Naomi...

"You're back," my father smiled as we walked through the door.

My sister, Brodrick, and I had landed an hour ago from our trip to New York and decided to check on Dad in the office before we got home.

"How was New York?" He asked.

"It was great!" My sister said. "Had a blast."

Of course she did. For the three days we were there, she was barely at the hotel.

My dad turned to me waiting for an answer.

"It was, meh," I answered.

"What? You didn't have any fun?"

"Nope."

"Noelle you said you would make sure she had some fun."

"I tried Dad," my sister answered, "but she never wanted to go anywhere with us."

"So you and Brodrick left her alone and went out?" He asked and my sister bowed her head in shame.

"Dad it's fine, the places they were going to weren't my vibe anyway," I said, "I got to spend a day with grandma though, so that was great."

"How is she doing?" He asked.

"Being a fighter as always," I answered and he nodded.

"So," he looked at my sister and Brodrick, "How did the mission go?"

I squinted at the three of them. What mission? We went to New York on a mission? What was going on in the campaign that required a mission? That's when the possibility of it being about me and Brodrick came to mind. Did they really think that taking me to a whole new state would change anything? I rolled my eyes.

"There was a setback," my sister answered and my father didn't seem too pleased with that outcome.

"But we're still working on it," Brodrick butted in.

"The door is still open for possibilities," My sister added.

Maybe this wasn't about me and Bridrick, because my dad seemed a bit more pissed than usual. Then again, he has been on edge since he decided to run for Senate.

"How's the campaign going Dad?" I asked. "Is there anything for me to do?"

Being the communications coordinator for the campaign was a lot of work, and I honestly didn't want to do it. But my dad wanted everyone in our family to be a part of it and this job, at the time, seemed like the easiest.

"Things have been a little quiet here, but it's about to get hectic," he answered. "There's a few things that you need to do. I emailed it to you, so you can check it tomorrow morning."

I nodded and I watched as he collapsed on the couch in this office.

"Maybe it's time for you to go home Dad," I said. "It looks like you need some sleep."

"Yeah Dad. We can all take a break for the rest of the night and start again tomorrow."

"No," he shook his head then sighed, "I have way too much to do."

Terrence Washington was the hardest-working man I know. And from the stories I heard from my mom, he was always like that. My dad grew up in the Bronx at a time when things were pretty bad there. He didn't grow up in the best home, financially, but his mother always made sure that they were taken care of and that they were at school. She always said that school was the only way they could get out. My dad believed that to the core and worked his ass off. He wanted better for his current and future family and wouldn't stop until he got it.

He studied political science, then law. He was always at the top of his class. He eventually married his high school sweetheart, my mom, and then moved here to Maine where he and my mother started their new life. He worked in one of the top law firms for a while before he somehow found himself on the prestigious Young family's Legal team. There was a huge falling out with them at one point and my father got fired. He doesn't really talk about what happened, but from that day on, according to my mother, he had a certain hatred for that family. What made it worse was that they made it hard for him to get hired after he was fired. Years later, even when he did get a job, he somehow always found himself under their thumb.

He grew tired and decided he would beat them at their own game. So when he heard that Anthony Young was running for senator, he decided to do the same.

Though the campaign had just been going for a few months, he was already gaining some ground. Turns out there were a lot of people who wanted to kick the Young family down a peg or two. Now, with the growing support, he was willing to work as hard as he could. He was even considering playing dirty and digging up secrets to use against them.

The reach of the Young family had gone far and deep. I had to admit that they needed to lose some of that power they had. But my dad's hatred was starting to take over, and I was afraid this would backfire on him in the end.

"Well, you can stay here if you want," I said, "I'm going home."

"Me too," my sister added.

"No you're not," he said to her. "We need to talk some more about your trip." He then turned to Brodrick, "Why don't you drop Naomi off on your way home? You'll come back and join this discussion."

Brodrick nodded.

"Dad, I can get myself home," I said.

"Nonsense! He wants to take you home, let him," my dad gave a knowing smile, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him.

I sighed in defeat and walked up to my father, "Goodnight dad," I kissed his cheek and walked out of the office, with Brodrick close behind.

I kept my head forward as I walked, not wanting to look in his direction. I already had enough of the flirting in New York and I didn't want to deal with any more of it.

Once outside we got into his car and were off. I put my headphones in my ear, hoping he understood the international "don't speak to me sign".

Brodrick was a nice enough guy, but like I've told everyone before, he was not the one for me. He was very smart, and intelligent without a doubt. He was a very handsome, well-put-together guy. All those were things I was definitely into and looked for in a partner. So why wasn't I dating him? It's a really simple answer really. It was all for looks. On paper, we made the perfect couple. The successful black couple who would no doubt have successful black babies. We were supposed to be the new Barack and Michelle. And as awesome as those things were, I didn't want that to be the reason someone wanted to be with me.

Brodrick didn't like Naomi, the smart, creative girl. He wanted the possible future Senator's daughter that would make him look good. I didn't want to be a part of that.

It didn't take long for us to get to my house. I pulled the earbuds out of my ear and turned to him.

"Thanks for the ride," I said and went to open the car door.

He grabbed my arm, holding me back.

"Can I ask you something?"

Oh great!

"Uh, sure," I answered.

"As you know, next week is the Winston Charity Gala, and I would really appreciate it if you came along with me as my date," he said.

"I'm sorry, I can't," I answered.

"Why not?"

"One, I promised Celeste I'll be her date to the gala. And two, I've already said that I have no interest in dating you, so there's nothing more I'm going to say about it."

With that, I got out of the car and headed to the gate. I didn't bother turning around to hear if he had anything to say.

I opened the gate, closed it behind me, and headed up the brick driveway. Once I entered the house, I quickly headed up the large staircase and to my room.

Our house wasn't a mansion like the other houses in our neighborhood, but it was quite large. We had enough space for a 4-person family and a lot more.

Once in my room, I headed over to my laptop and turned it on. I got out of my clothes and looked around for something to do while the computer booted up. It was then that I realized that I left my suitcase in Brodrick's car. Great, now I'll have to talk to him again. I could call him back to drop it off, but after that conversation, I don't think he'd want to talk to me. Well, I hope so. I grabbed my phone and shot a text to Noelle, telling her to get my suitcase from him. After about 2 attempts of a level of candy crush on my phone, my laptop was ready. I went through the files and opened the document I needed.

I stared at the mostly blank page. All that was on it was "CHAPTER 1". I lightly placed my fingers on the keys, waiting for some inspiration to hit, but nothing came. I guess a trip to New York wasn't a long enough break. I had been stuck for the past month, and I hated it. It shouldn't be this hard to come up with the first line of a novel.

Writing was a passion of mine. One I couldn't live without. What started out as Jonas Brothers and NCIS Tiva fanfiction turned into a whole lifestyle. Was I some famous writer yet? Well, no. If we're talking about Novelscape though, then yes. I started writing my fanfiction there and slowly started getting popular. When I started writing regular romance novels, I got even more popular. But what set me over the edge was the somewhat classy Erotica I wrote. I dabbled in it once and it blew up. Though I still write romance and fantasy, Erotica in any form was where it was at for me.

My little fame was something I was extremely proud of, but it was something I had to hide. Years ago I told my dad I wanted to be a writer. But Terrance Washington's daughter deserved more than JUST a writing career and he pushed me towards law instead. When he found a random chapter I wrote in my book with a rather intense risqué scene when was 19, he forbade me from writing, saying his daughter would not be out in the world writing porn.

From then on I've been hiding it from most of my family. It was the only way I could do what I love without disappointing my dad.

There was a knock on my door that pulled me from my thoughts.

"Come in," I said.

My mother opened the door and peeked in. "How was New York?" She asked.

"It was ok," I said dryly.

"It was that bad huh?" She walked in and sat on the bed.

"Not really, but it wasn't particularly fun," I explained. "Your other daughter had the time of her life though."

"As expected," she chuckled, "Where is she anyway?"

"Had some meeting with Dad," I said.

"About what?"

"I have no idea. Didn't care to ask."

"That man can not take a break," she sighed, "he's gonna drop from exhaustion one of these days."

"That's true," I chuckled.

"How's mom?" She asked, "Is she really as good as she keeps saying? Cause if she's not I'll be over there in a heartbeat."

"She's fine Mom," I said, "Still holding on. Has a lot of energy for a sick woman in her 70s."

"I still hope she's resting though," she said worriedly.

"She's fine," I assured.

My mother, like my dad, grew up in the Bronx. She was a bit better off than my dad was, but that didn't mean they didn't struggle. Just like my dad she wanted more for herself and got a degree in education and started teaching. She's still a teacher to this day. She was big on education for her daughters. She didn't care what we were studying as long as we were in school and learning.

"Still stuck?" She asked, pointing at my blank page.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"No inspiration in New York?"

"Not one," I said. "You would think the exciting state of New York would have some kind of inspiration-provoking event somewhere."

"Well, maybe you need a longer break. Something that takes your mind off writing completely," she advised.

"Maybe," I said.

Not writing for a long time seemed scary to me, but maybe it was something my brain needed.

My mother was the only person in my family who still knows I write. She wasn't particularly pleased with her daughter writing such lewd scenes, but once she read the whole book and not just the nasty stuff, she was thoroughly impressed and even encouraged me to write more. Having her support meant more than I think she even realizes.

"So, about the Gala," she began.

"Mooom!" I groaned, throwing my head back in annoyance.

"You have to go, Naomi," she said, "Your father needs your support."

"I know, but I hate going to these things," I said.

"So do I, but I have to support my husband," she said, "You have a fitting for your dress tomorrow at five. Would you be able to make it?"

"I guess," I shrugged.

She shook her head at my antics. "Maybe you'll have some fun this time."

"The only time I ever have fun is when Celeste is there. And thank god she's coming to this one."

"So you don't have a date?"

"God no," I said.

"So no one asked?"

"Never said that."

My mother's eyes lit up, "Who asked?"

"Who do you think?" I said annoyed.

She shook her head at me again, "Naomi, Brodrick is an amazing guy."

"Sure," I said, not in the mood to deal with the Brodrick praise.

"You should call him and tell him you changed your mind."

"Mooom!" I groaned.

"Ok, fine," she raised her hand in defeat and then got up from my bed, "I'll leave you to write."

She headed to the door and pulled the door behind her. "There's food in the refrigerator if you get hungry," she said through the crack of the door.

"Ok," I answered less annoyed.

"Goodnight," she smiled.

"Goodnight Mom," I said, finding it hard not to smile back.

And with that, she closed the door and headed down the hall.

I turned back to my computer and back at the screen. The anxiety of the writer's block had hit again. This was going to be a long, probably unproductive night.