Author's Note: Hello everyone! New story. Of course you noticed already. This is the story in which I'll be working once 'Complicated' is over. I hope you like it. I couldn't stop writing it. It was really fun because I've got something great planned for this story. Please, review and tell me what you think! Happy reading!

Chapter 1

You can do this, I thought, stepping into the subway. As much as I tried to sound sure of that, I didn't quite believe it, so I squeezed my five-year-old son's hand a bit harder. Little Dariel's presence always made me feel better. He reminded me that I was capable of doing anything. If I'd managed to raise him while being at school and attending therapy, letting the past go had to be as easy as one, two, three.

Not all men are bad, I reminded myself, the image of my best friend, Luke, flashing before my eyes. Not all men are like the fucker that abused you and gave you this wonderful son. Good males exist in the world. Let the past go. Do it for Mom.

She was the reason I was making an effort to trust men again—well, her desire to see me in love before dying, actually. It was hard considering one of them had abused of me at the young age of seventeen, but I was trying. Really trying.

"Mommy, are you alright?" Dariel asked, tilting his head back to look into my eyes. In the process, tufts of dark hair—probably inherited by his father—fell over his eyes.

I smiled, brushing them off of his forehead. "Never been better." It wasn't true, of course. The thought of having to be friendly with guys made my throat feel dry. Many years had passed since the last time I had been kind to them—of course, if you didn't count Luke. He was the only one I could trust. I knew he would never try to hurt me.

You can do this, I repeated one more time. But as my gaze swept around the subway car, I decided I couldn't do it. Every time I saw one of them—especially a dark-haired one—memories came back. I couldn't understand why this only happened when I tried to change. Did my mind want me to stay like this forever?

There were no empty seats anywhere, so Dariel and I stood near the exit and waited for the subway to stop at our destination. I'll try to do it again tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow. I always said I'd do it, but everyday was the same. Heaving a sigh, I ran a hand through my blonde hair. The therapy wasn't working too well if I wasn't getting good results.

"Miss, please take my seat." A man, probably in his mid-thirties, got on his feet and placed a hand on my lower back. The physical contact made me distrust him immediately, but I remembered my mother, lying in bed while Leukemia killed her slowly. So I smiled, muttered a thanks, and sat down with Dariel perched on my legs. Good thing he was as light as a feather.

After several minutes of waiting I could finally see our station approaching. Thanking the man that had given us his seat one more time, Dariel and I stood up and exited the car. It was cold outside, so I wrapped my handmade scarf around his neck and asked him to put his gloves and beanie on.

He grinned once he was wearing a scarf, gloves, a beanie and a windbreaker jacket. "How do I look?"

I laughed before saying, "A little bit chubby, but you look just fine. I bet many girls will want to hug you to feel warm." I took his hand again and started walking. "Come on, Little D. You can't be late to school."

I should be in school, too, but I wasn't. I'd decided to take a break to find a job. Money would be needed once Mom left this world. Dad was willing to help me, but I couldn't depend on my parents forever. They'd done enough already. It was time for me to take care of myself.

Dariel hummed a song he learned at school as we walked through New York. Every time we passed a shop or a diner I searched for a 'Help Wanted' sign, but I wasn't lucky today either. I couldn't decide what was more complicated—forgetting the past or finding a job. Both were quite difficult tasks.

The sounds of children playing were getting close, so I put a hand on my son's shoulder and stopped him from walking. I knew how much he hated whenever I kissed him in front of his friends so I decided to do it here, a block away from them.

"You behave, okay?" I said, squatting in front of him so we were face to face. Without waiting for a response, I kissed his forehead and ruffled his messy hair. Sometimes I wonder why it won't stay calm. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Yep! And I love you too, Mommy." With a grin, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on each of my cheeks. Oh, this boy was lovely. How could he be the son of someone so disgusting? Not wanting to let him go, I pulled him into an embrace. "Mommy, it's getting late." He didn't sound worried, though.

Blowing a kiss on his cheek, I clambered to my feet and continued moving despite his laughter. The teacher greeted him with a smile. Forgetting about his friends, Dariel opened his arms and gave me one last hug before he sprinted towards the playground. Being a mother was fascinating when you had a son like my Little D. I waved goodbye to Mrs. Suzanne and let my heart guide me around the city.

As I walked, I glanced at every window in search of work. No luck again. At one point I found a newsstand and bought today's paper. Maybe there were more decent job offers today. I spotted a diner not so far away. Even from here the scent of food reached my nostrils. I hadn't had breakfast; my insides were snarling like rabid dogs.

It was nine-thirty in the morning. I had an appointment with my psychologist in an hour, and her office wasn't far from here, so I ordered some food and sat at a table while reading the classifieds. A hospital needed someone to wash the bathrooms. A restaurant was looking for a waitress. An important company required a female employee to take inventory and serve as a secretary—that didn't sound so bad. I'd never done inventory before, but I knew how they worked. I just had to count, probably serve coffee and help the superiors with whatever they needed.

This was an opportunity I couldn't lose.

By the time my plates were empty I had gathered a big amount of courage and prepared to call. The job had to be mine. I took my phone out, dialed the number and prepared to click on the 'Call' button. You can do this, I reminded myself.

As if the world was against me, something hot spilled onto my head just when I was about to call. My skin burned where coffee had touched, and I couldn't help letting out a squeal. The phone slipped out of my hand and fell to the ground. Could I be any more unlucky? Crack! A fissure appeared on the screen.

"Fuck. I—I'm sorry. Are you okay, Miss?" someone behind me asked, but I ignored him. Instead, I bent down to grab the iPhone Dad had given me last Christmas. It wasn't on the floor anymore. The owner of the voice held it in his hand, waiting for me to take it.

I turned to meet his gaze and said, "Thank you." I was momentarily struck by his looks. What got my attention the most was the color of his eyes: green. I could imagine the sea just by looking at them. They were beautiful, but my surprise didn't last long. Distrust swelled inside me—especially after seeing his dark hair. Taking the phone from his hand, I faked a smile and turned around to dry my hair. It would be all frizzy in a couple of minutes.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated. I nodded, using napkins to clean myself as much as possible. Without asking for permission, he sat down beside me, his green orbs fixed on my face. I could see worry in them, but that wasn't enough for me to trust him.

He handed me more napkins and I thanked him again. Couldn't he understand I didn't want him here? Accidents happened. I understood that. But that wasn't the reason I was uncomfortable.

"You don't know how sorry I am, Miss," he said once more, shaking his head. "Please, let me pay you for everything." He reached for his wallet, but I waved my hand dismissively.

"No. It's fine," I said, standing up. "It was an accident and I understand that. I don't use my phone much anyway. I think I should get going." Placing enough money on the table to pay for the food, I got my things and left the diner. There were twenty minutes left until my appointment, but maybe if I slowed down my pace I would get to Camille's office just in time.

As I walked, scanning the crack on the phone, someone at my left shouted, "At least let me take you wherever you want! I won't take no for an answer!" I turned my head to find the same guy that had spilled his coffee on me. He was driving a black Maserati, which glinted underneath the sun.

I approached the vehicle, a thin smile playing on my lips. "It's not necessary. Really."

"I insist," the guy said. I could still see his eyes full of worry, which made me trust him just a little bit. Why was he so concerned? He hadn't hit me with a bat or something. Luke reacted equally whenever he was the cause of something bad. Anyone like my best friend was trustworthy.

"Okay," I finally said, climbing in the car. Apparently he'd just cleaned it, because everything smelled like lemon. I could detect men's aftershave in the air, too. The same one Dad used, in fact.

"Where to?" he asked, a smile flitting across his face. He seemed to feel better now that I was accepting his help. I told him the address of Camille's office and he froze, the charming smile fading. For a moment I thought he would ask me to get out the car because I was crazy—many people thought you were mad if you went to a psychologist—but instead he let out a laugh and started driving.

"What's so funny?" I asked, a blush creeping to my cheeks.

The guy stopped laughing, the upward curve back on his face. "Wanna know what's funny? Life. I'm actually going to see Camille right now, too. Do you think it's a coincidence, or does it mean something?"

"You?" I trailed my gaze over his body, not believing a single word. With his expensive clothes and belongings he had the appearance of someone who didn't have problems. Why would he need help from a psychologist? Probably he was just messing with me because he found it amusing that I went to therapy.

"Yeah, me."

"How come I haven't seen you before?"

He shrugged, turning his head to give me a grin. At that moment I realized there was something familiar about him. I couldn't tell what, though. The nervous part of me said, He has dark hair; he could be Dariel's father. After all, I didn't know who the father was. It'd been really dark the night of the incident; I hadn't seen his face. And to make everything worse, the bastard had hit me on the head.

I shook my head, forcing those thoughts to dissolve. I couldn't be blaming every dark-haired guy that stood in my way for what had happened. Besides, this person didn't look like someone who attacked seventeen-year-old girls.

"I decided to come to therapy earlier today. Usually at this time of the day I'm always working. Speaking of which, you forgot this at the diner." From the pocket of his jacket he produced a slip of paper, which contained the phone number of the company I wanted to work in. I took it from his hands and thanked him. Jeez. Maybe I was finally changing. I'd thanked this guy thrice already.

"Were you planning to ask for the job?" he asked. "You know, before this idiot ruined your phone."

"Yes," I answered, stuffing the ad inside my jeans' pocket. If I was lucky the job would still be available later. Which meant it wouldn't be.

"Then, I give it to you." A stoplight turned red, so he had the opportunity to turn around and face me. I stared at him intently, until I recalled where I had seen him before. This guy was always appearing on the front covers of local newspapers. The city was proud of the company he ran alone—the same company that needed a secretary. How did I know it? I'd been buying newspapers for two months, trying to find a job.

"I knew I'd seen you before." I snapped my fingers. "What was your name? Jason? No. Jackson."

"That's my last name, actually." The same grin I'd seen him show to the press appeared on his face. "My name is Perseus. Perseus Jackson. Call me Percy, though. So… what do you think? You look like the perfect person to be my secretary. I can tell you're honest, kind, dedicated, smart. You look quite smart. Do you want the job?"

I couldn't believe this was really happening. For weeks I'd tried to find work without good results, and now he was just proposing to give me one? It sounded too easy. I had to pinch my arm to make sure this wasn't a dream. When it was clear I was awake I said, "Uh, I don't know.

Percy's eyebrows shot up in response. "But you just said you want the job."

"Yes, I want it. But I want to earn it. I don't want you to give it to me just because of what happened back at the diner."

You're stupid, I told myself. It would be damn complicated to find an opportunity like this again. Yet, I wanted make sure the job was right for me.

"But…I just told you that—" Before he could complain about my answer, cars began honking behind us. The stoplight had turned green. This was the only lane still full of cars. Without thinking, Percy stepped on the gas. Afterwards, he didn't mention anything about his company.

Traveling by car was way faster than walking. In less than ten minutes the Maserati pulled into a parking lot. I prepared to get out, but Percy asked me to wait a second. He jumped into the cold air of the city, moving as fast as a flash. Soon, he was opening my door and holding out his hand. It would be rude to ignore his offer, so I took it and let him help me.

Wow. After thanking him, I realized I had done that four times already. Maybe I was changing. Or maybe I just had manners. He stood at my side as we headed towards the entrance. Jennifer, Camille's nice and beautiful secretary, smiled in our direction as we entered the waiting room. I wasn't sure if she was happy to see me or Percy, but I smiled back anyway.

"Mrs. Morgan will be ready for you in a minute, Annabeth," she said with a big smile. "She's currently busy with another patient, but she'll see to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you," I beamed. After receiving one more smile formed by those red full lips, I turned around to take a seat. Once again, without further advice, the green-eyed man sat at my side. He leaned his elbows on his knees, staring at me as if I were an object in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. "What?"

"I was just wondering…" he said, his voice laced with curiosity. "Why do you need therapy? You don't look like a person who has trauma or problems."

I remained silent for some moments. The answer came a bit harsher than expected. "I don't want to be rude or anything, but I wouldn't feel comfortable telling my problems to a total stranger." To make everything less awkward, I added, "Would you tell me why you need therapy if I asked you? I don't think so."

To my surprise, he chuckled. "Yeah, I would. I don't mind admitting I have a drinking problem. That's why I'm here."

Again, I had to run my eyes over him, because he didn't have the appearance of drunk. In fact, if he hadn't told me otherwise, I would've said he's completely normal and shouldn't be here.

"You don't look like someone who has problems," I whispered. I couldn't say the same for myself. People probably noticed how serious I was near men. I bet they did.

Shrugging, he leaned back in his seat. "You neither. I do have problems—a lot, in fact. Not only do I have an addiction to alcohol, I drink to…forget. This means I developed a problem to escape from my other problems. Don't worry, though," he rushed as if I were looking at him strange. Was I? "I've been sober for some years. I just come to work on my other problems before they drive me to drink again."

I shouldn't be asking questions. Not after I refused to tell him the reason I was here. Yet, the words slipped out of my mouth. "What kind of things are you trying to forget? Are they too bad?"

The next time he talked, he did it with a serious expression. "I'd rather not say."

For the first time in my life, I was lucky. Jennifer waved a hand, gesturing me to enter Camille's office. I got to my feet and turned to Percy. "Well, I need to go. Thanks again. You know, for bringing me. And for everything." I made an attempt to get away, but his hand wrapped around my wrist.

"You haven't told me your name, you know?" His amused expression was back.

"Annabeth Chase. Now, I really have to go." I tried pulling my arm free, but he was strong. Like always, the nervous part of me was the first one to react. It was telling me to run away before he tried to harm me.

"Well, Annabeth, take this." From his chest pocket he took out a little card. It had the name of his company and his phone number. "Just in case you change your mind. You know, about accepting the work. The job will always be available for you. And…I'm really sorry. For what I did to your phone. I'll find a way to pay you."

"It's not necessary," I said. "I really need to go now."

He waved a hand at me, but I didn't respond to the gesture. Instead, I turned around and walked away.

. . .

I didn't realize there was something strange going on until I stood at my apartment's door. It was unlocked. And I had locked it. I was sure of that. Dariel had forgotten his gloves and I'd forced him to go and get them.

A normal person would've gone to search for help, but I slowly opened the door. For a moment I felt like the protagonist of a horror movie. Those guys always went straight to danger.

In a second someone threw their arms around my neck. I wasn't sure how to react. How had this person entered? No one will hurt me again, I thought. But before I could make a move, a very peculiar scent reached my nose. That smell—I only knew one person who used that kind of perfume.

"Mom?" I pulled away to see her pale skin and exhausted expression. Despite that, there was a huge smile splitting her face in two. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in San Francisco!"

By now I wasn't talking anymore. Every word sounded like a laugh. I couldn't believe she was really here! She and Dad had moved to San Francisco shortly after she was diagnosed with Leukemia. New York was my home, so I'd decided to stay here with a three-year-old Dariel. She visited me every December and on birthday, but it was still November.

"Surprise!" she exclaimed, running a thumb along my cheek. "Look at you. You've changed a lot since the last time I saw you."

"Mom, I saw you only four months ago. It isn't much." I rolled my eyes, a smile playing on my lips. "Anyways, what a great surprise! Are you planning to spend Thanksgiving with Little D and me?"

"Of course! That's the reason why we're here. You father is taking a nap in your room—I hope you don't mind, but it was a long trip."

"It's okay, Mom. Let him rest. Besides, you paid for this apartment. Use it freely." I slid out of my jacket, placing it on the couch. I offered her something to drink, but she ignored me and continued talking about how much she missed me. I missed her a lot too, everything would probably be easier if she lived with me.

"So…tell me. Have you finally met a guy?" she asked hopefully.

My mood plummeted in a second. There was that question. "Uh…"

Being my mother, she knew me really well. Her smile faded as she let out a sigh. "I guess I'll leave this world without seeing you in love. But don't worry about me," she added quickly. "The good thing is that you're okay. As long as you're happy I can go in peace."

Why did her response affect me so much? Because you want to see her happy, my mind responded automatically. And it was true. I wanted to make her so happy that the next time I talked, I did it without thinking. "Actually, Mom I—I did meet a guy."

It's official; you're stupid, I thought.

Mom's grey eyes filled with happiness the moment I finished talking. "Really?"

"Y-yeah. Why would I lie to you?" I wondered if she noticed I was avoiding eye-contact.

"I can't believe this is finally happening." She stared at the ceiling as if wanting to thank God. "I've been waiting many years to hear you say that. I don't know about your father, but I want to meet him. Invite him to come over this Friday."

Uh-oh. How would I get a boyfriend before this Friday? I couldn't even stand near a man without being rude. "But Mom, it'll be Thanksgiving! I'm sure he has things to do."

"Well, invite him anyways. If he can't come I'll understand . But you know what? I hope he can. You know how much I've waited for this moment. Finally, someone will be capable of making you forget that night!" She looked so excited I couldn't tell her there was no guy in my life.

Luckily, the bell rang at that moment. "It must be Luke with Little D," I said, anxious to get away from her. This was dangerous territory. I made my way to the door and found, as expected, my best friend and my son. Both of them were eating ice cream, and I rolled my eyes. Luke spoiled Dariel way too much.

"I can explain this." Luke raised his arms, a grin set on his face.

"Yeah, you can." I placed a kiss on his cheek and ruffled Dariel's hair. "Guess who's inside, Little D." His mouth was full with food, so I didn't wait for his answer. "Your grandparents!"

His face lit up with excitement. In a second, he left Luke and me alone so he could hug my mother.

"I just got myself in trouble," I said, needing to tell someone about what I had just done.