Epilogue
Nalia
“Come on, come on, where the heck is that dress?” I muttered. I tore into my closet, and eventually managed to find the little, black dress I had been looking for in the back behind my winter clothes. Crazy place for it to be, but it didn’t matter. If I didn’t hurry up, I was going to be late. Not that it was a new concept.
Throwing it on, I pulled all of the curlers from my hair and gave it a fluff, glad that I had already done my makeup. Tonight was extremely important, and I didn’t want any part of it or me to be out of place.
In the middle of all the hubbub, the doorbell rang. I rushed barefoot to it, throwing open the door to find my brother waiting impatiently in the doorway. “I’m running behind.”
“Tell me what else is new,” Jackson grumbled as he walked in, Grace was right behind him. “That’s why I picked you up last, sis.”
I rolled my eyes at him, a little too melodramatically for his liking, although Grace let out a chuckle.
“I couldn’t find my dress,” I shot back, picking up the small studs that Owen had given me for our first Christmas together. The thought made me smile, set my heart aching to see him, and sent my pulse racing.
It was rare that we spent more than a day apart, but he had been working so hard on tonight’s event that I had stayed largely out of his way for the better part of two days. He had been working feverishly to make sure the event would go off without a hitch. Besides, my apartment needed to be packed up, hence the reason I couldn’t find anything. Half of the place was already in boxes, and the other half was scattered in piles and stacks and general mountains of disorder.
I was moving in with Owen at the end of the week, a date which would mark one year of happiness for us. He had popped the question about moving in to me over dinner just a week prior, and since I already spent the majority of my time at his place anyway, there didn't really seem to be any reason to continue to pay rent here.
“Come on, Nalia!” Grace shouted from the hallway, her tone bordering on agitated. Probably not because I was running behind as much as she was having to listen to Jackson go on about me running behind. When it came to Jackson, she had a rather short fuse, and her moods could switch in a blink. Plus, she was ready to go. For some reason, she was more excited than I would have thought for tonight’s event. We were all excited, though.
I had cried like a baby when Owen had casually mentioned a few months before that he was putting on a black tie charity event for the local orphanage. After growing up in and out of orphanages, I had a heart for helping in that area, and there were a great deal of kids growing up like I had who were going to benefit from his generosity.
The thought of my own past and the fact that he was so dedicated to helping people who were going through such hardships really made my heart swell with both pride and love. It made me even more proud to call him mine, and ever so grateful to have someone like him in my life. I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve someone as kind and generous as Owen but, whatever it was, I thanked God for it.
Finding my shoes, I slipped them on and grabbed my purse, adjusting my dress as I clacked down the hall until I stood before them. “How do I look?”
“Like a woman who’s making me late,” Jackson jabbed, rolling his eyes. “Come on, seriously, we are going to be late if we don't get a move on. C'mon, hustle! Let's go, let's go!”
I socked him in the shoulder as we walked out to his car. “No need to be such a grouch! We'll get there on time, take a pill. Besides, you know I’m not going to be late for Owen’s big event, as hard as he’s been working on this. He's been so stressed about every detail of this event being right for, well, for a long time now. It's really taken it out of him.”
“I’m sure you can provide him with some extra special relief,” Grace giggled from the front passenger seat eliciting a loud groan from Jackson. He had finally come around to the fact that Owen and I were a couple, but there were times I still thought my brother felt like it was going to fall apart at any moment.
Thankfully, he and Owen got along pretty well now, and I knew it was only a matter of time before my brother finally got used to the fact that I had, in fact, wrangled the wild rock star and not only locked him down, but domesticated him, as well. He'd never believed that such a thing could have been possible, but there I was—there we were.
“Do you think the mayor will come tonight?” Grace asked as she checked her reflection in the visor mirror, making sure that everything was perfectly in place and that her makeup looked as good as it had when she had left her house. “I honestly can’t believe I’m attending this event,” she said, sounding overly excited, almost like a middle school girl going to a high school party.
I eyed my friend, wondering why she was so enthusiastic. While I was blown away by some of the names that were going to be present, Grace had been in the limelight for so long that I just assumed she knew most everyone and that she’d grown used to attending events like this. Surely once you'd been to enough of these things, you'd get over them and perhaps even begin to see them as something of a chore, right? But there she was, acting like a girl heading to her first prom.
Unlike Grace, I no longer felt the need to be famous. Once upon a time, I thought that if I got myself out there that all of my dreams would come true, but recently I had come to realize that I already had everything I needed. Owen was so much more than I could have ever imagined or wished for, and I couldn’t wait to see what else our lives would hold for the future. Now that his touring days were behind him, he had really delved into his record label, signing some new talent that, in my opinion, was going to make him a great deal of money. The sky was the limit for the future.
“Wow. I don’t think the orphanage has ever looked so good,” I remarked as we pulled into the parking area.
I gazed up at the brick building with pride, admiring some of the changes that had been made thanks to my new foundation—the one I was funding with sales from my songs.
It wasn’t much yet, but I wanted to do what I could, and I wanted the children that stayed there to think of this place as a home, not a jail or a place of purgatory. It had to be, above all, a place in which they could feel safe and wanted. With Owen’s help, I had started to oversee some renovations to the building and land, changes that I was really proud of. Tonight’s fundraiser would hopefully allow me to expand and help other orphanages as well.
I focused on the spotlight shining brightly on the name of the building as, below it, elegantly clad men and women ambled through the doors, heading through to the gymnasium where the event was being held. Owen and I had gone back and forth on where to hold the event. In the end, we had both finally decided that having it here where the attendees could see where their money was going was the most sensible option.
We climbed out of the car and made our way up the stairs, then headed down the hallway to the gym, which, in stark contrast to its usual simplicity, had been turned into a formal affair. A pianist was situated on stage, playing some soft music while everyone mingled. I was a little in awe of the big names in attendance, including politicians, musicians, and a few actors. Knowing my boyfriend, he had probably just gone through his Rolodex and casually pulled out names of people he thought might support our cause; he was extremely well-connected.
“I’m off to mingle!” Grace announced cheerfully as we walked through the door, immediately disappearing into the crowd. I looked at my brother, and we both shook our heads. I had no idea what had gotten into my bestie, but she seemed to be very into the event.
“Do you see Owen?” I asked Jackson, surveying the attendees for the familiar face that still got my pulse racing every time I laid eyes on it.
“No, I don’t see him, but I do see food, and lots of it. Delicious, delicious food.”
I rolled my eyes. If there was one thing my brother could do, it was eat.
“Come on then, I know what you're after. Let’s get something to eat.”
I followed the path he made through the crowd over to the buffet. The spread was impressive. Definitely gourmet quality, but as suave and sophisticated as the hors d’oeuvres were, I was pretty sure we would still be hitting up a fast food joint at the end of the night on the way home.
“This is a pretty sweet layout,” Jackson admitted as we stood around, nibbling on the appetizers. “Owen really pulled this off. I wasn't expecting him to go all out with the catering like this.”
“Leave it to you to judge an event based on the food,” I joked, my attention wavering as I scanned the crowd for Owen.
I spotted Talon in the distance, so I excused myself and walked over, tapping him on the shoulder. He spun around, moving with cat-like grace. As soon as he saw me, he grinned cheekily and allowed his eyes to rove up and down my figure for a few moments. I rolled my eyes, making sure he saw the gesture.
“Nalia, you look hot,” he drawled, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Have I told you how lucky a man my brother is?” he winked.
I gave him a once over in return. He looked rather dashing in his tux, the way it was molded to his lean frame. “You’re not looking so bad yourself,” I replied warmly. “Thank you so much for coming, Talon. It means a lot to us.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said, patting his pocket. “Hell, I already have my donation all written up. No way I'm not chipping my share in for such an awesome project. You guys really have done a great thing here. Respect.”
“Well, the orphanage will appreciate it, I can guarantee that. Hey, have you seen your brother around here?”
Talon laughed. “You mean the nervous wreck I passed earlier? The man is a billionaire—how the hell he can be so nervous about a charity event is beyond me. Sheesh. You'd think he'd never stood up in front of a crowd in his life before. Weird, huh?”
“I don’t know why he's be so nervous, but I better find him. Talk him down,” I sighed. “Enjoy yourself, and don't party too hard. Yet!”
“Yet!” he replied with a laugh. “That's the key word, my dear, yet!”
I walked on, wondering where Owen could be. Finally, I spotted him near the stage. “Hey, sweetheart, why are you hiding out over here?”
“Hey, babe,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. He looked drop-dead sexy in his white tux, his hair carefully styled and held in place with so much gel that I was sure it wouldn’t move even in a hurricane. “You look good enough to eat. Way tastier than any of the swanky dishes I had the catering company whip up. Kinda making me hungry,” he said with a grin.
“Later,” I promised as he pulled me to his side, wrapping an arm around my waist. “And speaking of the catering company, wow! I think it’s safe to say that this event is a success already. You did an amazing job, my love. The orphanage is going to benefit greatly from this.”
“I’m just glad I could help with something that means so much to you,” he told me, his expression tender.
I melted against him, once again finding it hard to believe how lucky I was. And believe me, it had nothing to do with the money or who Owen was professionally. I loved Owen for Owen and would have loved him for his heart and soul had he been penniless. I was absolutely sure I would love him for the rest of my life.
“Come on, let's get things moving. We've got a schedule to stick to, and we don't want to waste anyone's time. A lot of big names have come out to support this, and we don't want to let 'em down,” he reminded me, tugging on my waist.
I followed him up the steps and onto the stage where the pianist was just finishing up a number. Owen nodded to him, and he stood, exiting the stage as Owen moved to the front of it. As soon as he was in front of the crowd, any trace of nervousness he’d had seemed to vanish. The stage really was a place where he felt truly at home, whether in a small dive bar in front of a dozen people, or on an arena stage in front of a crowd of hundreds of thousands of people.
“Good evening!” he shouted as if he were at a concert. “And thank you all for coming tonight. This is a very special night because we're all here to honor a cause that is very dear to someone who is very dear to me. My amazing girlfriend, Ms. Nalia Dean.
“I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge all the selfless work she's done for this orphanage. Your contributions tonight will continue the progress we have been fortunate enough to make from a humble beginning and hopefully, many other orphanages in the future. I promise you that your generous contributions will make this place a safe, wonderful home for these children for many years to come.
“You're not just building a place, ladies and gentlemen. You're not just stacking bricks and cement on top of one another. No, you're building lives. Beautiful, wonderful lives, full of hope and promise for the future.”
He then looked over at me, motioning for me to join him. I put on a smile as I nervously stepped up next to him, wondering what on earth he was about to do.
“As many of you might know, Nalia is a very talented pianist, and we have been working on her album in the studio for a few months now. Would you like to hear a song from her?”
I blushed as the crowd clapped and whistled. Owen was smiling down at me, nodding in encouragement. He leaned over to whisper some encouraging words in my ear. “Show off, babe.”
Taking a deep breath, I stepped over to the piano and sat down at the keys. I launched into a new song, surprised when Owen came to stand behind me, the mic in his hand. He began to sing the lyrics. We had practiced a few times before, but his voice still brought tears to my eyes. Maybe because he was singing a song we had created together, and he sang from his heart what we created from the heart.
The crowd fell silent as I poured myself into the song. And with the intensity of the music and the performance, coupled with Owen’s sweet voice, my heart was overwhelmed with love for him. His voice trailed off as he finished the lyrics and waited as I finished the last few notes. I simply sat there for a moment, my heart pounding in my ears as silence fell over the entire space.
Then, abruptly, the place erupted with shouts and cheers louder than I could have ever imagined. Smiling bright, I stood and glanced back, intending to prompt Owen to take a bow with me.
But he wasn’t where I had expected to see him. Instead, my eyes fell toward the floor where Owen was behind me on bended knee. In his hand, he held a small, black box. The crowd’s applause died to silence, and Owen looked up at me, smiling with tears rimming his eyes.
“Nalia Dean, no one has ever made me feel the way I do when I am with you, and I don’t ever want to find out what it feels like not to have you by my side. You are the most compassionate, loving person I have ever known, and I am so damn happy to have you in my life. I love you, more than any words could ever express. So, in front of all these witnesses, I’m asking if you will make me the happiest man on the planet. Will you marry me?” He opened the black box, revealing the most exquisite ring I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Owen,” I whispered as my hand covered my mouth in surprise, tears blurring my eyes. “Yes, yes, yes, I will. A million times, yes.”
He smiled and slipped the ring on my finger before rising to gather me in his arms, kissing me and holding me tightly against him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”
“For what?” I asked, pulling back to look at him.
“For taking a chance on me. For believing in what we could be. We are going to make a beautiful future together.”
And we did.
INVESTIGATED BILLIONAIRE
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
PART 1
Chapter One
Delilah
“So what exactly are we supposed to do at one of these things?”
“Mattie, it’s an art show. We are supposed to look at the art.” I tried not to roll my eyes at my best friend.
I loved coming to art shows and had been doing it for years as a kind of release. Sometimes, I thought I could have been an amazing artist myself, and other times, I just enjoyed looking at the hard work the artists had put together. It was a way of relaxing for me, and luckily, I’d been able to convince my friend Mattie to tag along this time, even if she didn’t like art all that much.
“You’ll have to excuse Mattie; she’s not as cultured as the rest of us,” Mattie’s boyfriend, Markus, said as he obnoxiously held his pinky out while sipping on his rum and Coke.
“Come on, guys; this is a great place for me to recruit people for Dating the Rich. You know we have that huge summer bonus going on right now, and I could really use that extra cash. Plus, these paintings are amazing. Can you even imagine how much time and effort goes into making one of these?”
“Delilah Hunter, are you using us to help you get more referral bonuses for work?”
“Yes, Mattie, and you get free alcohol and an evening of class and art. You know you can get the bonus referrals, too, if you would just grab some of the cards when human resources is handing them out.”
“Barf. I have to talk to people enough on the phone all day. I don’t want to do it outside of work, too.”
“Come on, it’s not that bad. Look at that painting over there; it has beautiful colors. Don’t you think?”
It was terribly hard to get Mattie to go to any events that I wanted to go to. She didn’t like running, the theater, or art shows. So, the best we could do was alternate who got to pick the event for the night. I wasn’t thrilled she had dragged Markus along with us, but I didn’t want to go alone, so it would have to do for the evening.
Art shows were the perfect place to recruit for Dating the Rich and I really did need the bonus. The men and women at art shows like this one were exactly our target clientele. Although I worked in the computer department, not marketing, I had heard about the bonus opportunity and couldn’t turn it down.
Basically, I just had to hand out cards with a link to our website on it. I had a personal link attached to my name and if they used it to sign up, then I got the bonus. It was an easy way for me to earn a little extra cash while hanging out at an art show I wanted to see anyway.
“Del, six o’clock,” Mattie said quietly as she nodded toward a man who was coming our way.
“Wow, he’s cute,” I whispered back.
“Hey, doll, you want me to buy you a drink, baby?” the man asked in a thick, Brooklyn accent.
I really had nothing against people with a Brooklyn accent. In fact, I’m fond of people with accents different than mine. The guy was decent looking, for sure. His large biceps bulged out of his dress shirt and his deep, brown eyes were mesmerizing. Unfortunately, calling me baby and asking to buy me a drink at an event that served free alcohol really wasn’t a great way to pick me up.
On the surface, the cute guy would have been exactly the type of man I liked to date. He was clean cut, dressed well, and obviously took care of himself physically. The exterior package was not everything, though, and I really had learned that over the last year of trying to date. I would much rather date a decent-looking nice guy than a drop-dead-handsome jerk of a guy.
“Nope. Enjoy your night,” I said as I pulled Mattie with me and fled the scene.
Markus followed obediently behind us as we went over to the large painting I had pointed out earlier. Standing up close with such a large painting made each detail come to life. From across the room, it had looked like just some paint splattered onto the ten-foot-tall canvas, but here, I could see words and pictures embedded into the paint. In the red, there were words of hate and as I read them, my heart raced and my emotions stung. I quickly moved over to the blue paint with words of kindness and love and felt my heartrate slowing down as I reviewed the rest of the painting.
The blue in the painting really looked more like waves from an ocean and the red like the sunset, although I wasn’t exactly sure what the artist was trying to portray. Art was one of those things where if you saw something meaningful, then it was a significant painting to you. Another person might not see the same thing and wouldn’t be willing to pay the same price.
To me, art was just another expression of what was on the inside of someone. Music and theater were some other art forms that really showed the soul of the artists. That was why I loved the arts so much: the emotions and pure feelings that artists, singers, and actors put into their work were incredible to see.
Sometimes, I’d thought I really wanted to be an artist when I grew up, but then I became a mother and realized I had to have a job that was more responsible.
“One million dollars!” Mattie exclaimed so loudly that everyone in the room turned to look at us.
“Shhhhh.”
“Del, they are seriously selling this painting for one million dollars. How on earth did I not become an artist? If this is how much money they make for putting globs of paint onto a canvas, I seriously need to rethink my profession.”
“Come on now, this painting took a lot thought and work, look closely,” I said in defense of the artist. Although, I couldn’t imagine anyone would pay that high of a price for artwork, either. It seemed pretty astronomical.
“You just like it because it looks like something Connor would paint for you at school,” she laughed.
“I have to agree; it does look a lot like one of his paintings. Except he doesn’t charge as much for his artwork. I could make a real killing if I started marketing his school artwork. Maybe I should get started on that.”
“How is Connor doing in kindergarten?” Markus asked.
“Really good. I like that he doesn’t have to go to daycare all day. The school day is much better because he really loves to be busy, just like his dad. I don’t think he ever sits down.”
The mention of my late husband quickly had both Mattie and Markus quiet. Anytime I mentioned Spencer, people didn’t know what to say. It was as if I had set off a bomb in the room. First, total silence; then, a quick change of subject so no one had to talk about the dead husband or that fact that I was officially a widow at only twenty-seven years of age.
“Do you think anyone will buy this?” Mattie asked as she changed the subject to avoid being uncomfortable. “It seems like a lot of money for someone to pay for one painting. I mean, not even a rich person would want to pay this much, right?”
“I don’t know, probably. There are a lot of really wealthy people here, and art is so subjective. Maybe the painting will mean something to the person who purchases it. You just never know.”
“It blows my mind that there are people in the world who have an extra million dollars to just buy spattered paintings. I mean, think about it: if they can afford a painting like this, it means they’ve paid for all their bills, all the fun extra stuff, probably have a summer house and tons of extra money. You don’t just spend this kind of money if it’s your last million dollars. The person who buys this is going to be so filthy rich, they literally think this is just a fun purchase. That’s mindboggling to me.”
“A lot of our clients at work are this rich. That’s why it’s called Dating the Rich, Mattie,” I laughed.
“Technically, I know that, but it’s always an abstract thing since I’m just on the phones for customer service issues. Really, most of my conversations are with ditzy girls who are trying to set up their profiles and can’t figure out how to upload their scantily-clad photos. It’s odd to me that these girls end up landing the rich guys. I mean, come on, do they have no shame, at all? These guys are actually just looking for a piece of ass.”
“Yep, that’s basically what we do. Hook up old, rich men with beautiful, young women who want their money,” I said, and we both busted into laughter.
The dating criteria some of the men from our website had seemed a little ridiculous. Many of them were simply looking for a pretty girl to show off and didn’t actually care if she was smart, career oriented, or had any goals in her life. There were some guys who seemed to be looking for a real partner and love match, but they were much fewer than the other type of guys.
“Excuse me, ladies,” a young man said as he walked past us to put a sold magnet over the placard for the painting we were looking at.
“It sold? I can’t believe that,” Mattie exclaimed.
“Yep, we only have a couple paintings left; they are over there, if you’re interested.”
“Okay, thanks,” she replied as she tried to play off her shock as being upset because she was just about to buy it. I could hardly contain my laughter and turned away so the worker couldn’t see me. “I’ll go take a look. Thank you so much.”
“Hey, doll face,” the handsome Brooklyn man said as I turned almost directly into his chest. If I hadn’t stopped quickly, I would have run smack dab into him.
I had to admit the firmness of his chest was very appealing. It had been months since I had been laid, and although that wasn’t a driving factor in choosing a date, I was starting to consider the benefits of a one-night stand with this guy. With a babysitter in place and a whole evening to myself, it did seem like a waste not to at least have some sex.
“Are you enjoying the art show?” I asked in an effort to test the waters and see if I could handle an evening with him.
If I wasn’t looking for a guy to actually date, I could settle for someone a little less than perfect. This guy was handsome. He would probably be fun in bed. I started to play over the possibility of bringing him home with me, but first, I’d have to at least have a full conversation with the guy.
That was my problem when it came to one-night stands. I had this crazy notion in my head that they needed to be able to hold a conversation. It was certainly a woman-type of criteria for a one-night stand; I doubted guys worried if their women could hold a conversation before they brought them home for a night full of fun.
“Sure, man, this is on point. I love art shit.”
“Will you be buying any of the pieces?” I ventured to guess he wasn’t wealthy enough to purchase one of the paintings, but you never knew what someone had in their wallet.
Money wasn’t all that important to me, though. I didn’t plan on settling down with any man in the near future, so I was only asking as a form of reference to see why this guy was at the art show. If he was there to purchase something, at least I’d know we had art in common.
“Yeah, I might,” he said unconvincingly. “You think I should buy some of this painting crap?”
That was it: I couldn’t pretend to like this guy long enough to sleep with him. I could hardly stand having a conversation with him. This was exactly why my life as a one-night stand type of woman was so limited. I couldn’t sleep with someone I didn’t at least like, even if it was only going to be for one night.
“Well, I need to get back to my friends. It was nice talking to you. If you’re interested, I work at a high-end dating site and they are always looking for good-looking guys to join. Here’s a card,” I said, as I started to turn back to my friends.
“Hey, don’t leave yet,” he said as he grabbed my arm.
I turned back slowly and looked down at my arm and then up to him. My mouth pressed tightly in anger, and I waited to see if he would let go on his own or if I was going to have to punch him in the face. I really had no qualms about punching the guy right there, in front of everyone.
Guys who grabbed women like he did didn’t deserve the time of day. There wasn’t an excuse for it. Sure, I understood if a guy gently took my arm to get my attention; there was a difference, though. A guy who was just trying to get your attention was soft, gentle, and let go when you turned around. This guy had not gotten the memo on how to treat a woman – that was very clear.
“Sorry, babe, I just wanted to talk some more. Don’t be such a bitch about it.”
“Not going to happen,” I said as I tried to control my anger and not get too noisy in the middle of the crowded room. “Now, are you going to let go of my arm?”
“Um, yeah, sorry, darling,” he said. “No harm, no foul.”
“Don’t touch a woman like this again. It’s not okay. Do you understand?”
“Whatever,” he said as he stormed off.
As I turned back to my friends, an inkling of misery flashed through my mind. I certainly wouldn’t be having a night full of unadulterated sex. My prospects were getting slimmer and slimmer as I got older; now I understood why some women ended up being single all their life.
Once you passed that age where you were willing to compromise, you moved into an era where you were self-sufficient and lame guys just weren’t needed. I was definitely self-sufficient, and as good as an orgasm sounded, I wasn’t that desperate for one.
“Another drink?” Markus asked Mattie and me.
“Yep, keep them coming. No reason to turn down some free liquor. Plus, if I get a few more in me, maybe I’ll be able to get the rest of these referral cards handed out,” I said as I held out a stack of a dozen cards.
“Del, seriously! Are you really going to hand all those out?”
“Yep, we get a five-hundred-dollar bonus for anyone who signs up with our referral. I could really use the money. There never seems to be enough.”
“Isn’t the house paid for, after…you…know? I mean…”
“Yes, Mattie. After Spencer died, I used the life insurance to pay off the house, and I still had a decent amount left. But it’s been four years and we have dwindled the remaining money away. Luckily, I get paid a decent salary or we wouldn’t be able to keep the house. I pay two thousand dollars a month just for taxes and insurance; there’s no way I would have been able to stay there if we had a mortgage payment.”
“I’m glad you guys got to keep the house. That’s an important part of stability for Connor,” Mattie said in one of her brief, real moments of talk about my life after the death of my husband. “Should we go find Markus? I think he’s lost.”
“Sure, let’s go over to the bar in the front. There was a pretty bartender there,” I laughed.
As much as I loved Mattie, I didn’t really like her boyfriend Markus much at all. I knew we were going to find him talking to some pretty girl and it would break Mattie’s heart. I’d urged her to leave him so many times, though, that it wasn’t even funny anymore.
“Hey, he only cheated once; he’s not going to do it again,” Mattie said. “We’ve talked about it.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I was only joking. I’m sure there is just a big line,” I said, although I didn’t think that, at all.
Sure enough, as we strolled over to the bar, there was Markus chatting up the model look-a-like redhead who was talking way more than she was making drinks. My heart sank at the idea that Mattie was staying with this guy. Of course, I couldn’t tell her to leave her boyfriend anymore; I could only hope that someday she’d be confident enough to be alone.
So many people told me I was strong for being a single mom. I never really thought of myself as strong. You just did what you had to do in situations where you had to step up. What were my other options? Sulk away and give up on parenting my son? Obviously, I wasn’t going to do that.
Sure, times had been really rough right after my husband’s car accident. I had been home on extended maternity leave and to be honest, wasn’t planning on going back to work. Dating the Rich was a new company, and I worked as a secretary straight out of college. I had only worked there a few months when I got pregnant, and as soon as I had Connor, I knew I wanted to stay home with him. Luckily, Spencer was agreeable to my plan.
But everything changed one warm July night. Spencer had been driving home to Los Angeles from San Francisco. He had stayed late to help a client, and from the accident report, it sounded like he had fallen asleep at the wheel before he drove off the road.
Nothing could have prepared me for being a single mother and I certainly hadn’t ever thought I would have to be one. It was harder than I could have imagined, not having another adult around to help out with the day-to-day things.
I certainly couldn’t imagine what Mattie would have to deal with if she stayed with Markus and got married like they were planning. Nope, I wasn’t planning on getting married anytime soon – if ever again. I was accustomed to my single life, and it suited me just fine.
“Don’t say a word,” Mattie said as we walked up to Markus. “You are one hell of a guy. You think I’m just going to keep dating you when you do stuff like this?”
“Oh, babe, nothing was happening. I was just getting your drinks,” he said, yet he didn’t have a single drink in his hand.
“I’m going to get going, Mattie; I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
“It’s okay, Del; we just need to talk for a second and then I’ll go look at the art with you,” Mattie said. “I’m sorry. It will just take a minute.”
“No worries. I’m going to walk around. We can talk about it tomorrow at work,” I winked. “Take care of yourself.”