Just a Number (Downtown #1)

by Fifi Flowers

  Speaking of marriage. Suze was still shaking her booty, spinning her turntable at various clubs and at the paperback book launch party with her hot husband, Ian, standing next to her. Yes. They got married. And we found out that her hubby is one of the higher-ups, a board member for Woodland, Oliver and Associates. Apparently, their company was fine with a bit of office-hanky-panky going on. Dash and I, of course, attended their wedding in Santa Barbara along with some of our mutual friends. Tomasina designed their wedding bands. One of Lark’s designers created her gown.

  Of course, Lark made quite an entrance to Rex and Tomasina’s party, wearing a shimmering array of jewels, compliments of our jeweler friend, which matched a sapphire blue dress that hugged every curve. You had to oooh and ahh at that frock. You could’ve done the same, looking at her date. I, however, knew he was just a longtime friend of hers. They grew up together at the horse racing track. No, Cup, given name Reese, wasn’t the love of her life. “He” wasn’t too far away and judging by the look on her face and the overuse of concealer under her beautiful eyes, he was wreaking havoc on her heart, again. Men! They needed to be more like they are in books!

  Speaking of books, I had invited my mother to the party and extended the invitation to her book club friends. I didn’t think she would attend, but I thought if her club was invited, maybe it could be a group thing. Since she declined with an excuse, politely, I figured she did not even tell her lady friends. I’m sure if they knew the event was for a romance novel, they would’ve roped and tied her and dragged her along. I understood. She was dealing with adjusting to her new life without her husband.

  My father had died suddenly a couple months back; a massive heart attack in the assisted living facility took him from her permanently. My mother was relieved. Hugh was gone. He had left the day he ceased to know she was his wife. She said the man who remained was nothing more than a shell. He would have hated to live like he was; he was a proud man. She explained her feelings to us at his funeral service. Even in death, she continued to protect him. While I lost one family member, I gained more. I was reunited with my mother, my brothers, their wives and children. My extended family increased, as well. Dash, his friends, and even his father attended my father’s memorial in support of me. Tomasina, Lark, Hazel, and Suze were by my side, too.

  Sad that the first time I saw my mother in thirteen years, it was under those circumstances. It was nice to see her. We hugged. But as the saying goes, time heals all wounds; it didn’t apply in our case. I wasn’t certain it ever could. The damage had been done long before I left home. It wasn’t that she had driven me away with her actions or words. Those belonged solely to my father. Right or wrong in his mind, it hurt me… he hurt me. My mother did not, but she did not protect me, either. However, I have come to terms with both of them. What happened to me made me the person I am, and I like myself. And, I was ready to move on.

  I haven’t seen her since his service. Communication with my mother has continued mainly through the computer. It seemed easier for us. We were in a better place in our relationship than we ever had been. Little by little, we added a few phone calls. As of the last one, it was a bit strained. Maybe in the future, things would change.

  I did learn a great deal about my mother, Marian Dane, and myself in the last year exchanging emails with her.

  From: Willow Dane

  To: Marian Dane

  Giving Thanks

  Today at 8:00 AM

  Dear Marian/Mom,

  I have realized something from every email I’ve read from you. We weren’t so different. You compared us in a contrasting manner. You were wrong. You are a successful woman. You are a career woman. You were not only educated, but you were a teacher. You are still teaching us. You are strong.

  You knew what you wanted in life and accomplished your goals. You wanted to be a wife. You met a man who wanted a stay at home wife. You wanted to be a mother. You started a family.

  Running a household, you learned to cook, to clean, to shop, and to care for your children. You are the one that held our family together. You managed us all when we were well and when we were ill. You comforted us in times of need. You taught us right and wrong. You reprimanded us when we stepped out of line.

  While you were looking after everything going on in the house, you took care of yourself. You cleaned yourself up. You dressed yourself. You always looked pretty. You made sure you were healthy, so you could work your twenty-four seven, three hundred and sixty-five day-a-year job that allowed for no vacations. No time off. No paycheck. And never once did I hear you complain about anything.

  You said you were proud of me. I’d say I was the one who should be proud of you. I learned my profession. I worked hard. I went to work every day. But I could leave mine. I could walk away from it every day. I had paid vacations, and I took them. No one depended on me. I had no real obligations. You will continue to do your job until the day you join Dad. You will continue to bear all the burdens of being a wife and a mother. Marian Dane, you are an amazing woman. Thank you for teaching me how to be a strong, independent woman.

  Love you,

  Willow, Your Daughter

  Besides learning that Marian Dane was, in fact, not so different from other women, I learned that we shared similar interests, though our views about them often differed. I would’ve never understood so much about myself and what motivated me to do certain things in my life without reading her words. Simply, because if not for her emails, I never would’ve thought about them.

  I never thought she was strong. From my perspective, she was meek and fragile. I was the strong one. I went to a four year college. I was formally educated. I had a degree stylishly framed hanging in my office as proof for all to see. What did she have? Something I didn’t. She had life lessons to guide her. My strength was achieved out of need. Out of spite. Not for myself. To punish.

  Once I moved past the main objective of having a career, to prove that I could be a successful business woman, I found that it could also bring me happiness. My passion for fashion became my focus. How could I incorporate my love for the clothing world into my public relations job? A love I learned from my mother. Part of her career, she dressed for her job daily, appropriately for every occasion: carpool, sport practices, ballet classes, and business dinners. She researched different glamorous magazines and then shopped. I represented the people she followed, and I loved every minute of it. We were both career girls: an office for me, a home with a husband and children for her.

  With children, we differed only that I didn’t want any of my own. Otherwise, I loved being around them. I think the reason I was most adamant about not having children was because of my upbringing. While my parents weren’t terrible people (they didn’t abuse us or beat us), they preached to us their ideals or those of the generations before them. For me, those guidelines caused me frustration and pain. It is said that there is no instruction manual for raising children. They also say we learned from our parents. I knew my parents had learnt from theirs, and I didn’t want to be like them. Nor did I believe I was capable of teaching them. Maybe my own ideas weren’t correct, either. I wasn’t willing to experiment, and I was thankful that I found someone with my same aversion to childrearing.

  Like my mother, we both love our men. For Marian she wanted a marriage, kids and the white picket fence. Me, I didn’t want any of that. Not one part of that idealized dream. No permanent man for me. Just a number for fun, and then move on. That was before Dash breathed new desires into my life. He made me want to share treasured moments with someone. He made me think about forever… as in shacking up together, not the marriage thingy. We exchanged I love you freely on a daily basis. But, no exchange of vows. No wedding, but lots of honeymoons. Bottom line: Rockstar-yoga-guru made Corporate-girl very happy!

  The End

  Playlist…

  Shopping For Labels Fergie

  Dressed Up in Love Jennifer Hudson

  On the Floor JLO Jennifer Lopez
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  Holiday Green Day

  Counting Stars One Republic

  Calling On Angels Train

  Glamorous Fergie

  Drive By Train

  Just Like Heaven Katie Melua

  Daughters John Mayer

  Other Books by Fifi Flowers

  -All Standalone Books-

  A Window to Love, (Book 1, Windows Series)

  Reclining Nude in Chicago, (Book 1, Encounters Series)

  Awakening to You Trilogy: Complete Story

  A Window to Love

  (Book 1, Windows Series)

  Melissa Bennette, a young beautiful woman who has tragically lost her parents in a devastating plane crash, is set to spend another Christmas holiday alone until one night as she gazes into the dressed up holiday windows of New York City and her path crosses with the gorgeous man of her dreams.

  Evan Duke is the world’s top male model, dreamed about and wanted by women everywhere, but he only has eyes for her.

  This erotic tale of twists, turns and surprises stretches from twinkling lights of New York to the sun drenched beaches of Santa Monica to the art world of Paris. With each destination, the layers of their lives and closely held secrets fall away as a beautiful love grows out of the weeds of self doubt and heartbreak.

  This book contains sexually explicit material and is intended for adult readers only.

  A Window to Love, (Book 1, Windows Series)

  Available Now

  Click here: Amazon US

  Click here: Amazon UK

  Reclining Nude in Chicago

  (Book 1, Encounter Series)

  Set to interview Matisse expert and curator Pierce Marten in a Chicago loft, freelance art writer Julia Van Rothfelder is mistaken for an artist’s life model.

  Finding herself reclining nude posing for a handsome casually dressed curator, nothing like what she had imagined, a well-groomed man in a business suit enters the artist loft.

  As Julia surveys the two men standing before her, she wonders…

  Who is the new man?

  Who is the man behind the canvas?

  And better question, why am I nude?

  ***BONUS MATERIAL***

  Taming the Curator

  This book contains sexually explicit material and is intended for adult readers only

  Reclining Nude in Chicago, (Book 1, Encounter Series)

  Available Now

  Click here: Amazon US

  Click here: Amazon UK

  Awakening to You Trilogy

  Complete Story

  Sofie James is a successful set designer, trying to break into the male dominated production design realm and lacking any personal obligations she sees a clear path to success.

  Drake Blaxton is a senior partner in an architectural firm who has always been focused and grounded in his career while completely noncommittal in his personal life.

  A chance encounter at their favorite pond.

  A fateful storm that could change everything.

  What happens when Sofie and Drake’s worlds collide into each other, awakening a thundering passion that neither were ever open to having?

  This book contains sexually explicit material and is intended for adult readers only

  Awakening to You Trilogy: Complete Story

  Available Now

  Click here: Amazon US

  Click here: Amazon UK

  Acknowledgements

  To ma maman, thank you for all your support. I love you!

  A special thanks to my friends: Kim, Susan of Wicked Women Book Blog, Michele, Andrea, Amy, Nelle and Isabelle for supporting me even though I abandoned the book world, and for encouraging me to return to writing. I’m thrilled to have new books to share with you and thank you all for sharing them with your friends and the book world.

  Jacquelyn, my editor and friend, thank you for reintroducing me to editing 101, and making me laugh.

  Paul at BB ebooks, thank you, thank you… I love that I have new books to throw your way, and I love how quickly you fix them perfectly.

  Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design, thank you for creating another lovely book cover.

  Jen of Just One More Page, thank you for organizing my Just A Number cover reveal and after release boost gifted to me by the one and only DJSuze AKA Susan Garwood.

  Mary of Love Between the Sheets, thank you for organizing the Just A Number book blitz.

  Thank you to all of you wonderful Book Bloggers that have made my books more visible, your support is truly, truly appreciated more than you could ever know.

  Most importantly, thank you to my faithful readers for loving my books!

  About the Author

  While daydreaming of her time spent sipping cafe creme in the cafes of Paris, Fifi Flowers, an internationally known artist turn author from the Los Angeles area of California, writes romance novels and paints fantasies with a Parisian flair.

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