Milk Money

by Jude E. McNamara

  “Gotta run Mac. Got appointments. Thanks for letting me vent. Your turn next time.”

  “Anytime Harper. Feel better sweetie. Talk to you later.”

  As I headed out my office doors to go to my appointment with Dr. Richards, I knew this ride to her office was not going to be good. Malcom had dumped Winston again and was back in the driver’s seat. Thank God I had freshened myself up, put on makeup, combed my hair, and thrown on my Bulgari sunglasses to cover the bruises near my eye. Hell, I couldn’t seem to catch a break today. I just wanted some peace and quiet. Not to mention, I was feeling nauseated again. My stomach was turning backflips from the day’s excitement. Maybe these fools were going to give me an ulcer.

  “Are you okay, Harper?” Malcom asked, grabbing my hand softly and pulling me closely into his chest.

  My body stiffened and I stepped back from his hold reflexively. Malcom opened my door, his expression pained.

  “Yes I am, thanks to you. Thank you for coming to my aid,” I said, as he closed my door, then slid into the driver’s seat.

  “I always knew Brooks McKenna wanted you,” Malcom said. “I just didn’t know how bad.”

  I turned my head and looked out the window, not wanting to run up that flagpole again whatsoever and revisit these discussions about the men in my life.

  “I turned him over to the police. They are going to want to take a statement from you. I have some friends on the force. I told them you weren’t in any shape to talk, but I’d bring you in to give a statement.”

  “Thank you Malcom. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  “Listen, we need to talk,” Malcom said honking the horn at the car in front of us.

  “I can’t do this today Malcom, please.”

  “You need to know that the senator has asked me to head up his security team,” Malcom said, dismissing my pleas. “Your mother seems to think it’s a good idea. It would be a promotion of sorts for me. I think it would make you and me and . . . well you know . . . I think it would make things less complicated. It’s getting hard to watch you do what you’re doing, knowing how I feel about you.”

  Oh thank heavens for my mother. There is a God.

  I swear my mother must be psychic or something.

  “Up until today, I didn’t want to seriously consider the move. But now, with everything that’s happened, I think it’s a good idea,” Malcom said.

  “Well, I think it would be a good move for you, Malcom, promotion and all. I don’t want to be the one to hold your career back. And Daddy values your skills.”

  “Umm,” Malcom moaned.

  “I don’t think you should let this opportunity pass you by. It won’t be like I won’t get to see you and talk to your from time to time as long as you’re on Daddy’s detail,” I said trying to hold back anything telling in my voice.

  I was happy this was happening. But it was still bittersweet nonetheless. Malcom had protected me from Brooks. That wasn’t lost on me.

  I knew Malcom was taking this move harder than I was. So much for me and my friends with benefits. Friends with benefits was starting to turn into friends bringing on headaches. Furthermore, I’d have to hire someone new to head my security team and it was going to be bad timing to have to do security interviews in the middle of an acquisition.

  “When do you plan to switch teams?” I asked solemnly.

  “The end of the month, as soon as a replacement for me is secured. I will need to help the guys with the transition. I can set up some replacements for you to interview,” Malcom said as the car pulled to the curb in front of Dr. Richards’s office.

  “That would be fine. Keep me posted.”

  I pulled out my phone and texted Mackenzie, Malcom just quit.

  Malcom came around and opened my door. He waved to the suburban behind us.

  “Winston will drive you back.”

  The universe must be in a bad mood; piling it on today, Mackenzie texted me back.

  Malcom reached down and pulled my chin up to his lips and kissed me softly on the lips.

  I waited for any electricity. Nothing. Not like Nicky.

  “Good-bye, Malcom.”

  “My goodness Harper, are you okay? You look like you’ve been in an accident,” Dr. Richards said, looking incredibly alarmed. She rushed to my side to help me to my chair, even though I didn’t feel I needed help.

  So much for hiding bruises under makeup.

  “I’m okay Dr. Richards. Thank you for asking.”

  Dr. Richards waited patiently for me to speak.

  “One of my friends with benefits showed up to my office today intoxicated and he got out of hand. I’m bruised from his drunken assault on me. Believe it or not my feelings are hurt worse than I look,” I moaned.

  “Well you’re done with that one, right?” She frowned, searching my face for agreement.

  “For sure. There was nothing really to that relationship for me anyway. It was just something to do. But I realize now that not everyone can manage a sexual relationship and keep emotional distance. Even my security chief quit on me today. Another one down,” I sighed.

  “How do you feel about all this, Harper?”

  “Well it was time. My friend Reese kept telling me mixing my sex life and my business life with these guys was too difficult. Reese always says “never play where you get your pay.” He’s right. First it started off being fun, and over time it just became burdensome,” I sighed, feeling totally exasperated.

  I couldn’t decide which was more sore, my body or my ego.

  “Well you’ve had an emotionally charged month,” Dr. Richards said. “I heard about the bomb threat, and the chaos and hysteria that it caused at Lincoln Center. I understand your company is in play for this big acquisition. It’s all over the financial pages. How are you holding up, dear?”

  “Yeah well the cat is pretty much out of the bag on the acquisition. Nothing is confidential anymore. I’m surprised the whole world doesn’t know my own bid numbers,” I shrugged. “I have Nicholas to thank for getting me out of Lincoln Center with my life,” I smiled shyly.

  “Ahhhh, Nicholas. So you decided to try the advice I offered the last time you were here,” Dr. Richards said inquisitively.

  “Well I kind of got thrown into his arms running for my life. It was a wake-up call for us both. He took good care of me. We both decided the least we could do was to try to work at forgiving each other for the things that have happened in our past. I feel good about it.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Dr. Richards said.

  “It feels like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders. When faced with the potential of death, we all of a sudden discovered our worth to each other. I don’t think so much anymore about how to hurt him.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Harper.”

  “My own hurt is subsiding in the process now, because he’s working really hard to build new memories between us and I’m letting him,” I said, keeping my face stoic and my hands folded neatly across my lap.

  I watched as Dr. Richards kept her poker face on as usual, searching my body language and honing in on the intonations of my words.

  “I see,” Dr. Richards nodded. “So have you decided how this new beginning of mending fences is going to proceed with Nicholas in light of the fact that you’re both in business competition with each other?”

  “Well we try not to talk about it too much. It is what it is. One thing we for sure agree on is that the acquisition is not for our own companies, but for our parents’ companies. So we’re kind of treating the whole matter as if it’s not us. You know, just our families . . . our parents . . .” I said softly.

  “Interesting,” Dr. Richards said.

  I wondered what she was thinking. I cocked my head to the side and squinted. We both paused. I squirmed in my chair and looked up at the ceiling for a bit. When I broke the silence, I forced myself to sound a tad more upbeat.

  “I’ve arranged to meet your associate, Dr. Stone
at the Stone Fertility Clinic,” I said, trying to sound more cheery.

  “Oh so you’ve decided to proceed along the parenthood path alone?” Dr. Richards said.

  “Well I’m keeping my options open. The fact is, my biological clock is ticking. I want this for me. Relationally, I don’t know where things are going to be end up for me with a man in my future . . .”

  “You mean Nicholas,” she said.

  “Okay . . . Nicholas,” I agreed, nodding my head. “I can at least make an informed decision in the meantime just so I know all the facts. I really am making an effort to try to clean up my act and get to forgiveness with Nicholas. I’m learning to be more compromising in my relationship with him and others. Although, others,” I said with air quotes, “are exiting stage left very rapidly it seems.”

  “As in your friends with benefits?” Dr. Richards asked.

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Richards nodded her head slowly as if to suggest that was the right thing that needed to happen now in this stage of my life.

  “But my not having a baby is not negotiable,” I said firmly. “I need this for me. In more ways than one.”

  “And those ways are what?” Dr. Richards asked.

  “I need to heal from the baby I lost ten years ago. I know I said I’ve grieved that loss, and I have. I’ve gone through my five stages of grief and completed the cycle. But it’s just kind of nice to know that if I make another baby now, that there will always be a guardian angel sister or brother watching over him or her. That gives me some peace of mind,” I said.

  “And do you plan to involve Nicholas in this process? How do you think he would feel about this choice just as you are opening the doors to a new relationship with him? Would he be joining you in the rearing of a new baby that’s not his? Is that something you think he can handle? Does Nicholas want a baby?” she asked.

  “Nicholas doesn’t get to have a say in any of this.”

  “Oh?” Dr. Richard said with an element of surprise.

  “I want to have a baby regardless of whether Nicholas and I succeed at our newfound relationship or not. I don’t know what he wants.”

  “Remember, Harper, a healthy relationship is all about openness. Compromise. Trust. This is a decision that is not to be taken lightly. The two of you should discuss this together. We’ll talk in our next session about how things go at the fertility clinic,” Dr. Richards said, moving to hand me an appointment card for my next visit. “I’d like to explore this with you further.”

  “Thank you Dr. Richards. I’ll see you soon.”

  I headed out the door to my waiting limousine thinking about the words Dr. Richards spoke. I guess she wanted me to go slow. Think things out. My mind was in a fog and on overload after today’s events. I pulled my sunglasses down on my face to shield the bruises. Malcom had disappeared and Winston was back.

  The Marimba played on my phone. It was a text message from Nicholas.

  Kitten. Dinner. Genie in a bottle rub. Making Magic.

  I called Charlotte back at the office.

  “Charlotte, can you reschedule my appointment with Dr. Stone at the Stone Fertility Clinic? I’m pooped. I’m going to join Nicholas for a quiet dinner tonight. Cancel everything else on my calendar. You can take off early too. You’ve had a hard day as well. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I said.

  Charlotte thanked me and hung up. I texted Nicholas back, Your place or mine?

  Mine, Nicholas texted back.

  Might as well get this over with. Bruises and all.

  Drama time for you, Harper.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nicholas

  “Do you mind, Lucia, if we wrap up all this work on the plastics presentation this evening? I know you’ve been working hard on this, but I need a break. I promised Harper she and I would do a quiet dinner this evening.”

  “Not at all Nicky. I’m pretty worn out myself. By the way, Three called an hour ago. Big Daddy is looking for an update from you on how things are progressing with the acquisition. It’s been over a month since he’s chatted with you about it at the fundraiser.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be sure to give Big Daddy an update when I get a free moment,” I grumbled.

  “Oh, Mallory and Jessica sent a thank you card with smiley faces, thanking you for the cupcakes you sent them from Magnolia’s for helping Three at the fundraiser. They want to know when you’re ‘coming out to play on The Julianna’,” Lucia said, flipping their thank you card at me. “They want to know if you’ll bring Big Daddy along.” Lucia bit her lip while making air quotes with her fingers, trying to hold back her laughter.

  “For the record Lucia, no Mallory, no Jessica, no Big Daddy, and definitely not The Julianna,” I demanded, arching my brow with a frown. “Those gals would give Big Daddy a heart attack,” I said as I stalked over to my wet bar.

  “I seriously doubt that,” Lucia said, reaching over our worktable to gather up all of our working PowerPoint presentation layouts.

  “Look Nicky, I’m getting out of your hair. I’m beyond tired today and need a mental health holiday right about now,” Lucia said, answering the call from the Becker Towers Penthouse concierge.

  “Yes, let her in please,” Lucia said.

  “Nicky, Harper’s on her way up. So, what are you feeding her for dinner tonight?” Lucia said curiously, shuffling papers and not paying very much attention.

  “Me,” I chuckled. “I’m going to be the meal.”

  “Jesus, Nicky. I swear. I wonder sometimes what she even sees in you,” Lucia said, looking me up and down, rolling her eyes at me.

  “You know I’m all that and a bag of chips, Lucia,” I laughed, grabbing her by the waist, lifting her off the floor, and swinging her around.

  “Put me down Nicky,” Lucia said, slapping her hands against my chest.

  It felt good getting Lucia’s goat. I lived for these moments.

  “You know ever since you and Harper starting working on putting your relationship back together, I’ve noticed the change in your demeanor, Nicky. You seem to be so much more relaxed and at peace these days. Calmer. I’m happy for you.”

  We both flinched before I could respond, hearing the doorbell ring. Lucia buzzed Harper inside.

  I ran past Lucia to greet Harper myself. Lucia was practically grabbing the side of my desk to balance herself. I’d almost knocked her over in my excitement. Although Harper and I had talked several times a day since we left Vermont, it had been three weeks since I had seen her. I was taking things slow. I didn’t want to come on to her too hard, too fast and risk losing her again. We had trust issues to work through.

  “Hey Kitt, how are you? What the fuck? . . . Oh my God . . . What the hell happened to you, Harper Carmichael Montgomery?” I said, looking at her in a state of shock.

  She pulled the big dark sunglasses off her face.

  “Have you been in an accident or something, Kitten? Jesus, Mary, Mother of God,” I exclaimed in shock, noticing the bruises on her face and arms.

  “The only accident I’ve been in has the name Brooks Fitzgerald McKenna’s name on it,” Harper said, gliding slowly past me.

  Lucia was completely silent, wide-eyed. She was looking at Harper and then looking back at me. I suspected like me, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “What does that mean Kitten?” I asked softly.

  I was forcing myself to try to maintain my cool for Harper’s sake. Inwardly I had begun counting to ten. I started praying to the Gods of Cool, Calm, and Collected to keep me in their care. There was no way I was going to be able to keep it together. My anger was building. Surely I was going to lose it. I closed my eyes for a beat and tried to slow my breathing in order to calm myself down. That wasn’t working too well, because all I could do was see that fuckwad’s face and imagine that shit-eating smirk. I could just see it on his face. Hurting and assaulting my baby maker.

  “Well specifically, Nicholas,” Harper said, clearing her throat and coughing. “You
see it’s like this . . . Nicky,” Harper muttered, taking way too fucking long to get her words out.

  I waited.

  “You see . . . Brooks . . . Brooks . . . well you see Brooks . . .” Harper closed her eyes and exhaled loudly.

  “Brooks what?” I said as gently as I could, running both my hands through my hair. I was starting to lose what little control I had. “Out with it, Kitten,” I said, firmly willing myself to remain calm.

  I watched intently as Harper took another deep breath and sighed.

  “Let me get you glass of wine,” Lucia said. “Sit down, sweetie. White or red?”

  “White, please,” Harper answered.

  Lucia moved slowly to the wet bar and poured Harper a glass of Riesling, handing it to her. Lucia poured two shots of 80 Proof Stolichnaya vodka neat for both her and me. We waited. I felt like time was frozen. Harper was twiddling her sunglasses in her hands, fidgeting and sipping her wine slowly.

  At last she spoke. “Brooks showed up in my office today. He was drunk, Nicholas.” She sighed heavily again. “I’m sure that if he had not been drunk things would have turned out differently,”

  She started speeding up the pace of her words as if she had to say it all in one breath just to get it out. “He was babbling about how I was his woman. He ripped my blouse. We struggled. But nothing bad happened, I assure you. Except he put his hand under my skirt,” she said, twirling the strands of her long black hair nervously. “But you know what I mean, Nicky.”

  “No, I fucking do not know what you mean, Harper,” I said through clenched teeth. I could feel the heat flushing my face. Oh almighty Gods of Cool, Calm, and Collected, have mercy on my soul tonight, lest I kill that social climbing motherfucker Brooks Fitzgerald McKenna. I bit my bottom lip hard so hard I thought it might bleed.

  “Brooks claimed he was competing for Joduku Plastics so he could win it and give it to me as a wedding present,” Harper said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I have no idea how he got that stupid idea in his head. I have no plans to marry him,” she said, shaking her head in exasperation.