Chapter Text
You’ve never thought of Rafe Cameron in that way, at least not since your friend break up with Sarah.
It was your mother who incepted that thought in your head, on a sunny morning in the kitchen. She was standing cutting vegetables, and you were making yourself a characteristically late breakfast. The sigh coming out of her mouth should prompt you to ask her what’s wrong, but you already knew what’s wrong.
Your dad’s failing business. To be fair, he wouldn’t have admitted that at all, knowing that he had the biggest ego ever. But the letter from the bank, with a bold and red title made you and your mother exchange looks and open it anyways.
Since then everything has been going downhill, and there’s nothing you could do. It’s not like a failing business could suddenly become successful overnight just because you wanted it to be, or god forbid the lie rich people tell poor people that hard work does it all.
“You know, you’re pretty and you’re young but you have no higher education and you have no successful business to inherit,” she started, you glanced over your shoulder at her, she was still focused on cutting the vegetables.
“I know that,” you commented with a sigh that should’ve eased the heaviness in your chest, but it only served to make you feel more weight in your chest.
“So I think you should find yourself a nice rich man to marry,” she said, and you usually would’ve scoffed at her words but you knew her words were true.
You were God's most spoiled creation, and rightfully so. You were born as the only daughter of a rich family in an elite suburban neighborhood, the kind that naturally had vacation homes and private jets. But with the business going downhill, that easily meant all of those blessings being plucked away from your hands.
“You aren’t suited for living in The Cut, you would be miserable and people there would easily take advantage of you,”
Not only the properties, but also the connections. Your family friends were everything but loyal, they dropped lifelong friends if it didn’t suit the successful image they portrayed, which would also mean your chances of being married off to a rich man would be nonexistent.
“You’re naive, and have no education or prospects so getting married is the best option for you.”
Rich people surrounded themselves with rich people.
The bank already seized a hold of your vacation home, and it would be a matter of time before you’re found out. No one wanted to be poor, so you listened to your mother’s words carefully.
“Cynthia’s son is interning at her hospital, he’s young and seems like a respectful young man that you can manipulate with a few nice words…Cynthia’s hard on him so it would be so much easier,” she said, and you neglected your sandwich making in order to rest your back against the counter and stare at her standing in the island, still giving all her attention to chopping the vegetables.
“You mean Topper?” you asked, and she hummed in agreement. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, “mom, he’s still not over Sarah and she’s been dating that guy from The Cut for like years now,”
She moved to the gas stove top next to you, switched the fire on and tossed the chopped onions in the pot. “What about that nice guy you dated in high school? That blonde with dimples,” she asked, glancing at you as she stirred the onions.
You grinned, rolled your eyes and revealed, “I have never told you this but the main reason I broke up with Dylan was because I caught him cheating on me with his cousin.”
She chuckled, then tossed the garlic and stirred it, “well, most rich people are like that, I also dated a guy in high school who later married his cousin.”
“Interesting,” you commented.
It got quiet for a minute, then you resumed your task of making your sandwich. Only when you took a bite of it did she speak again, “I think Sarah’s brother is a good candidate,”
“Mom, please,” you say with a sigh, setting down your sandwich and then feeling like you have no appetite anymore. Not because of Rafe, you feel indifferent about him. It’s just that the mention of him makes you automatically associate him with Sarah.
Your ex-best friend, your best friend since birth and the one who was secretly dating your highschool boyfriend behind your back. Honestly even though years passed, you think you still have similar feelings to when it first happened, you didn’t care much for the fact that your boyfriend cheated on you.
It was the fact that Sarah betrayed you that hurt you, and the fact that she went ahead and carelessly and unapologetically ruined your friendship.
Sure, you weren’t perfect in highschool and had your own flaws too and your friendship with Sarah was pretty codependent. You two never ever existed without each other, if one was seen then there’s a ninety nine percent chance the other would be there.
“It’s been years since you and Sarah had that fight,” your mother responded with a shrug. Of course, none of the grown-ups knew the true reason for your friend break up, all they knew was that overnight you both couldn’t stand the sight of each other.
Sure, years passed since the fight. It happened Junior year and you like to believe you’re totally over it, which you are, but it’s just pretty goddamn strange to walk up to Rafe Cameron who you’ve never spoken to since your fight with Sarah and flirt with him.
In general, it would be strange to flirt with him when you have never ever seen him in that way.
“He’s also definitely inheriting his father’s empire, Sarah used to be the favorite but she’s off with that broke man and there’s no way Ward would give her anything,” She said, now stirring the simmering pot and giving you her full attention, “Rafe is working with his father, Rose talks about them all the time.”
“He’s Sarah’s brother,” you argued.
Your mother scoffed, rolled her eyes and said, “And he’s rich and he’s going to inherit his father’s very successful empire, plus he’s handsome and he seems nice, he always greets me when he sees me.”
That’s when the thought was planted in your head, and it continued to grow.
Sure, Rafe Cameron was a very handsome young man, you remember passively thinking that when you and Sarah used to be friends. You don’t remember much of him, just that you had small chats when you used to lounge around Tannyhill.
You always saw him at parties, but never said hi because Sarah would ignore him and you felt the need to ignore him too.
He was cordial with you, sometimes he drove you and Sarah around before she got her license. He didn’t stand out to you much, so you didn’t understand why you were sitting outside very early in the morning when you always woke up around noon.
Your legs dangled on the edge of the porch swing, clad in your running attire that you’ve never used, a magazine on your lap as you watched the blond jog past your home.
Even your mother was surprised when she saw you up early, and in work out clothes. “It’s such a pleasant sight seeing you in the morning, you should do it often,” she said and you sighed as you stood up from the swing.
“But it’s a good thing you’re up early, he always jogs in the morning,” she didn’t need to say a name for you to understand who she was referring to. You knew that fact too, it’s why you even decided to set an alarm at six in the morning.
“Accompany you in your walk?” you asked, she nodded and you both started her routine.
The scenery was pleasant, the sun still wasn’t fully up in the sky to torture you with its rays and shine. The weather was nice too, and halfway through the walk you forgot why you even started this, and only recalled when you heard the jogging steps behind you.
You looked over your shoulder, and low and behold Rafe Cameron in all his glory was slowing his jogging, possibly at the end of his morning jog. There was a hint of confusion in his eyes when he stared at you, possibly questioning why you, a girl who slept until noon, was up at six in the morning.
He didn’t have to stalk you to know that, in your neighborhood everyone knew everything about everybody. From your salary to how many utensils you had in your drawer. It’s just common knowledge, and the nosiness in such communities, so it was only a matter of time before everyone knew of your father’s business and would cross you out from social gatherings.
“Good morning, Mrs. (L/N) and (Y/N),” he greeted, slightly heaving but still managing to smile politely at your mother.
“Hello, Rafe, how was your run?” your mother asked back politely.
“Oh you know, the usual, the Miller’s dog tried to chase me,” he grinned when you and your mother both chuckled. Then he gave you his full attention, “I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”
You blinked, slightly taken aback by his direct address to you, when you’ve done nothing but ignore him after your fiasco with his sister. Still, you displayed your best casual smile, “I have been fine, I’m just trying to get into a productive routine,”
“Well, it’s good seeing you up and about,” he responded.
“How about you, how have you been?” you asked, tilting your head with slight curiosity.
“Same old,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug, “working with my old man, hanging at the country club, teaching Wheezie how to drive,” you beam at him. “How’s she by the way? Haven’t seen her in a while,”
“Like the usual sixteen year olds, rebellious and making dumb decisions,” he answers, once again easily making you and your mother laugh. He smiles charmingly, “I was joking, she’s actually better than me and Sarah,”
You laughed, genuinely enjoying the banter. “Well, that's a relief. Good to know she didn't inherit the Cameron family's knack for trouble.”
Rafe chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah, well, someone has to break the cycle, right? Though, I can't promise she won't pull some pranks here and there.” Your heart skipped a beat at his action.
Your mother chimed in, “Teenagers will be teenagers. Just make sure she doesn't cause too much trouble, Rafe.”
He smirked and nodded, and opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted him, “Well let’s not take more of your time, it was nice catching up with you,” then you crossed your arm with your mother’s as you pulled her ahead with you.
Rafe's smirk faded slightly, replaced by a subtle look of disappointment. “Yeah, sure. It was nice catching up,” he replied, nodding politely.
You flashed him a smile, walked ahead of him as he took the turn towards Tannyhill. When he was safely out of earshot, your mother prompted, “so?”
“Even if I don’t like him I don’t have any other choice,” you reply with a shrug, your mother smiled teasingly, “good thing you like him.”
You rolled your eyes playfully at your mother's teasing, “mom, at this point it’s about survival, and since when did he mature?”
The morning stroll was nice, your mother had returned home when her knees started hurting her, but you decided you’d continue walking for a bit more. Observing the well-manicured streets of Figure 8 that you had grown up into, and gazing at the beautiful architecture of the houses there, you thought that you wanted to continue this lifestyle and would do everything in your power to maintain it.
Who cares if Rafe was your traitor Ex-bestfriend brother, and seeing her would remind you of the betrayal? You had to do what you had to do in order to thrive, you didn’t have anything under your name, and if the facade of your family’s success was found out and the bank managed to seize your current family home then you’d have no other option but live in The Cut.
People there didn’t like Figure 8 residents, rightfully so, who would like their boss. So what if their former boss happened to be their neighbor, there would certainly be a clear threat to your family’s safety. You had to get Rafe Cameron to fall in love with you, or at least view you as the perfect wife material and to propose to you, fast.
You weren’t a goddess, but most rich housewives you knew in your neighborhood weren’t overly stunning. They mostly happened to be from respectful families, looked easy on the eyes, and were always around the said rich husband.
You already had two down, you just had to get the last in check.
A honk from behind you alerted you, and you turned to the side as a giant polished black truck slowed next to you. Rafe’s truck. His window was rolled down, and when you stopped next to his window you could take whiffs of his attractive spicy cologne, his hair was semi-wet, either from his hair gel or his shower—you didn’t know and didn’t care.
“Hey,”
“Hi again, Rafe,” you sweetly said, smiling and he smiled back when he caught yours.
His gaze caught yours, “Do you want to join me and Wheezie on our driving lessons?” he suddenly asked. You blinked in slight surprise, then your grin widened as you cheered on the inside. One more step closer to your goal of being a rich housewife.
“Will my safety be compromised?” you challenged with a teasing smirk, your hand resting on your hip.
“Oh definitely.” he replied with a playful gleam in his eyes.
You nodded as you agreed,“compromised safety it is, then,” playing along with the banter. The invitation to their driving lessons wasn't merely about learning to drive; it was an opportunity to further integrate yourself into Rafe's world, to become a fixture in his routine.
Surely Wheezie would be there, and you wouldn’t be alone but you thought that you should view your lack of privacy as an advantage. If he saw that you were great with his favorite sister, then he ought to have some positive feelings with you.
If you played your cards right, then you would be invited to more things and would have a steady footing in Rafe’s life.
Rafe's truck idled beside you, and as he prepared to drive away, he flashed a charming smile. “Looking forward to it.”
“Likewise,” you responded, a subtle flirty smile drawn on your lips.