Alpha Billionaire Series

MANDY

I rubbed my hands into my tired eyes and held onto the rail as I made my way downstairs. I had been sleeping in more and more and staying up later and later.

Thad a hard time finding my motivation. Grant had taken it with him when he left. It felt as if the only moments of joy I had were when he texted me. He called almost every night. We talked for hours in hushed tones so that my mother couldn't overhear us.

If she did bother to ask who I was talking to, I always told her it was Vivica. Half the time she didn't even ask, she just told m to tell Vivica hello. Of course, I called Vivica too, or she called me. Her conversation was centered around her new job at the museum. My conversation revolved around Grant. I missed him so utterly, I didn’t know how I was breathing.

I couldn't see a way out of the horror that was work. The more I crunched numbers the more I realized that selling the house had been the only option. I know Mom needed to get out of it, too many bad memories when she wanted good ones, but financially, that needed to happen.

Dad had taken out too many loans using the house and the business as collateral. Mom's treatments had cost so much. The] entire savings and retirement funds had been drained. I hated cancer.

There didn't seem to be a reason to be happy. My happiness was in Chicago, my duties were here at the lake. I didn't go into town, there was no reason. We had enough food that I put off going to the grocery store because I didn't have the wherewithal.

“I'm glad you're up, we have to talk”

Mom couldn't have dropped a bigger word bomb on me if she tried. “we have to talk the words sent fear stabbing through my body. My brain immediately went into overdrive about what was wrong.

She hadn't had any new scans or tests, but maybe the cancer had come back. Or worse, they had read her reports all wrong, and she really wasn't doing better. I had to remind myself that I had sat in that appointment with her, I heard the words come out of the doctor's mouth. He hadn't let her come home and ignore treatments. He had released her for three months, she was in good shape, there were no signs of disease in her body. She just needed to regain her strength.

50 why did she need to talk? What was so wrong that she would sit in the kitchen waiting to ambush me with those words. My stomach cramped with fear. Or was that the baby?

I put my hand on my belly for a moment before remembering mom didn't need to know until I told Grant. I had to remembey to act like I wasn't pregnant. No hands on belly, no staring at my belly to see if it had started to round out and develop a baby bump. No throwing up at bad smells or gross sounds.

“Um, yeah sure." I pretended that I hadn't been knocked into next week with the terror of her words.

I pulled a bowl out of the cupboard, and a spoon from the utensil drawer. I went about making a bowl of cereal as if nothing mom could say could possibly be as bad as my imagination was freaking out over. I sat, and then realized I didn't have milk. Back at the table with my breakfast ready to be assembled, I finally said, “Shoot, what's up?”

I thought maybe I could take the blow of her words better if I had a mouthful of sugary cereal.

“I went into town yesterday,” she announced.

“I know, you went to the Society of the Library luncheon. You've been feeling so much better later. How was it? Was the chicken salad sandwich the same thing they've served for the past twenty years?”

She had been so tired when she came home that she had gone to bed. She hadn't come out of her room all afternoon and evening. I had taken her a cup of chicken noodle soup for dinner, to make sure she ate. But she wasn't up for talking, so she didn't give me the gossip that typically followed the annual luncheon. That's not what she needed to talk to me about, was it?

If all she had was gossip, she really needed to work on her conversation openers. I was still vibrating with residual panic. “You didn't overdo it, did you?" I asked.

“I might have. I'm still tired. I think I'll just sit outside with a book today. You'll have to go to the grocery store; we're getting low on a few things."

“Okay.” I could handle a trip to the grocery store. I could always buy a pint of ice cream to cheer myself up.

I sighed and shoved another spoonful of cereal into my mouth having survived her “we have to talk’ moment.

Erica Johnson was there.

I nodded. That wasn't a surprise or anything. Mrs. Johnson was on the board of almost every volunteer organization in town, She was even on the local Parent and Teacher Association board, even though her kids were long out of school. She was the super-volunteer event coordinator type with a finger in every pie and an opinion on everything.

“How's Mrs. Johnson?”

“She said she saw you at the Melon Festival,” Mom sneered. She was using a tone of voice that made me feel like she had caught me out doing something I wasn't supposed to.

“Yeah?” I replied. There was nothing wrong with going to the Melon Festival. I had offered to go with Mom, but she hadn't wanted to go, so I went with Grant. It hadn't been a big deal. Only now, I was feeling like maybe I had done something wrong “She said you were with a man.’

“I was. I told you I started seeing someone.”

“I thought you had started to see the McMillan boy."

“Craig?” I laughed. “Why on earth would you think I was seeing Craig?”

“You and Vivica haven't stopped talking about him since the Haufmann's party.”

I sighed. “We were talking about him because Vivica thought he was attractive until she tried to talk to him. She spent the next two weeks trying to figure out how anyone could be so dull and clueless.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“So, the man who introduced himself to Erica Johnson is really your boyfriend? Mandy, how could you?” Her tone was full of daggers.

“What have I done?” The earlier panic took hold and grew exponentially.

“Mandy, do you have any idea what that man has done to our family?”

“Mom, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t cuss at me, Amanda Jane Wilson.”

Iwas really confused. What had I done that mom was using my full name? I swallowed around a hard lump in my throat. Did she know I was pregnant? I thought I had been so careful, not mentioning it out loud, and only ever with Vivica.

“Mom,” I started slowly. “I honestly don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Erica Johnson said that Grant Carpenter said he's your boyfriend.”

I nodded. That's exactly what happened, I still didn’t see why Mom was so upset.

“You don't know who he is to you?"

“He's a businessman from Chicago. I met him at the Haufmann's. Why? Who do you think he is?"

My mouth went dry. I didn't want to know who my mom thought he was. She was going to say he was in the mafia, or something equally nefarious, and I didn’t want to know. I didn't want to care. He was Grant, he was the father of my baby. That's all I needed him to be.

“Grant Carpenter is no better than a thug. He's a loan shark.”

“You have to have him confused with someone else. Grant isn't in banking; he doesn't do that kind of thing." He couldn't. “He runs Agon Athletics, Mandy."

Dad had been complaining about Agon Athletics for a few years after I went to college. They wanted to merge with MiMa. When Dad wouldn't let that happen, they had attempted a hostile takeover, but that wasn't possible since MiMa Play was sti a privately held company, and our private investors were just that, private. Agon Athletics couldn't get a foothold into MiMa Play but not from lack of trying.

“Mandy, he holds the loan against MiMa Play."

“What?” If I hadn't already been sitting down, I would have fallen on my a*s. How could Grant be the one holding the chopping axe over my head?

“But Dad's records don't actually name who is holding that loan. His financials are a total mess. Oh my God, Grant's been toying with me this whole time, hasn't he?"

There were only a few months left on the terms of the loan. At the end of the term, if I didn't have the money to pay it all off MiMa Play went to the holder of the loan. It went to Grant. No, I didn't want to accept it. He had been supportive. He let me work. Had he been trying to distract me so I couldn't find a solution?

“Your father died trying to make sure that man couldn't get his hands on MiMa Play. In the name of your father, in the name of Michael, you can't let Agon Athletics and Grant Carpenter get a hold of MiMa Play. He will destroy everything your father built”

Iwas in shock, I was hurt. I wanted to lash out. “Well maybe if Michael hadn't gotten on his stupid motorcycle in the rain, then he would still be around to take care of everything! Dad didn’t tell me shit about what was going with the company. I'm having to figure this all out by myself”

“Don’t you want—"

“I never wanted any of this. This was all dad's and Michael's dreams. I wanted to be a history teacher” I cut Mom off.

“You changed your major after Michael.”

Died. Michael died and my parents never spoke of it. I went from having an older brother to never having a brother at all, bu always having to live up to his memory.

“I changed my major for you and Dad. I couldn't let the MiMa dream die just because Michael did.”

The look of anguish on my mother's face said it all. I was hurting her with my anger toward Michael, toward the situation Dac had put me in.

“You can't ever see that man again,’ she said.

“Not a problem,” I replied. “He's already left.”

I had thought that I had a real future with Grant, now all I had with him was a loan that I would sell my plasma to pay off.