"Lillian, dear. I promised your dad I'd have you ready in 30 minutes." Miss Aird yelled from outside my locked door.

I stuck out my tongue in hard concentration, applying the perfect amount of pressure with my paint brush to the canvas.

"One minute, Miss!" The brown watercolor blended into the paper's surface.

I squinted my eyes, "Just got to-"

I was interrupted by the sound of my doorknob rattling. She's got the key.

Startled by the sudden noise, my hand flinched and caused a large streak on the canvas. It gave the lady in the portrait one thick eyelash.

The door swung open and she placed an outfit on the bed, "I'm sorry to interrupt, Lily, but please put this on." Miss Aird smiled warmly and left my room for privacy.

My chest weakened and my mouth let out a small whimper at the sight of my messed up portrait. I sighed and looked towards the outfit on the bed.

It was a faded grey t-shirt dress, accompanied with a loose fitted cardigan that looked as if it dated to the 1850s. I visibly cringed and looked for an outfit myself.

Today, I was going to go with my father to watch him make a business deal.

My father, Aaron Heart, was a well known business man. He and my mother owned many lots and buildings around New York, small business deals were not uncommon.

He always preferred I accompanied him, due to the fact that I am his only heir. Once he believes he is not longer fit to run a business, I will be forced to step in. It is ideal that a man takes over this business, preferably one more skilled than I, but I was a miracle baby. So there is no chance of a boy anytime soon.

The business world has never been my style. I've always preferred long walks at night time by myself, under the rain. The cold, chilly air seeping through my stockings and up my skirts. The noise of heavy raindrops hitting the top of my umbrella, all the way until I reach the art store just around the corner of my apartment.

Other than those mesmerizing trips, I enjoy staying inside. Reading a book or two a week and continuously painting portraits of people I see sitting on the benches outside our penthouse window.

Anything other than sticking my nose in documents full of numbers.

My parents hired a nanny that has been with me for as long as I can remember. Due to the fact that my parents are never around, the job of raising me has fallen into Miss Aird's hands. I am forever in her debt for her giving me the childhood my parents would've never had the time to do.

Because of my father's extreme goal of making me most suitable to run the business once he no longer can, I have not lived the life of a normal child. Not once have I had the permission for a boyfriend. Not once have I had a real friend, to be quite honest, I've only ever been apart of arranged play dates with children I've never seen before.

It was always silly little attempts of my parents trying to give me that social interaction, but it wasn't enough.

I am absolutely horrible at talking to others, public speaking, or even something as simple as making eye contact. Which is why I go with my father to these important meetings, even though I never open my mouth.

He still believes they're beneficial to me.

In hopes that one day I'll be that confident little girl my parents want me to be. I want to be what they need me to be. I want to make them proud.

I place an outfit I put together myself in the bed and analyze it before putting it on.

I smooth down my skirt with my slender fingers, grab my bag, and head downstairs.

"I'm coming, Miss Aird!" I say with a light voice.

She grabs the keys off of the hook, "Don't forget to take one of your anxiety pills, honey. I'll be in the car. Hurry please."

The elevator door beeps and closes, signaling that I am now in the penthouse alone.

Running towards the medicine cabinets, I open the small brown door and search for the orange bottle with my name.

I always struggle with the child lock on these bottles. Push and twist, pull and twist, twist while standing on your head. They always get me.

After fiddling with the lid for a minute or two, I finally pop it open and take one.

I've been taking medication for my anxiety since I was 12 years old. Due to my lack of social interaction, meeting and talking to new people has always caused me to freak out.

Despite these strong pills, I've grown a tolerance overtime and they barely help me now. But, it's all I have left to fix me.

I take a few deep breaths. I look at myself in the small mirror attached to the fridge and smooth my long hair.

The time on the oven reads 3:30 and the meeting is at 3:45. Meaning Miss Aird has to get me to an office in 15 minutes that is 20 minutes away. Including the New York traffic.

My father is going to kill me.

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