“Mama, do you understand what you’re expecting me to give up?”
She nods her head but her eyes don’t meet mine.
“How can you want me to be happy and be tied to this office every day?”
She lifts her head and I see the sadness in her eyes. “Sometimes we have to make our own happiness in our situation.”
“If I didn’t have a job where I could support myself I might agree. But Mama, you know I work the farm and make my own money. I have worked for what I have. Not a damn thing has been handed to me. I don’t want to be the rich kid living on an inheritance as much as I don’t want to be this suit-wearing prick.”
“Sully, it’s not a perfect situation, but it is what it is for now.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
She turns around and walks out of the office leaving me to wonder what I don’t know and what I’ve really gotten myself into.
This company is not for me. Not the corporate office side of things. Let me be the farmer supplying oats, corn, barley. Let me try hybrid crop after hybrid crop until I find the very best blend to make our spirits.
Because if I’m contained to this suit wearing office life … I might just find in saving the Marks family line of spirits, I lose my very soul along the way.
Ten
Elle
Looking at the clock once again, I try to shake off the disappointment. I don’t have time to wait around for him. This is the downfall to living a life with two jobs, I have enough of a break between them for a meal and shower. The window of spare time for Van has passed and now I need to get to the bar. I glance back at my phone practically willing it to ping with a message from him.
I have spent the last hour picking up the tiny box, beginning to make the call, only to never actually push the button to connect. I don’t want to be that chick, the clingy one. We haven’t had any serious conversations about our relationship, if one can call it that. Is it acceptable for me to be concerned that he said he would be home and hasn’t arrived? Will I seem desperate if I call to check on his welfare? Every single time I prepare to call I manage to talk myself out of it.
Hooch sits beside me with his head resting on my lap letting out the occasional dog snore as he comfortable snoozes away.
My phone dings and I practically jump up. Hooch lifts his head as I click the screen to read the text message.
Something came up, I’ll be home late. Know you gotta work, catch up when you get in.
Rather than overanalyze it, I reply with a thumbs up emoji. Standing, I move to the door and slide on my boots. It’s time to get to work. Hooch follows me and I scratch behind his ear one more time.
“Guess it wasn’t meant to be, buddy. You be a good dog,” I tell him feeling ridiculous because I’m so attached to a dog that I’ve known a matter of one single weekend. I’m attached to a man when neither of us have time for this.
Irrational thoughts.
Uncontrollable emotions.
Irresponsible actions.
Surely, there is some sort of mental health problem going on inside me. Find me a shrink and give me a diagnosis. Something to explain how I’ve gotten so wrapped up in a man I don’t even know. For a brief moment I contemplate looking around his house. Mentally, I chastise myself for not snooping sooner.
After he left Sunday morning, I slept until his return. We had dinner, chatted, watched a movie, had sex, and fell asleep. This morning, he left for work after offering to take me in, but my rental car was on the way. In fact, the little sedan was delivered just as Van was pulling out. With everything I needed to take care of and still get in to start my shift at Marks’ I didn’t take the time to look. This afternoon, I was too excited at the mere idea of a real date, I didn’t go through anything either. Now, I’ve run out of time.
Shaking off the many thoughts plaguing me, I grab my purse, my bag of belongings, and lock the door. Stepping out into the night, I make a decision. I won’t return. This simply isn’t meant to be and I need to get my life in order rather than remain distracted by the farmer.
Getting in the car, I head to the Run Down and notice my car has been towed. The man called and told me he would be getting it. He was a friend of Van’s and assured me he would fix it. He also agreed he wouldn’t let anyone else, meaning Van, pay my service bill. Well, hopefully the tow and repair won’t set me back too much. As I go to put my bag up, I notice a new text. Taking a quick look, I see it’s Melanie who leaves me an address and asks me to move in with her. Well, at least I have some place to go home to after my shift. Shooting her a quick reply, I tell her I’ll be there when I get off work and of course I’m happy to be her roommate.
Tucking my purse under the counter, I get to mixing drinks. At least something is falling into place. Even if this turns out to be two steps forward and then I get forced to take three steps back, I feel like I’m at least doing something.
Ellis is in his spot and old man Clinton is in his. I slide them each their usual and check in with the few other patrons. The time passes and I constantly fight the urge to check my phone over and over again.
“Elle, what’s got you down?” Clinton asks surprising me.
I shake my head. “Nothin’, just got some things on my mind.”
The old man gives me a knowing smirk, his wrinkled skin showing the test of time against his body.
“It about a man?”
I wipe down the bar in front of him. “Now, what makes you think it’s about a man?”
He takes a pull from his beer. “It about a woman?” He raises his eyebrow.
I laugh. “No, it’s not a woman.”
“Hey, you never know these days. I’m old, and sometimes dumb, but I ain’t ignorant. Also, since you didn’t come right out and say it wasn’t a man who has you lost in your head, but you clearly told me it ain’t a woman, that says it most certainly is a man.”
I find myself smiling because he’s right.
“See a lot in my time. Been coming in this place for years, long before you started slinging drinks. Watched you, Elle. Know something’s got you thinking hard tonight. Had a woman once. A good woman. Had ourselves a good life. Then I let pride and family and everything take me away from her. You’re lookin’ a bit lost tonight.” Each word comes out in a scratchy whisper. “The kind of lost that happens when you just feel something so right might be slippin’ away.”
“Nothin’ for you to worry about,” I tell him as a stranger in a suit approaches the bar and settles into the stool three down from Old Man Clinton. It’s almost eleven and time that we usual wind down for the night, not have new customers coming in.
“What can I get ya?” I ask giving my attention to the stranger. He has blonde hair that is short on the sides and spiked on top, but it looks like he’s run his fingers through it too many times so it’s kind of all over the place. His eyes are the color of whiskey with lashes that any woman in fashion would die for.
“Are you by chance Danyella Montford?” he asks and immediately I step back.
“Why do you ask?” I reply not giving him a direct answer.
“I need to find her. It’s critical.”
He studies me. I study him. We’re in a silent standoff, but somehow it doesn’t make me nervous, but rather curious. He looks down as he reaches into his coat pocket. Pulling out some papers his eyes lock to mine again.
“Danyella, my name is Roark Frazier. I don’t know how to begin to tell you this and we really don’t have the time.”
His face pales, his throat tightens as I watch his Adam’s apple move as he swallows.
“Just say what you gotta say, man.”
“I’m your brother.” He locks his eyes to mine as if to show me what he says is his truth. “We have a sister and she needs your bone marrow.”
I step back so much my ass hits the back of the bar. “What the shit kind of drugs are you taking? Who the hell are you? I don’t have a brother, I damn sure don’t have a sister who needs bone mar
row, and dude, you should know I don’t have a dime to spare.” I don’t have the mental capacity or emotional stability to take on what he’s trying to tell me right this minute. A brother, a sister … family? No freaking way.
He gives me a sad look but he doesn’t move to leave. “I know this is a surprise. Your mom, well, she’s our father’s mistress.”
The room spins. I feel like I could throw up.
“What are you talking about?”
He sits down on the stool as if he’s settling in for the night. “Maybe you should have a drink.” He reaches around to his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. Laying a twenty-dollar bill on the bar top, he pushes it to me. “On me, grab a drink. We need to talk, but I don’t have time to wait for tomorrow to come.”
Old man Clinton gets up from his perch, grabs his cane and moves around to behind the bar. He gives my hand a squeeze. “See you got a lot to process. Also know that you don’t know it, but darlin’ I still own the bar. I started the rumor so my employees would work and not think I was watchin’ ‘em. I stay put when I got female bar tenders working a shift with minimal security. Like tonight. Now, you got a storm brewin’ in your brown eyes. You work hard. Take a drink, a strong one, and sit down with this man to talk.”
I open my mouth to argue, but his wrinkled hand gives mine a squeeze. “Make an old man happy and talk to this guy. Family is all you got in this life. When you’re my age don’t just have a bar filled with stories and not a soul to share ‘em with.”
Instead of trying to find a comeback, I move and make myself a Jack and Coke. Feeling like I am safer behind the bar, I take a drink before I nod to the stranger in front of me to talk.
“Your mother, Courtney Montford, she had a long on again off again affair with our father. My mother she didn’t know her or you until our father passed away two months ago. Things are complicated and I promise to explain everything to you and my mother even agrees to answer any questions about your mom or dad she can. But what you need to know is we have a younger sister and you might be the match she needs. This is the life or death of an eight-year-old little girl.”
I don’t even know what to say.
“You have money, Danyella. There is a trust fund. Our attorney has been trying to find you. When Asli, our sister became sick, everything has been about finding her a donor. Once they had a firm address and job location for you, I decided to personally bring you the paperwork of everything you’re entitled to but also to tell you our sister needs you.”
Inheritance? This can’t be right. I toss back the rest of the drink without even stopping for a breath of air. I don’t even know what to think as he pushes the papers to me.
“Look Danyella, this is all yours whether you agree to help us or not. But, it would mean everything to my mother and me if you could just take the test to see if you’re a match.” I see his eyes darken. “I’ll even give you my portion of the company if you will save our sister. She’s so sweet. She’s everything good in our family after far too many years of darkness and ugly.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want your company.”
He stands looking defeated. “What about Asli?”
Tears fill my eyes thinking of a little blonde haired girl with our same whiskey colored eyes. “I’ll do whatever I can to help her. But I don’t want your money.”
A look of relief washes over him. “Thank you.”
“We need to talk but this late and at a bar is not the right place,” I explain looking over to Clinton who is apparently my boss.
“Take the night off, Elle. And tomorrow too. I’ll still pay ya.”
I’m the one with relief washing over my face now. I know this Roark guy said I have an inheritance, but depending on how much it is, I may only be paying off a debt not getting ahead. Plus, one thing this life has taught me: Don’t ever cash a check until the money is really in the bank. So I’m not looking ahead about this so called inheritance until it’s sitting free and clear in my bank account.
“Here’s my number,” Roark says scribbling on the papers. “Give me a call tomorrow morning.”
I shake my head. “I have a day job. I can call when I finish for the day then we can meet.”
“Okay, Danyella. Thank you for this.”
I shrug my shoulders. “No kid should ever suffer. And everyone calls me Elle.”
Eleven
Sullivan
I didn’t bother to go home. After my mother’s behavior, the not so subtle hints she laid, I couldn’t stop myself from going over every report I could find. When my eyes got too heavy, I moved to the couch in my office and crashed. Thankfully, Donovan had each of the executive offices outfitted with a full bathroom, including a shower.
I sent multiple text messages to Elle, but each one was unopened. She had to work at the bar last night. Since I stayed here, I asked Donovan to swing by my place to see if she stayed. I’m waiting to hear from him. If her rental car is there, he is supposed to keep driving because she will take care of Hooch for me. If her car isn’t there, then I need him to let my dog out and give him food. He has an automatic watering station built into my cabinets in the kitchen but he likes to eat.
What I found last night didn’t help me a single bit. The numbers have been off for years. It’s eating at me. Stepping into the shower, I know I have to ready for the day. This is the life of a businessman. After washing quickly, I step out, dry off, and change into a new suit. My phone rings as I finish adjusting my tie.
“Sullivan Marks,” I answer.
“Bro, your girl she bailed.”
“Fuck!” Immediately, I feel this pain, this loss deep in my chest. I can’t explain it.
“Plenty of fish in the sea, baby brother.”
His comment only pisses me off more. I disconnect the call. I can’t explain it. There is something about Elle.
She is strong.
She is beautiful.
She is fierce.
She is calm, but mighty.
She is a warrior.
And everything inside of my down to my very core screams she is mine.
My phone rings again, I ignore the call.
It rings again. I swipe the slider to answer. “Look, you persistent bastard the last twenty-four hours have me feeling like a caged animal. I do not have the patience for your games.”
“Well, hello, Sully,” Roark replies.
“Shit, man, I thought you were Donovan. What’s goin’ on?”
He gives a half chuckle. “I’m in your town unexpectedly and thought we could have lunch. Since I’m a persistent bastard, you can’t turn me down.”
“How’s Asli?” I ask surprised that Roark has left his little sister’s side.
“We have hope. It’s what brought me here. Look man meet me for brunch and I’ll fill ya in.”
I look at the office space. I need to get out of here. “Fuck it, give me an hour and I’ll clear my day. Meet you at O’Leary’s.”
“Thank fuck, I thought I was going to have to come to the office to drag you out.”
Roark and I attended college together. Much to my family’s dismay I went to North Carolina State University rather than stay in Kentucky. They have an agricultural department that is state of the art. Since running the family empire wasn’t on my list of things to do, I went after my own dream of farming. I didn’t want to be half-assed and flying by the seat of my pants so I spent four years with the Wolfpack studying my ass off. That’s where I met Roark Frazier.
We were dorm mates, then roommates in our off campus apartment. For the most part we tried to attend college like every other kid there instead of the young men with silver spoons in our mouths that we really were.
He understands the life of a billionaire son because he is one. His father was Roan Frazier, CEO of Frazier textiles. After Roan passed away a few months ago, everything has been on Roark’s shoulders. Given his sister’s health it’s a load for one man to carry alone. I am curious as to w
hat brings him from the mountains of North Carolina into Kentucky. Maybe he has found a match for his sister. I sure hope so.
Filled with the comfort that my best friend is here, I go to my desk and quickly work on getting my schedule cleared for the day. Miss Jacobs tries to buzz through to my office, I simply reject her request over and over again. Donovan knocks at my door; I don’t bother to open it. My focus is finding time to be with my kind of people.
I need the reset. I need the simple way Roark and I pick up like we have never been apart. I need the reminder I am not alone in this crazy world.
People say money can buy happiness. I get it. If I had to live pay check to pay check or cashing in change from my car, I would feel the stress and burden of not having money. Having money though, it carries a different burden. I never know if someone likes me for me or my family name. Roark understands this and we have been close for years.
After I send all the necessary emails, I head out of my office. Miss Jacobs promptly stands and begins to speak. I throw my hand up silencing her.
“I’m going out and won’t be back the rest of the day. Handle it,” I bark.
“Mr. Marks, you can’t,” she starts but I twist and glare.
“I can and I will.”
Donovan emerges from his office. “Sully,” he starts in the laid back way that is and always has been my brother.
“Save it. I have plenty of questions when I get back. But today, I have a pressing engagement.” I try to sound formal since we do have our secretary between us. My tone is clipped because honestly, I want to go chase down Elle but my dumbass didn’t even get her full name.
“You need to chill, baby brother.”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “All you do is chill. I have years worth of reports that have your approval but the fuckin’ numbers don’t add up Donovan. So since you want to do this right here, right now, Miss Jacobs, you’re fired. Pack your stuff and be gone by the time I return. You not only failed to turn in the requested reports, you also signed off on them and nothing adds up correctly. Your incompetence will not be tolerated.”
She is ...: I Ain’t Ya Mama Collab Page 7