"Anything you want to know, my secretary will tell you."

Angela hid her smile. That was clearly her father's way of trying to get Brenda to stop asking him questions while trying not to be rude as well. Considering how they spoke with each other this morning, Angela guessed that was a great improvement. Even though she had no doubt her father still hated Brenda's guts.

"Daddy, I have a question," Angela spoke up. She rested her cutlery on the plate and dapped at her mouth with a napkin before continuing. "How do you plan to address the question of us as a family? Your divorce was pretty public and now that you're planning to run for president, people are going to be warier about the things you do and say. They're going to think you're only doing this to get their trust and votes, which is the truth."

Stephen looked up at him. Angela smiled when she saw the pride shining in his eyes. "A smart question, Angela. And you're right. People are going to think like that, or worse. Which is why what I say will mean little if we do not look like a family. So, I do not intend to announce until some time has passed. And we'll present ourselves before the media and let them take care of the rest."

"Makes sense," Angela said with a nod. "What about your other wives?"

"Already taken care of," Stephen said with a grin.

Angela wasn't sure what that meant, but she was certain it involved a lot of money. "Okay, then I have one last question. What's my role in all of this?"

"You don't have to do anything but continue doing what you're doing. You don't get in trouble anyway, so I don't have to worry. Just be there when you're needed and then you're free to do whatever."

"I don't get in trouble, but I have a feeling trouble is beginning to follow me." She looked at Roger when she said those words. He didn't move. Not even a shadow of a smirk, which she had expected.

Frowning, she returned her attention to her food. Is he really here to protect us as he said?

No, it can't be. There has to be more to it than this. This can't just be a coincidence!

Brenda took control of the conversation after that. This really meant she jabbered on and on about useless things, trying to get Angela and Stephen to join in, but to no avail. Angela ignored her desperate attempts to get on her good side and simply waited for dinner to be over, keeping an eye on Roger the entire time. He didn't move.

When dessert was finished, Helman turned on back the lights and began blowing out the candles. Stephen did another short prayer of thanksgiving and then servants began streaming out from the door that led to the kitchen to clean up everything. 

Angela rose and began making her way to the door. The closer she got to Roger, the more she studied him, trying to find a kink in the mask hse wore and then swore under her breath when there was none.

There was no use overthinking it now. It's already nighttime. Angela wanted to get a quick workout in and then crawl into bed. It had been a long day.

She changed into her dance clothes, collected her things, and left the manor, making her way to the black car that was waiting for her. She half expected Roger to materialize out of nowhere the whole time, but she didn't see him. Angela didn't know whether to be grateful for that.

The ride to the dance studio was a short one, but it had her thrumming with excitement. The last time she'd had a late-night practice in, she'd been kidnapped, but Angela wasn't going to focus on that. She focused instead on the pleasure she got out of these practices, and how happy she was to have the kiss of the cold air on her sweaty skin when it was all over. It always felt like a job well done.

In the time she was gone, she almost expected the studio to be different. So much had changed since her kidnapping that it felt odd that this safe haven of hers had remained the same. She smiled as she ran her hand along the wall while the entered, and breathed a sigh of relief at the large empty space facing the wall of mirrors.

To make matters even better, there was only one person inside. She wasn't in the mood for interaction.

She bumped her bag over to the side and made her way over to the computer in the corner, ignoring the other person in the room. She scrolled through the list of songs she liked to dance to, trying to settle on one.

"Having issues?"

Angela glanced up. She realized the person was a guy, dressed in baggy shorts and a loose tank top that was soaked with sweat. He came over to her and instantly popped his head into her personal space as he looked at the screen.

"I was pretty confused myself when I just came here," he said. "But it's pretty simple. Everything is already hooked up too so all you need to do is--"

"I already know how this works," Angela snapped. She pushed him away, resuming her task.

"Oh, you do? My bad. When you came in you were looking around as if it was the first time you'd seen the place so I just thought."

Angela looked at him, really studying him this time. He was tall, a bit on the lanky side, but had bright green eyes and shaggy brown hair. When he caught her staring, he gave her a wide lopsided grin that instantly made him look more cute than handsome. 

"Name's Jackson," he said, sticking a hand out. "What's your name?"

Angela looked down at the hand then returned her attention to the computer screen. "Angela."

"Nice, pretty name you got there. You come here often, Angela?"

"Often enough."

"Well, then that means I should be seeing you around a lot then, huh? Great. It's always nice to have another pretty face around."

Unable to focus, Angela turned towards him, not bothering to conceal her annoyance. "Look, you were about to leave, weren't you? Then leave. You're bothering me and I came here to relax. Not to be irritated."

Jackson raised his hand in surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it." But that grin of his never fell. "I know when I'm not wanted. I'll get out of your hair, Angela, but be sure to hail me when you see me around, okay? See ya!"

With that said, Jackson jogged over to his bag, heaved it onto his shoulder, and then sent Angela a salute. Then he made his way out of the studio. Angela watched him go before returning her attention to the computer. She finally settled on a song and went to the stand in the center of the room for her cue.

She put Jackson, Roger, Brenda, and her father's announcement to the back of her mind, and for the next few hours, Angela knew nothing but the music.

***

Hi guys, I hope you enjoyed! Do you like Jackson so far?