“Mommy, what is this thing?” Tanner held up a dark brown blob of an ornament. It slowly spun on the metal hook in front of him. The look of disgust on his normally adorable face was laughable.
I stood from the couch and walked over to him. “Tanner, honey, Mommy made that when she was in preschool.”
“It’s really ugly,” he said, curling his lip. “Like super, duper, uper ugly.”
“It’s sentimental,” I said and ruffled his sandy blonde hair and laughed. There was something precious about the fact that kids didn’t have a filter. Not in the slightest.
I took the ornament from him and examined the damage that another year in a box took on the fragile piece. I think it was supposed to be in the shape of a bear made from clay. One of the eyes was missing and there were several chips on the surface, but Mom insisted we keep it throughout the years. I knew not to throw it away. It was the first ornament we hung every year. She’d definitely look for it.
The door in the kitchen squeaked open.
Speak of the devil…
“Rainey?” Mom called out.
“In here,” I said, quickly placing the ornament on the tree. Tanner had already put several ornaments on the tree, so I had to make it look like we’d done that one first.
The branch bowed under the weight of the ornament, and a few needles dropped to the ground. Tanner insisted we had a real tree every year. I had his Dad, Killian to thank for that. Killian had told Tanner that real trees were the only option for Christmas. Thinking of Killian made my head hurt. He had a stubborn personality that had a way of grating on my nerves.
And at the impressionable age of six, anything Killian said was final in Tanner’s eyes. And I couldn’t say much. He didn’t see his father often, and I wanted to give him as normal of a childhood as I could even though his parents were separated.
“Grandma!” Tanner cheered. “Want to help me put the ornaments on the tree?”
Mom stood in the doorway, holding a plastic container in her hands. She narrowed her eyes at the tree and seemed satisfied when they landed on the ancient bear slash blob ornament. She put the container down in the kitchen then came back into the living room, raking her fingers through her short blonde hair as if the walk upstairs had ruined her perfectly coiffed style.
“Of course I do.” She smiled down at my son.
“Let me warn you now…” he paused and glanced back at me before leaning in toward my mother and lowering his voice. “Some of these are ugly. Really, really ugly, Grandma.”
She laughed before turning to me. “I don’t understand why you’re setting up so soon,” she said, her arms folded across her chest. “That tree might not last until Christmas.”
“Tanner insisted that we get the tree as soon as Thanksgiving was over.” I shrugged. In a way it was a good idea, but my mother was probably right. I wasn’t going to last. I promised myself I was going to get a job before Christmas. By decorating early, that was one less thing I had to do while I focused on interviews.
“I’m going to water it every day!” Tanner bounced around excitedly. He’d already hung about ten ornaments in a small clump on the tree right at his eye level, and we were running out of the - quickly.
“Honey spread them out a little more.” I ruffled his hair.
“Let me help you, dear,” Mom said and started for the ornament box. Most of the ornaments were from her collection, but she saved most of the fragile ones for her fake tree that would go up later in December. She was always last minute, but maybe it was an activity that she and Tanner could do while I was interviewing. Or working. I hoped for the latter.
Mom had to squeeze by me since the room was too small for three people, a tree and numerous boxes of decorations.
“Grandma, you’re tall, how about you put on the ornaments near the top and I’ll do the bottom ones,” Tanner said.
“That’s a good plan,” Mom said, digging into the box between them.
I sat back down on the couch and watched them put a few on the tree. Mom tried to give Tanner a history lesson on each piece, but he wasn’t paying attention. He frequently had that blank expression on his face when I was trying to tell him something important too.
“Do you want some coffee?” I asked. I already knew the answer before she said it. Mom was a caffeine addict.
“Do you need to ask?” she replied, giving me one of her famous looks. My mother could convey a how range of emotions with one of the many expression she loved to use.
I went into the kitchen and pulled out a filter and the can of coffee. There was just enough for one pot, so I jotted down a note to pick up more. My grocery list was getting larger each week and with no paycheck, I’d have to borrow more money from my parents. I knew they didn’t mind, but I hated doing it. I made a mental note to go downstairs to use their computer and find at least three more job openings this week. I dumped the remainder of the coffee into the filter and filled the water reservoir.
While the coffee was brewing, I glanced at the food container on the counter and peeled the top away from one corner. The scent of the lasagna made my stomach growl. It was still warm. I grabbed a fork from the drawer and took a quick bite. So delicious! I quickly covered the food again and placed it in my refrigerator for tonight. I was afraid of eating the whole damn thing if I saw it again.
RaineyI walked back to the living room as if I hadn’t sneaked a taste.“What’s Dad up to today?” I asked, opening the next box of decorations. Tinsel burst from the stuffed box and I tried to untangle it.“He’s checking some job.” Mom snapped her fingers and I looked up at her. She mimed swiping her hand over her hair.I did the same and realized I had a chunk of lasagna in my hair. Busted. I smiled at her and tied my hair up into a messy bun. It was always in my face. I needed a cut and coloring really bad, but that wasn’t in the budget this month.She rolled her eyes. “You never could wait.”“It’s so good, though, Mom.”“Well, you know how your father is with leftovers. I need to give it to someone.”Dad hated leftovers. It was a repeated argument in their house. At least Tanner and I would benefit from Dad’s pickiness. Though I had an idea she made two lasagnas instead of one, knowing we would be able to eat it for a few days.“Can I have some too?” Tanner asked. He was a scrawny
MichaelMy body was stiff as hell when I woke the next morning. Something about switching beds or the way I fucked the blond the day before had my hurting in places I didn’t realize could hurt.I ran my hand down my stomach and stroked my erection as I glanced over at the clock, wondering if I had time to treat myself to a release before starting what was sure to be a long day.Lisa crossed my mind before Cynthia took her place.“Nope.” I got up. I wasn’t jacking off to the memory of the women in my past, at least not that morning. Next best thing to self-love was the gym. Thankfully, I had one on the second floor of my penthouse. It would have to do.The sun was barely over the horizon, which made the room just light enough to distinguish the outline of each piece of equipment. I enjoy running on the treadmill when it's still early. Looking over the NYC skyline from the 53rd floor gave me an adrenaline spike to start my day. I pressed the buttons on the machine for one of the harder
MichaelA half-hour later, I was at my desk. I’d only finished about half the smoothie. A few days away from it had made my taste buds turn against it. I choked down the rest of it, not delaying the inevitable. The chalky after taste was still in my mouth when I picked up the phone.I called Sandra first. She answered on the third ring.“Hello?” a muffled voice said from the other end of the call.“Sandra?” I asked, checking to see I had the right number.She coughed and loudly cleared her throat. I pulled the speaker away from my ear.“Yeah, boss. Sorry. I’m getting a cold.”Getting? She sounded like hell. I rubbed my forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache. She spearheaded all of the interviews for the assistant position; I needed her well, like now.“Are you healthy enough to chat?” I asked firmly. It was rhetorical and she knew that.There was a shuffling sound on the other end. “Of course I am. What do you need?”“How many interviews are set up for tomorrow?” My headache gr
RaineyAn ear-piercing alarm shattered my peaceful sleep. I sat up in bed and attempted to catch my breath after being startled awake. I’d set Killian’s ringtone to be the most annoying sound on the planet, so I’d know exactly who it was when he called. Hearing it that early in the morning wasn’t the most pleasant way to wake up. I grabbed my phone, ripping the charger from the socket. I pressed the END button and tossed the phone on the bed before throwing myself down on my back again. I shoved my hair out of my face and tried to calm my racing heart. It was a shitty way to wake up and he probably thought it was some sort of hilarious joke.Why the hell was Killian calling me so early? I glanced over at the clock and my heart ramped up again.Shit! Shit! Shit! I launched myself off the bed. Why didn’t my alarm go off? I grabbed my phone again and checked the clock app.Damn it!I accidentally set it for six p.m. instead of a.m. It was a good thing I pulled out my clothes for the inte
RaineyTwice on the way to the train, Killian’s ring tone blared from my phone again. I didn’t need his shit today. I pressed END every single time. Even though he wouldn’t stop calling, he didn’t leave a message or send a text. So obviously whatever he needed wasn’t that important or else he’d try to find another method of contacting me. The only emergency I cared about was Tanner and he was safe with my parents. If I picked up the phone Killian would say something stupid and mess with my head somehow.It was only during those last months of our marriage that I realized how much he held me back in life. He had been the one to go to college while I was stuck paying the bills by taking odd temp jobs. Then when Tanner came along, Killian didn’t want me to work. It was only later that I understood that he wanted to be the big-shot breadwinner with a wife at home who would be at his beck and call. I had drive once and it took spending everything I had (plus money from my parents) on a law
MichaelMy first interview wasn’t until nine. Normally I would have arrived at the office by seven. Today was different. I stayed up until midnight, catching up on all of the work that I missed while I was in Bar Harbor. I wanted to hold onto that last bit of vacation, so I took my time getting ready. Being the boss definitely had its perks.I chose one of my favorite Italian suits to wear today. It was comfortable and that’s what I needed to get through all of these interviews.On the way down to the lobby, I decided to treat myself to breakfast and I knew exactly where I wanted to go. While I enjoyed the fresh selections of food in Maine, I missed the typical New York staples in my diet. And the one at the top of my list was Beth’s Bakery.My phone lit up with emails the second I stepped outside. My driver, Constantine, was standing by the car waiting for me. The cold breeze chilled me and I hustled to the car.“Good morning, Constantine.”He tipped his hat to me. “Hello, Mr. Carrin
MichaelThe traffic downtown was heavier at this hour, but I wasn’t in a rush. I still had plenty of time before the first interview. And I ate the bagel slower than normal to extend the experience.While driving around Bar Harbor, the people smiled and waved as you passed. In New York, everyone’s heads were down, focused on where they needed to go. The friendly faces were nice, but I felt more at ease with the scowling New Yorkers. This city was full of businessmen and no one bothered to notice another suit or luxury car.Even in the traffic, Constantine managed to get me to my building by eight-thirty.He opened the door for me as I was dusting bagel crumbs from my coat. I stood up and took my briefcase from him.“Have a great day, Constantine,” I said, adjusting my overcoat.“You too, Sir. Six o’clock pickup?”“Yes. I will have Sandra call you if that changes.”“Have a good day, Mr. Carrington.”I nodded and headed toward my building. Another perk of showing up later was less traff
RaineyI couldn’t stop staring at the gorgeous man walking away from me. That was Michael Carrington? My almost-future boss? I remember seeing a small picture of him in the article I read and he was classically handsome, but he was even more attractive in person. And genuinely nice. His dark hair barely touched his shoulders and it looked incredibly soft. His eyes were so blue, like the ocean. He had seriously lucked out in the genetics department.Hell. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to apply for the job. He was dreamy on a level I wasn’t used to contending with. He’d be professional, right? I wasn’t at all his type. I was homely. Comely. Just me. My thoughts shifted and I realized I’d pushed on his receptionist in front of him.How long had he been standing there listening to me? I tried to think about what I said to the poor woman that had to put up with me. I hoped I didn’t say anything rude. Although if I had been rude, I doubted he would have given me the interview. Why did he give