Arranged love

Four years ago

“What can we do for you, Nick?” I ask as he enters the conference room. He had called up Bones an hour ago and said he needed to speak to us immediately.

I don’t have a problem with the man, but his daughter, on the other hand …

“I need a favor,” he announces, straightening his tie nervously.

“What is it?” Bones asks, standing over by the floor-to-ceiling windows. The black curtains pulled tight to block out the sun. Bones prefers darkness in every aspect of his life.

“I need a million dollars,” he announces.

The room falls silent. My eyes go to Bones, and he’s running his hand down his freshly shaven face. Grave pops a bubble with his gum, and Cross is flipping his Zippo.

“Done.” Bones nods. “I’ll have it for you in three hours.”

Mr. York’s green eyes widen for a brief second, and then he makes sure to look at each of us when he speaks. “Don’t you want to know why?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“No,” I answer.

“The why doesn’t matter to us. What is important is that you pay it back,” Bones explains.

Nick nods. “Of course. I …” He clears his throat. “Just tell me when.” He decides against what he was about to say.

“Three months,” I say.

He stands from the chair and buttons up his twenty-thousand-dollar suit jacket. “I won’t even need that long.”

We never did find out why he wanted it or what he did in order to pay us back.

“It seems fishy,” I agree. “But at least something good is going to come from Nick’s death.”

“Which is?” Cross asks.

I smile, looking over at him. “I made a phone call and was informed that George is back in town for his business partner’s funeral.”This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

“Meaning?” Grave asks, throwing back more of his energy drink.

“Meaning, we’re going to collect our money,” I answer as Bones glares at him.

EMILEE

I haven’t slept in days. As soon as George called me, I threw some of my tubs that were packed with my clothes into my car and headed straight for Las Vegas. A twenty-four-hour drive took me thirty-five. I drove as fast as I could. I never stayed at a hotel, but I did pull over for a few hours of sleep here and there. I survived on energy drinks and fast food. They were cremating my father per his wishes, and it gave me some time to get back home. I wanted to fly to get here faster, but I needed my car here. I knew once I arrived, I wouldn’t be going back for a while. If ever.

Slamming my car into park, I enter my father’s house and run up the winding staircase, two at a time. Once I reach the second floor, I run down the hall to the master suite, then I shove the door open without even knocking. My mother lies in the king-size bed with her head resting on the upholstered white headboard and the red silk sheets pulled up to her neck. Her nurse stands to her right, helping her sip from a Styrofoam cup.

“When the hell were you going to tell me that you got a divorce?” I snap, trying to catch my breath.

She doesn’t even seem surprised that I know. I think she’s too tired at this point. Or she just doesn’t care. I’m not sure which one I’d rather it be.

“Emilee …” She softly says my name.

“Don’t do that.” I shake my head. “Don’t talk to me like I’m five, Mother. You got a divorce.” I growl. “A divorce? Why …? What?” I reach up and start yanking on the bobby pins and ponytail holder that kept the bun in place. “Fuck!” I hiss, scratching my head roughly.

“Will you give us a second?” she asks her nurse in a soft voice.

I begin to pace the large room. My eyes scan over the white carpet. My mother has always been a clean freak, but to be honest, she always paid someone to do it for her. My father gave her the ability to hire help, to allow her to be a stay-at-home mother who never had to worry how the mortgage was going to be paid or where her next meal would come from. I think she took that for granted.

Once she exits, my mother begins. “It’s complicated-”

“No. It’s not,” I interrupt her. “You. Got. A. Divorce. Who wanted it? You or Daddy?” My chest is heaving with every wild breath I take. The news of their divorce is hitting me hard. I understand that not every marriage works out. I’m not stupid. I know how love works. People change over the years and grow apart. It’s the fact that she never told me. I talked to her all the time. She had thousands of chances to come clean, and she chose not to.

She lets out a long sigh and pats the large space next to her. I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to move. I love my mother, but I’m not going to give her a pass because of her condition. She’s been lying to me. Daddy had been lying to me. What else don’t I know?

“Who?” I demand.

“It was mutual.”

“Bullshit!” I snap.

“Emilee …”

I throw my hands up. “Fuck this.” And turn to leave. As my hand turns the doorknob, she speaks.

“I wanted it.”

I keep my back to her, and my chest tightens. I knew it. I didn’t want to believe it. My mother once told me “someone always loves the other more,” and my father loved her more.

“I wasn’t happy. And neither was he. Even though he wouldn’t admit it.” A silence fills the room. “It had been a long time coming.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask roughly. “Why didn’t Daddy tell me?”

“He wanted to.” She coughs. “But I talked him into waiting.”

I turn to face her, and tears fill my eyes. “So even after you left him and broke his heart, you still managed to control him?” I shake my head with disgust.

She closes her heavy eyes and runs her hands down over the sheets. “I was ashamed-”

“You should be!” I interrupt her, hearing the bedroom door open behind me. I turn to leave her but come to a stop when I see who has entered. “What in the fuck are you doing here?” I demand.

“Emilee.” My mother sighs. “Please quit using such harsh language.”

I watch with confusion and horror as George undoes his tie and walks past me. He goes over to the side of the bed and bends down to kiss my mother’s forehead.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” I shout.

“You didn’t tell her?” he asks my mother.

She waves off his concern. “She’s been through enough for one day.”

My eyes dart down to where he’s grabbed her hand. His dark eyes lock on mine as he bends down and kisses her fingers. My blood begins to boil just as I close my fists.

“What happened to you?” my mother asks him. “You smell like alcohol.”

He smirks at me. I want to go over there and knock the bitch out, but I can’t move. My legs are cemented to the floor. Is this what shock feels like?

“Just an accident.” He winks at me. “It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t be serious?” I manage to choke out. “Mom?” I look at her. The blood rushes in my ears, and I’m trying to catch my breath. “Is this …?”

“I’m tired, dear,” she says, closing her eyes.

“Mom …”

“She said she’s tired,” he growls at me. “Come back tomorrow. She needs her rest.” He pulls the covers up and tucks her in. “What can I get you, darling?” he asks her.

Come back tomorrow? I live here. This is my home too. “Mom.” I lick my lips. “You can’t be serious. He …”

“She’s had enough for one day,” he snaps. “Get out or I will …”

“What?” I shout. “Have me thrown out of my own house?”

“Please don’t fight,” my mother whispers. “Not now. It’s been a long day.”

“Long day?” I gasp at her words. “You didn’t even come to Dad’s memorial.” Since he was cremated, we just had a service at the funeral home. It was small and quick. It was all wrong. He deserved so much more than what George’s cheap ass paid for.

She closes her eyes as if pained by my statement. “I’m …”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. Then he rises to his feet and comes over to me. I want to turn, but my feet still won’t move. He comes up to me, grabs my upper arm, and yanks me out of the room, softly closing the door behind us.

“You son of a …”

He slaps a hand over my mouth and shoves my back into the wall. I glare up at him as he hovers over me. “I told you that I control everything. It would be in your best interest to shut your mouth.”

I shove him off, and he steps back. “I don’t know what you plan on doing, but it’s not going to happen,” I promise him.

He stares at me. I glare at him. It’s a standoff. But we both know that he has me at a disadvantage. I need to do something. My mother may have left my father, but he had something to do with it.

Without another word, I run down the stairs and out the front door and fall into the driver’s seat of my car and pull out my cell. I call the one person I want to see right now. The one person who will understand that I don’t want to discuss my feelings.

“Emilee? Hey, girl? Are you okay?” The words rush out.

It’s been so long since I’ve reached out to talk to her. My bottom lip begins to tremble, and I run a hand through my tangled hair. “No.”

“Where are you?”

I begin to rock back and forth. “I’m sitting in my car outside of my parents’ house.”

“You’re in Vegas?” she asks surprised.

I nod to myself. “Yeah. And I need a drink.” My eyes look at the clock on my dash, and it’s not even noon yet. I think the day I’ve had warrants some day drinking.

“Okay. Where do you want me to meet you at?”

That’s why I called her. Jasmine doesn’t ask very many questions, if any. She’s a ride or die chick. And that’s exactly what I need right now.