by A. E. Murphy
“Is there a problem with the amount Sylvia?” I say, my teeth clenched. “I was under the impression the charities needed money. Besides, I haven’t donated in over a year so I splurged this month.”
“I understand you are a millionaire but you should watch what you spend Maya.” Sylvia chastises, a frown wrinkling up her face. “Especially when my son isn’t aware. What will you do if you go bankrupt?”
“I agree,” James sighs and smiles apologetically at me. “The business is doing great but the spending needs to stop.”
“Contrary to your beliefs,” I clear my throat and glare at my husband and his mother. “Neither of you know of half what I get in a month. You just assume to know because your son watches the books on his part of the business, which is the American part and only the pharmaceutical side. I’ve been building up this company since I was seventeen and my father gave me my first million. In eight months I turned that million into twelve successful stores in France. In the next year I branched to England, including three factories for new drugs that help reduce the effects of Dementia. By twenty I earned my first half a billion.” I ignore both of their shocked faces and continue, “On top of my dad’s money and the companies’ stocks and shares I am now worth a net worth of just under four billion. Even if the company does go south. Which it won’t. But if I do have to sell and liquidate I will still be a billionaire. So excuse me if I want to spend my hard earned cash on charities.”
“How do you run it all?” James’ face is a picture.
I shrug, “I have a lot of well-trained guys in my place. The company that is mine is in my father’s name but I assure you it is mine. He only left me his company and money. His is less than mine. Only twenty eight percent I believe.”
“I didn’t know,” James gasps and grips my hand. “Your father told me you were successful but I didn’t realize it was you that created the international side of things.”
I shrug and wave the waiter over, “I agree he needs a raise. Although I told him my money is his when we got married.”
“I thought you’d be getting the same amount as me, your father split his profits with me,” James scoffs in disbelief.
I notice how Sylvia is looking at me blankly. Her attempts at making me look bad completely thwarted. “I apologize Maya, it seems I have misjudged you. And your intelligence.”
“Apology not necessary,” I grunt and pick up the menu, it bloody was necessary. “James will have the T-bone steak, medium rare, side of potatoes in garlic dressing. Salad, dressing on the side. I’ll have the rib eye but I’d like my steak medium well. No blood whatsoever.” The boy scribbles on his notepad as mummy dearest orders. “Thanks.”
Sylvia smiles at me and glances at James who looks gob smacked. “Shut your mouth boy. You’ll catch a fly.”
“Yes,” I sigh knowing his question. “I have actually paid attention over the years.”
“I know nothing about you,” he grumbles and rubs his hands over his face. “Absolutely nothing.”
“So Sylvia,” I say, effectively interrupting the James depression. “When is the next lunch?”
She blinks and taps her chin in thought. “It’s on Monday. Will you be there or are you planning on getting sick.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m washing my hair on Monday,” I joke. She rolls her eyes. “I’ll be there. Message me the details. I promise to join this one. Nothing I like more than listening to Charlene Petal blabbing on and on about how her daughter married a black man.”
Sylvia laughs, a real full on laugh, I realize it’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh, “They’re vultures, the lot of them but it’s a good way to get contacts in our world.”
“I’m glad you two can go to lunch,” James smiles appreciatively at me. “It’s nice to see you both making an effort to get on.”
“Yes, when can I expect grandchildren,” Sylvia grins excitedly whilst rubbing her hands together. It’s my turn to splutter on my drink. “I’m not getting any younger.”
“Maya has agreed we will start trying in five years,” James sighs solemnly and I’m wondering why the hell the vacancy of my womb is being discussed at the dinner table. Wait a minute, did he just…
Sylvia frowns. I quickly chirp, “Ten years, we agreed ten.”
“You want ten, I want right now, five years is a good compromise,” James says and kisses my knuckles.
I raise my brows in defiance, “Umm… no. I can barely look after myself. I’m reckless, heartless, cold and uncaring. I’m shallow and a bit of a bitch. Kids are not my thing. Kids need a loving mother who will give them her entire world. I know for a fact I’m not that person.”
“Nonsense,” Sylvia says with a sympathetic glint in her grey eyes. “You’ll be a wonderful mother. You put yourself down too much.”
I’m shocked by her compliment. “That’s not true. You know better than anyone how irresponsible I am. It’s a shock your son hasn’t filed for divorce yet.”
“You really think that?” James sad eyes meet mine. I shrug and reply, “Yes. Because it’s the truth. Me and kids, not a good idea right now. I’m messed up, grieving and selfish. Ten years minimum. Maybe when I’m thirty I’ll have a better handle on life.”
“I never realized how insecure you are, you always seem pretty sure of yourself,” Sylvia says and pats my hand. “What’s worse is I think you genuinely believe so little of yourself.”
What the hell is going on? Are they staging some kind of intervention? And I am not insecure. Just realistic. “Baby, you’re a wonderful person. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, you cry every time you watch those adverts on dying children.”
I wave them off, suddenly feeling embarrassed and a little awkward. “We’ll agree to disagree. I told you I’d try and be better and I am trying. I promise. But don’t try and fill my head with nonsense, I’m a failure as a person and we all know it’s true. How many people congratulated you on our engagement?”
James’ lips pinch together, “They don’t know you…”
“You my dear,” Sylvia smirks. “Are one of a kind. You don’t wrap anything in a pretty ribbon you deal with things as they are. Of course you can be rather disrespectful but you say what’s on your mind. You are marmite, you’re either loved or hated. And the people that do know you love you fiercely. That should tell you something.”
“Ok, I’ll take your word for it but still, no babies,” I say with a small smile, she just used my marmite comment that I use to describe Marie. “Not yet. I’m twenty three, I may be married but until I get my act together I’ll just be another young mother in society’s eyes.”
They both nod and say nothing else on the matter. Food arrives shortly after and conversation flows easily. I decide not to dwell on our conversation earlier about babies and my personality and what not. It is officially locked away in my brain box and won’t be opened until my run the next morning.
“Please, don’t forget Monday. I’d love for you to join me. I know the others can be sharks but it will be nice having someone who agrees with some of my opinions,” Sylvia says and I’m shocked to see she’s genuine. Like I said, I’m selfish. All I care about is whether I wanted to go, not whether my mother in law actually wants me there.
Hey, save it for the run.
Fair point. Forgot.
Now lock it up.
But there’s so many things I…
Lock it!
I sigh inwardly at my ridiculous brain arguments and hug the silver haired woman with a promise I will make it on Monday and I shall. This is another effort I shall add to my list, the effort of bonding with my in-law.
“You look deep in thought baby,” James says softly as we sit in the back of the limo.
I don’t know why but ever since I was little, when I’ve gotten in a limo I’ve always pretended it was a spaceship. The memory is fuzzy but I think it’s something my dad used to do. He used to make blast off noises and such when he took me places. The thought makes my
lip tremble. My dad was the greatest, he always made me feel so special. He accepted my attitude, never moaned at me. Never shouted, just voiced his disappointment when I did something outrageous and occasionally grounded me.
When I was a child as soon as he finished work he’d play with me, even though I had a nanny he always made time for me. Always.
“Hey,” James says and touches my thigh. His green eyes glowing with concern. “Are you ok?”
I nod and realize I’m clamming up again. So I talk. “I miss my dad. Seeing you and your mom, so at ease. It just made me remember a few things.”
“Is that why you were making noises again?” he smirks and pulls me into his warm chest.
Face palm. “Why do I always do shit out loud without realizing. Is there some kind of medical condition for that?”
“It’s called being crazy,” he laughs and kisses my forehead. “So, tell me what’s on your mind.”
I cringe, “come on James. You know I hate talking about my feelings.”
“Just try.”
“I don’t even know where to start. I miss him, I miss him so god damn much.” My voice is barely a whisper but James hears me. He doesn’t say anything he just holds me. “I guess with everything that’s going on… Notice how everything I say starts with I this, I that. Being married to you has really opened my eyes to what a selfish, self-centered, shallow bitch I am.” I laugh once and sniff. “Nothing I’ve ever accomplished has ever amounted to anything because I’m such a bitch. No one even paid attention. Even you and your mom thought it was my father that tripled the business when it wasn’t, it was me. And him obviously but I was the one that took that chance, I was the one that gambled. My father believed in me. He’s the only person that ever has.”
“I believe in you.”
“You shouldn’t, I’m a shit person.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Why? It’s true. Look at all the shit I’ve done. The only reason the paparazzi ever follow me is because I’m so damn quirky and stupid.”
“That’s not true. Christ Maya, why do you think I’m head over heels in love with you? You have a light about you. You glow. When you walk in a room everyone notices, the power and grace that emanates from you is scary as hell and enticing all the same. It’s like you have your own gravitational pull. The stuck up bastards stay away because you’re intimidating and they don’t know how to handle you. The let loose people go towards you because you are sweet, funny, honest, caring. You have a heart of gold hidden under a steel barrier.”
“You think Paul will agree with that?” I mumble and feel him tense beneath me. It’s the first time we’ve actually brought the situation with Paul up.
James sighs and relaxes a little, “Do you love him?”
I look up at him through my lashes and slide onto his lap. My legs straddle him as my hands cup his face. “I can honestly promise you I do not love Paul. Yes, there will always be a connection. A deep sort of bond between us. He did take my virginity after all.”
“If you’d known how he felt sooner would you have still married me?”
“Why do you ask ridiculous questions? I don’t know James. It’s in the past now, I can’t go back and find out. I can say yes to make you feel better. Or no to make Paul feel better. This is the reality now, we’re married. I hurt a very good friend. I suck. The end.” I say and kiss his lips softly. “But if it’s any consolation, I’m glad I married you because I do think I love you.”
“You think?” he scoffs, shifting in his seat. “That’s a big difference to actually loving me.”
I wince and speak my words carefully, “Sometimes I want to ring your neck and kick your ass. Sometimes I look at you and can’t believe how lucky I am that a man like you puts up with me. Then I think how I’d rather kill you than spend another moment with you. Then I look at you and laugh at something you’ve done and all the bad seems worth it. When I think you might leave me for some stupid shit I’ve done my lungs constrict, my stomach aches. I can’t even imagine. Yet other times all I can think of is signing those damn divorce papers.” I giggle and kiss his lips again. “One thing I’m certain of though is before you I used to fantasize about different men all the time. I had three boys on the go at once. Paul, Frankie and Kaden. Now, I can’t imagine being with anyone else, the thought makes me ill. So if that’s love, then yes I love you.”
“What a speech,” he chuckles as I exhale slowly. “And yes that’s love. To a certain extent.”
I slap his arm and slide off him as the car pulls up outside our building. “So, find when you have time off, we’ll go house hunting.”
“House?”
“Apartment,” I blurt to correct myself. “Not house, apartment. I meant apartment.” I grip his hand as I climb out of the car. “Damn you look hot. I can’t wait to fuck you in our apartment and then start planning to look for a new apartment. Notice the extra emphasis on the word apartment.”
“You said house, I’m going with that,” he winks playfully at me. “Definitely said house.”
“You are an ass. A baby loving, house wanting, stability hogging, female male ass!”
“I have no idea what you just said.”
Eye roll, “You’re an ass. Plain and simple.”
“It’s a good thing you love my ass.”
Sigh.
He pinches my backside, I squeal and giggle before taking off for the elevator.
“Hey baby, what are you doing here?” James smiles as I pad into his office carrying my laptop and other essentials. I plant them on his desk and squish in beside him. One of the builders follows with my spinney chair. Can’t sit at my laptop without a spinney chair. “Umm…”
I open my laptop and plug it in before turning to my perplexed husband, “Too noisy upstairs. I’m borrowing your space. Carlos says you don’t have any visitors planned for the day and I need quiet. Our clients can’t hear me over the noise up there.”
“That’s fine with me,” he grins and kisses my cheek. We work side by side until home time.
My stomach burns, I hope I’m not coming down with something. Probably all of the dust upstairs.
“Hey,” James says as we enter our apartment. “Are you ok?” I nod, not trusting my mouth to projectile vomit on opening it. “You sure?”
“Ill,” I say and curl up on the couch clutching my stomach. Shit that hurts. “Hungry. Sick.”
“Babe,” he says softly and kisses my forehead. “You have a temperature.”
I wave him off, “I’m fine. I think it’s just bad period pains. This stupid implant, I haven’t had a period in over a year and it’ll probably be bloody painful when I do.” I crack a smile. “Get it, bloody painful. Coz of the bleeding.”
He rolls his eyes and walks away from me. Returning minutes later with chicken soup and a glass of water. I drink the water but dash to the toilet after a few spoonfuls of soup. My head is over the basin as I retch up the contents of my stomach. “Babe,” James says softly as he holds my hair back. “Maybe it’s something you’ve eaten.”
I shake my head. Definitely not food poisoning, I’ve had that twice before due to my old roommates crappy cooking and it was nothing like this. My lower stomach hurts, it’s throbbing and the nausea I feel is awful. I know I’ll be ok in the morning so I get James to take me to bed with a bucket.
The poor man stays with me, he doesn’t leave my side the entire night. Only to wash the puke bucket out. Now that is love.
As suspected I feel much better the next day. My stomach still aches but the nausea isn’t as bad. I can actually eat and enjoy two slices of toast before heading to work. Tomorrow we are speaking to an estate agent to find us the perfect apartment. James is grumbling because I won’t stay in bed and let him look after me but there’s too much to do. The office is half done and I need to go in to check on things. Keep the builders on their toes.
Margie has a coffee waiting for me but it brings on a wave of sickness. Even she notices how sick
I look. Stupid implant. That must be it. I got sick last time I had my first period after a long length of time.
My skin does have a yellowy tinge to it. Is yellowy a word? Must be, I just thought it. So therefore it is a word. Like flabbergasted. Hell of a word, still not sure whether it’s real. Must check dictionary later.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“This is perfect,” James says as we walk through a huge penthouse apartment. It has four bedrooms, a huge kitchen and dining room. The living room overlooks the city and river. It’s perfect, absolutely perfect. It’s also the first place we’ve seen. How lucky is that?
The décor is modern, and classy. All it needs is furniture. Another job for my wonderful interior decorator.
“I can’t afford this,” James hisses as I announce the fact we’ll take it.
I roll my eyes, “Baby. Please. I want this. I promise you can spend all of your hard earned wages on the interior if you allow me to buy the actual place.”
“That seems like a brilliant compromise,” the kind woman smiles at us. Clipboard in arms. James shots her a glare that makes her cower. “This is a sought out location, you are first to see it and I guarantee it will be gone if you don’t buy it before the next lot.”
I put on my puppy dog eyes and pout my lower lip, “What’s mine is yours baby. Please. Please. Please. Your mom will love it to!”
He sighs and nods, “Fine. We’ll take it.”
I scream and throw my arms around his neck. Ignoring the throbbing in my stomach as my body stretches. “Thank you!”
“Let’s get this paperwork sorted.” The woman grins and we get on with the boring details.
“Hungry?” James asks as we walk down the street. I need to sit. Man my stomach aches. I shake my head and follow him into Starbucks. “You ok? I really think we should go to a doctor.”