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Copyright © 2015 by emma nichols
1st Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Image Copyright Markomarcello: Man gentleman in black suit and tie
Used under license from DollarPhotoClub.com
Cover and Formatting by:
Love Kissed Books | http://lovekissedbooks.com

Chapter One

“What are you going to do?” Amy gazed at her sympathetically one winter afternoon from the comfort of the secondhand recently acquired sofa. “You know you’re welcome to stay with me.”

Shaking her head, Hannah frowns.  “And
you know
there’s nowhere near enough room in your place.  Getting on my feet will take some time.  We all know what happened with the last person I lived with.  I can’t lose you too.”

“Please, like you’d ever lose me.”  As she leaned back, Amy had another suggestion.  “What about an extended stay?”

“That’s not really feasible.  The ones I found were in terrible areas and still more expensive than I can afford.”  She looked down at her hands and picked at her cuticle.

“What’s left?”  Amy sounded frustrated now.

Hannah shrugged and masked the pain with humor. “Maybe I’ll search for a sugar daddy.  Lord knows there are enough rich lonely men in this town.” Her mouth curved to form a dull smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Amy fell into their usual rhythm. “Not a bad idea,” she remarked, “but wherever do you expect to find this prince charming?” She playfully tilted her head while her face took on a pensive look.

“Well…” Hannah’s eyes began to twinkle as she curled her legs under her in the threadbare Queen Anne chair. “I thought I might advertise for him.” She giggled then, a sound that shaved ten years off her age.

Staring at her a moment, Amy finally broke the silence and her tone grew more serious. “You seem to have given this some thought.”

She nodded.  “Actually, I’ve had plenty of time for thinking as of late.  So, give me your honest opinion.”  She reached for the one subject spiral notebook she was rarely without and flipped toward the back.  She placed a flattened palm against her chest and cleared her throat for effect.  “DWF, mother of two seeks well to do M, race unimportant, for live-in relationship due to sudden turn of finances (deadbeat ex) and underemployment.  Skills include entertaining, cooking, cleaning, witty intellectual conversations, and other desirable qualities.”  With her reading completed, she turned to Amy for a reaction.

Her friend studied her for a moment with wide eyes.  “Well, Hannah, honey…”  Her mouth gaped open as she tried to formulate the words she needed to express her sentiments.  “It was…thorough?”

“And honest,” Hannah said nodding proudly.

“You know,” she said slowly, “there’s such a thing as being too honest.”

Hannah studied what she had written with a furrowed brow, the pencil eraser tapping against her small full lips.  

Amy continued.  “Aside from the fact you always sell yourself short, I also noticed you didn’t flaunt any of your assets.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” she said quietly.  “I want people who don’t care about that.”

“I mean the rack alone…” She stretched out her open palms before her and gestured.  “Come on.” 

“Too big,” she said sadly.  “Brett always said that more than a handful was a waste.”

“Brett is a moron.  And isn’t he dating some surgically enhanced stripper now?”  She glared defiantly.  “You’re so pretty, Hannah.  I hate you can’t see that.”  Hannah’s mouth opened to dispute her claim.  Amy threw up her hands, a combination of surrender and dismay.   “Fine.  Just trust me when I say someone will more than appreciate what you have to offer.”

“Yes, but let’s not forget my baggage.”  She glanced out the window to watch her kids frolic in the meager two inches of snow which had arrived overnight and effectively shut down the entire city of Charlotte.

“Any man would be lucky to raise your kids and have the privilege to love and be loved by you.”  Amy crossed her arms over her chest.

Ignoring her, Hannah stood and walked into the kitchen.  Moments later peeking around the corner from the other room, Hannah glanced at Amy.  “Want hot chocolate?”

“Is it from the Cocoa-latte machine?”  

“Isn’t it always?”  Hannah smiled as Amy followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the card table covered with a simple red-checkered vinyl tablecloth.  She explored the cabinets as the kids stripped down in the utility room, searching for something to accompany the cocoa.  Within minutes, she had arranged some frosted graham crackers on a plate and offered Amy the opportunity to lick the spatula she had used to spread the fudge frosting.

With the girls present, Amy wouldn’t further broach the subject.  Once the twins left the table, no doubt the conversation would resume.  Less than twenty minutes later, after the kids had effectively emptied the plate of their allotted snack and slurped the last drop of cocoa from their mugs, they hastily exited the room.  As Hannah expected, Amy arched an eyebrow at her friend as the kids rushed to the bedroom to pull out a board game.

“What?”  Hannah asked with exasperation.  “I know you’ve been aching to say something.  Just spit it out!”

Amy deliberately folded her hands, and stared at her a few moments longer.  “So,” she said allowing a dramatic pause.  “How are you going to go about screening these men?  Don’t you worry about bringing the girls into some strange man’s house?”

She shrugged.  “I haven’t entirely thought this through.”  Hannah leaned as far back as she dared on her folding chair and swirled her drink to prevent the chocolate from settling.  “Of course, I’m worried.  I’m also broke and desperate.  First you’re assuming anyone would answer.”  She took a few sips.  “What’s to say anyone will?”  Hannah gazed at Amy seriously.  “And then, what kind of man would answer an ad like that?”  She shivered, suddenly wondering if she could go through with her crazy idea after all.

***

At eleven o’clock the next morning, Gavin Meyers glared at his wife across the mediation table.  “Let me get this straight,” he began in a low threatening voice.  “You cheat on me with my own sister, I catch you in the act, and you expect alimony?”

Anyone else would have been cowering, but not India.  They had met at Yale where after growing up in an affluent home in a wealthy country club community and years of private schools, he found her bohemian ways enthralling.  As he graduated with his MBA, the final step to complete his grooming to take over the family business, he began to imagine his life with the cookie cutter, pearl wearing, demure, socialite stay-at-home wife who would then transition rather easily into stay-at-home soccer mom, and a knot had formed in his gut.  He wanted something different, wanted to stand out from the crowd.  He wanted a wife who would keep their relationship spicy, liven up his life.

Technically, he got what he wanted.  India wasn’t an easy conquest.  She didn’t want to be married, not just to him, but also to anyone.  She didn’t want to be tied down.  She did, in fact, try to run away the night before the wedding to join an artists’ commune in New Mexico.  At the time it had seemed fortunate the buses had stopped running in Hartford for the night and her father intercepted her.  He shook his head at the memory.  Maybe it would have been better to suffer that humiliation rather than the one he currently endured.

His little sister, Elizabeth, whom everyone had called Bitty since birth, had always been the black sheep of the family.  Now, however, she had transitioned into full-blown outcast.  She had done the unthinkable.  Her first faux pas was participating in the act which resulted in the breakup of her brother’s marriage, but… and this part was even more unforgivable as the word was whispered only behind closed doors and after glancing conspicuously around to see who might be eavesdropping… she was a lesbian.  
A lesbian!

No, it wasn’t losing India that had Gavin so outraged.  It was losing half of his possessions, half of his wealth, and all of his pride.  “Well?”  He demanded an answer to his question.

“This isn’t about money,” she said quietly, her enormous blue eyes completely devoid of all emotion.  “It’s about what’s fair.”

He felt the heat rise in his face and he worked to control the rage building within him.  “Fair?  Please.  Honestly, India, the more you speak, the more I know it’s about the money.”  He stared at her for a moment.  “So, what?  You want to be able to fund your own little starving artists’ colony?  You want to be able to sculpt for sheer pleasure and never worry about a job again?  Is that it?  You were unfaithful, you broke our vows, I kicked you and my scheming little sister out, and now you think you deserve money?”  He looked as though if he could reach across the table, throttle her and somehow get away with it despite a room full of witnesses, he would do it.

After taking a few deep breaths to manage his anger, he looked around the conference table.  His lawyer, Ms. Pendergast, was sitting to his right, urging him to calm down by means of a severe look.  He had hired a woman to make him appear more sympathetic, which would be better than how he currently felt…pathetic and completely emasculated.  Frowning, he laid his hands on the table. “I believe we are at an impasse.  I refuse to give in to the incredibly high demands this woman is making of me.  I refuse to accept she can have an affair, which ended our marriage, and expect me to give her money.  We both graduated from Yale.  Let her get a job for a change.”  He saw India redden and look away.  “I realize work is a foreign concept to you, my dear, but I insist.  I told you to take your car, your possessions.  I even offered you our cottage on the Outer Banks.  All of this I am willing to give you, but you want more?  Oh, and not just more, but you want $20,000 a month until you remarry?”  He expelled a humorless laugh.

“I know how you feel about marriage.  Take my offer and run, because I refuse to fund the rest of your life.”  He stood and shook hands with everyone present, save his wife.  To her he simply offered a suggestion.  “Think about it.”

After having said everything he wanted, he strode from the room and hit the button for the elevator.  Once on the ground floor, he exited the building and walked up Tryon until he reached Rock Bottom.  The restaurant seemed rather appropriate for his situation.  Certainly Gavin had hit rock bottom by now, although for the past few months he had felt his life sinking lower and lower.  While reaching for the door he realized he hardly ever ate there anymore, but it had been one of his favorite places to catch a lunch with his friends when they came home on college breaks.  And even more importantly, in the four years he and India had been married, he had never taken her there.  He hadn’t even finished his appetizer before his phone vibrated.  It was his lawyer.  A court date had been set.  His fate was now in the hands of a judge.

***

Hannah glanced at the clock.  It was already eleven thirty.  Brett was closing in on two hours late.  This week she had smartened up.  Instead of getting the girls ready bright and early, luring them away from their Saturday morning cartoons to prepare for their father’s arrival which would inevitably never come, she had decided to behave as though it were some wonderful surprise if their father actually showed up this week.  Ever since he had been making time with…Desire?  No, that was her stage name.  Well, anyway, he had some difficulty remembering the visitation schedule, or maybe it was getting away from the stripper he had difficulty with.

No doubt he had gone to the club she performed at after his last table had left the night before and ended up taking Krystal home. (Ah ha! That was her name.)  Then he probably had wild and crazy sex until five in the morning.  Oh well.  She had some pretty amazing sex this morning herself.  She grinned.  Thank god he left her the massaging hand held showerhead.

She still struggled with how it all ended.  How does someone cheat, leave behind a wife and kids, take everything and then refuse to help out financially?   Six months ago he had sent her to visit her family in Wilmington over Labor Day weekend.  She should have suspected something.  In the past they had always gone to Myrtle Beach for the holiday.  He said he would be working and she might as well have fun.  So, she did, or she attempted to, rather.  Every time she tried to call and speak to him, the voicemail picked up.  Something in her began to question whether everything was all right, and so she left a day early to drive back to Charlotte.

The apartment was dark when she arrived, which was odd since he always forgot and left one or two lights on.  When she opened the door, she discovered those lights probably were left on, somewhere, but as they were no longer in the apartment, she would no longer be responsible for turning them off.  In fact, nothing remained in the apartment.  Well, he had left the girls their beds.  There was the stack of bills he hadn’t paid before bolting, and an empty bank account they had shared.

Through it all, she refused to let the girls see how scared she was.  She immediately called her family and Amy.  Amy rushed right over with a hastily prepared care package full of everything a girl needs to cope in a situation like this, hence the Cocoa Latte machine.  Her parents wired her what little money they could afford to.  She had gone to a jewelry store on her lunch break to sell her wedding set.  She only received about half of what they’d paid for it.  Thus with a few thousand dollars, two kids and a rent that ate up over half her paycheck, she started a new life.

Thankfully, she had never been materialistic.  She didn’t miss the television, turning instead to library books and games.  It was amazing how many hours of fun could be had with a two-dollar deck of cards.  Even the kids didn’t notice when it took her several months to replace the television, or that the one she had purchased at the pawnshop was significantly smaller and quite possibly “hot.”  It was a concession she had to make.  Thankfully, her vehicle was an SUV.  There were times when she would be driving somewhere and found something on the side of the road they could use.  This was where the Queen Anne chair had been discovered, and the television stand.  Soon she found if she just picked up anything that fit and drove to the flea markets on the weekends, she could eke out a living.  It was unbelievable what people would throw out.  She’d found exercise equipment, strollers, changing tables, high chairs, couches, television trays, baskets, and everything imaginable.  Hannah would take a little time to clean these items up and earn an extra hundred bucks or so each weekend.  She even had the girls helping her after telling them they were treasure hunting.  She had learned long ago she could survive anything with the proper attitude.