Mom: Don’t worry about anything. I made sure you’ll be taken care of.
I don’t understand what she means exactly, but I assume she means financially. I know she’s just looking out for me, but I don’t want anything more from David Black.
I text back. Thanks but no thanks. I don’t need anything. Just take care of you.
Her response is immediate, as if she’s sitting there with her phone just like me. Just picturing the two of us connected over that distance makes me want to cry.
Mom:You’re my daughter. It’s my job to look out for you no matter how grown up you are.
My eyes begin to prickle as I read the message. I hate being so far away from her. It’s only a few hours’ drive away, but the divide feels massive today.
It’s been a hell of a couple months, to say the least. The moment I stepped off the plane and turned my phone off airplane mode, messages poured in. Most of them were from Levi, which I refused to read, and a good portion were from my mom asking me where I was, but the one that stood out most was from David Black.
My stepfather proved to me that day what a bastard he truly is. He wasted no time at all ensuring that I never returned to Chicago or Levi. According to him, if I entered the city again, it would effectively void our agreement and all the help he promised would cease immediately. I don’t know how he knew I’d left, but he did. What he didn’t know is that I have no plans to go anywhere near him, his son, or that city in the foreseeable future. And now that my mother is filing for divorce, I won’t have to.
David Black’s threat to tear me and my future apart nagged at me since the moment I stepped onto the tarmac. To get where I needed to be, I had to accept his help, but that didn’t last long.
The thing I’ve learned about David is that he has a serious God complex. He’s used to barking orders and getting his way. For some reason, he thought that without his support, I wouldn’t be able to pursue my dreams. But that’s the thing about dreams. If you want them bad enough, you’ll find a way to make them a reality. And I have.
The moment I saw a chance to get out from under his thumb, I jumped on it.
I used to wonder if it was a mistake not to take the Black name when my mother married David, but now I’m beginning to think it’s an asset. The Black name comes with strings, stigmas that can’t be easily outrun, but no one looks twice at the girl named Marquis. While the media runs wild with stories about the billionaire playboy who’s off winning games and stealing hearts, I’m here building the life I’ve dreamed of.
Putting out feelers in the medical community, I lucked out in finding someone willing to invest in my dreams. He’s some hot shot stationed in New York with too much money who wishes to remain a silent partner. At first, it felt kind of shady, but after meeting with his financial advisor and lawyer and combing through all the legalese, I decided to take a risk and go for it.
With this arrangement, I have all the seed money I’ll need to get the business up and running and hire all the help I’ll need to keep it moving in the right direction. The best thing about it is that I don’t have to rely on David. He can’t hold anything over my head because this is all me. The only stipulation with this investor was, as co-owner and shareholder, he gets a portion of the profits for a maximum of one year starting from the time the books register in the black. It seems a small price to pay.
Tomorrow is the grand opening of the Marquis Rehabilitation Center, and while I only have two patients added to the schedule so far, I have faith that the books will be packed with names before long.
It’s just as well that we’re not busy. Even with all my staff in place, there’s a ton still left to do. I’ve spent nearly every waking hour and then some unpacking and setting up equipment, but there’s only so much one person can do.
Chronic back pain and sleepless nights have led to a profound lethargy that I just can’t seem to kick. Which is to be expected when you’re in your second trimester.
I never told Levi about the baby, and I have no plans to. He hasn’t reached out to me in four months and I have no inclination to do so either. What we had was strictly for fun. Like he said, I needed to let go and live a little. Well, I did. Maybe a little too much. But I can’t say that I regret it. Not now that I have my little muffin on the way.
It’s going to be a tough journey. I never planned to be a single mother, but that’s what you do when you sleep with a man who’s physically and emotionally unavailable. The only person who knows about the pregnancy is my mother and she’s not spilling any secrets. It just sucks that she can’t be here with me right now. I’d love to have someone to talk to about all of this. Someone to share it with, but part of the reason I’ve been able to stay so far under the radar this long is because we agreed that she should keep her distance, at least until the divorce is final.
David is a ruthless son of a bitch. He’s trying to find any way he can to void the prenup and send her away with nothing. But my mom’s smart. All that time I thought she was sitting back, taking his prolonged absences in stride, when in reality, she was building a case. The private detective she hired dug up a lot of interesting information that I’m sure David Black would pay a pretty penny to keep buried.
As long as my mother gets a fair shake and the media doesn’t come knocking on my door, then I’m happy to wash my hands of it all. That’s not my life anymore. It never was.
I’m kneeling on a blue mat spread out on the floor of the main training room where most of the rehab equipment is housed, doing cat stretches to alleviate some of the cramping in my lower back, when a knock on the door breaks my concentration.
“What is it?” I ask as I continue arching my back. I can’t imagine going through another four months of this, and it’s only going to get harder when I start seeing patients and have to be on my feet all day. I’ll need to find another person to fill in for me before too long. It’s just another worry to add to the list of worries that I’ll deal with tomorrow.
“Miss Marquis,” Janey from reception greets me. “It’s almost nine. Do you want me to start shutting down for the night?”
Sighing, I drop back on my knees and rest my hands on the tops of my thighs. Janey stands just inside the doorway, looking as fresh and alive as she did when she arrived this morning. Not a hair out of place. I don’t think I ever looked like that a day in my life. I could easily be jealous of her, but she’s too sweet a person not to like.
“Go ahead and shut down everything but this room. I’m going to stick around a while longer and make sure everything is set for tomorrow morning.”
The skin between her pale blonde eyebrows creases into a frown but, I never knew it was possible, the look is somehow cute on her. “You’re going to be here alone?”
I wave her off. “I’ve done it a hundred times. I’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “I can stick around a little longer. What do you need help with?”
“That’s not necessary, Janey. Really, I’ll be okay.” I shoo her back toward the door. “You go on home and get some rest. I’m going to need everyone in their best form tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely positively. Now get out of here before I have to break out my mom voice. I’ve been practicing,” I warn her with a teasing grin.
She’s smiling as she waves and turns out of the room. Once she’s gone, I get back into position and resume stretching. It’s good to stay healthy and fit, especially now. All the books say it will help with labor and delivery and, boy, do I want all the help I can get.
Sometimes, when I’m alone like this, I find myself imagining what it could have been like. If I hadn’t left Chicago, if my mother had never married David, if Levi hadn’t turned his back on me four years ago. What would my life be like now? Would I still be preparing to have his baby? Would I be opening my own practice?