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  Like my mother, Marianne thought.

  Marianne’s mother, Elaine Lawson, worked for Brunscorp for twenty years before taking a well-earned retirement. That is, until recently, when all her money mysteriously disappeared, and she was left with nothing.

  “Does he even bother to listen?” Marianne asked.

  She was aware that the CEO was a thirty-seven-year-old trust-fund baby who had inherited the company from his parents. Marianne had no love for Jay Parish. Yes, technically he was her employer, but after what had happened to her mother, their opinion of him was low, to say the least.

  “He did, at first,” Jeff said. “Then, after so many complaints, so many tragic stories, he finally asked me to handle them. There’s nothing he can do while the company is under investigation, you know.”

  Marianne didn’t buy that for a second. The man was one of the richest men in the country. He couldn’t do right by his former workers by supplying them with funding? Why couldn’t he just replace it with his own massive wealth? Clearly, the man was a greedy, selfish, good-for-nothing…

  “If it helps, he looks terrible these days,” Jeff offered, glancing down at her.

  “It does help a little, thanks,” Marianne said with a slight chuckle.

  Thinking of Jay Parish, though, she had no idea what the man actually looked like. She could imagine him worn-down and slumped over with the weight of the world. With everything she had to endure, it was the least he could do.

  Or was it?

  An idea flashed in Marianne’s mind, and before she lost her nerve, she glanced up at Jeff.

  “Hey, do you think I could have a short meeting with Mr. Parish tomorrow? Is he free at all?”

  Jeff cast a curious glance down at her and pulled his phone from his pocket, swiping it open and checking his calendar.

  “He doesn’t have anything scheduled over lunch. Would you like a few minutes then?”

  “I would. Thanks, Jeff. You’re a peach.”

  “Well, I’ll schedule it. There’s no guarantee he’ll actually follow through or tell you what you want to hear. It’s as I said…the man’s a wreck.”

  “Yeah, well. I’ll make him hear what I have to say,” Marianne said, squaring her shoulders.

  The door dinged as they reached the main lobby, and Jeff gestured for Marianne to exit first. She lifted her hand in a small wave as she headed out through one of the many glass doors lining the front of the building.

  “Have a good night,” she said.

  “You, too. See you tomorrow,” Jeff parroted.

  She found her run-down little sedan in her usual parking area a few blocks away and slid into the driver’s seat, hoping the thing would start. She turned the key a few times until the engine kicked to life, and she released a breath as she pulled out of her spot and onto the road.

  She considered what she would say to Jay Parish when she met with him the following day. He had everything, and because of him, her family had close to nothing. She would ask him for an advance payment, something to get them through the storm until he managed to solve the financial issue.

  She had to do something. She could barely afford gas, now supporting her mother and her daughter on a secretary’s salary. She turned onto her block and pulled up next to her apartment building. The scent of a hot meal floated on the breeze, and Marianne inhaled and closed her eyes as she locked the car up and headed up the two flights of stairs to her tiny two-bedroom apartment. The mail was piled on the floor outside the door, and Marianne bent and scooped it up, sifting through it as she stood outside her door.

  Another overdue bill.

  Marianne’s heart sank and her stomach felt like lead. She was sinking fast, and she had no idea how to fix it. She put on a brave face for her family, pretending that everything was fine, but if they knew how bad things really were…

  The loan. Tomorrow, she would make everything right again. She had to. She had no choice.

  Marianne neutralized her expression, tucked the mail into her work bag and pressed the door open. The welcoming scent of food from outside was even more pronounced as her mother stood over the stove, holding out a spoon for Zoe as the little girl stretched up and had a taste.

  “Yum! Grandma, that’s the best version yet!”

  Marianne’s mother grinned down at her little granddaughter, the creases in the older woman’s face growing more pronounced as she did. Marianne knew firsthand that many of those lines came from years of smiling, but recently, many more of them came from worry and stress.

  Marianne would be fixing that soon.

  “Hello!” she called.

  Zoe and Elaine glanced up, and Zoe’s face erupted in a smile as she sprinted at her mother. Marianne opened her arms and accepted the little torpedo, enveloping her in her arms and holding her tight. She kissed the top of her daughter’s head and stroked some hair from her face and she pulled away and knelt down to chat.

  “How was your day, little love?”

  “It was good. I got to play soccer, and I learned some new things and stuff.”

  “New things and stuff? Like what?”

  Zoe shrugged.

  “I dunno, like how there’s a country with tons of cool animals called Africa.”

  “There’s a continent called Africa,” Marianne corrected.

  “Oh, yeah. Continent. Grandma and I are cooking her special spaghetti sauce,” Zoe said, effectively changing the subject.

  “I could smell it from the street,” Marianne said, approaching the stove and breathing in the rich scent of tomato sauce, herbs, and spices. Elaine wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder in greeting.

  “How was your day, my love?” she asked.

  “Same as ever,” Marianne said simply.

  It wasn’t that she disliked her job. She was good at it, and there were certainly worse things she could be doing (and had done). When she’d found out she was pregnant with Zoe and her boyfriend had ran off as fast as he could, she’d known she would need something stable that could support them both.

  Somehow, she’d landed a job at Brunscorp, and she’d been there ever since. After seven years, though, it had gotten monotonous.

  “What about you?” Marianne asked.

  Elaine huffed as she stirred the sauce in the pot. A light steam came up from the mixture, indicating that it was likely very close to done.

  “Just another day with no answers. I have the news on now; it’s all the local stations have talked about all day. Brunscorp and the missing money. So many of us are suffering, and it’s been months! When is that nasty man going to own up to his mistake and give us what we’ve earned?”

  “I don’t know, Mama, but hopefully soon,” Marianne said.

  It was another regular part of her day, bashing Jay Parish with her mother when she got home from work. She thought about what Jeff had said, about the man looking awful and clearly struggling. She didn’t believe it. Not really. No man that rich had trouble sleeping at night.

  His bed alone likely cost more than her yearly rent.

  Marianne took a few steps into the living room, where the television was broadcasting the local news. A handsome reporter was somberly reporting a story about an old man that was living in a shelter, waiting for news that he could return to his apartment.

  “The rent was no trouble before, but without a stable income, my landlord won’t let me return,” the man said, his voice wobbling as he fought back tears.

  Just seeing the man weep brought tears to Marianne’s eyes, and she glanced down to see that Zoe watching the television, too.

  “What do you think is going to happen, Mama? Grandma says bad rich men do what they want, and we have to pay the price.”

  Marianne’s heart sank. Zoe was only six years old. Far too young to be thinking any of those thoughts.

  “You know what I think?” Marianne said. “I think that we should turn this off and put on some cartoons.”

  “Yay!” Zoe said.

  Mar
ianne changed the channel, and Zoe settled on the couch as she made her way back to the kitchen in time for her mother to break a pile of spaghetti in half and toss it into boiling water.

  “You watch the news too much, Mama,” Marianne said. “It’s not going to change anything.”

  “What else do I have to do?” Elaine asked. “Ever since that money was taken from me, all I do is sit and wait.”

  “You could play with Zoe.”

  “We play plenty. Besides, she’s at school most of the day.”

  “Still, it’s not healthy to take in so much negativity. You need to remember to bring joy into your life,” Marianne said.

  “Yes, well. I’ll feel joyful when that man is brought to justice,” Elaine huffed. She stirred the spaghetti and opened a cabinet, removing bowls for their meal.

  “I agree wholeheartedly, but if we spend all our time focusing on his bad deeds, where does that leave us?”

  The overdue bill was burning a hole in her bag, and Marianne could almost see it catch fire from across the room in her mind’s eye. There was no doubt that Jay Parish’s actions had made their lives significantly worse, but she believed in what she was saying. If all they did was simmer and hope for some kind of revenge, what did that give them, in the end?

  “Fine, fine. I’ll tone it down with the news. I don’t like hearing her talk like that, either,” Elaine said, nodding in Zoe’s direction. “Zoe! Dinner’s on!” Elaine called.

  Marianne grabbed three forks and set their bowls on the table as Elaine brought over the pot of sauce and noodles. The three of them sat around the table together to enjoy the evening meal, and Marianne happily listened to all the shenanigans her daughter had enjoyed while at school.

  “And then Frankie said that I don’t have a dad so I couldn’t play, and I told him that I was twice as tough as him because I’m a good kid even without a dad. Then, I scored a goal and won the game, so he can’t say a thing about it again.”

  Marianne’s fork was frozen in the air as she stared at her daughter, her mouth open in shock.

  “Well, you did the right thing,” Elaine said. “Your mother’s father abandoned me before she was born, and unfortunately, yours did the same. That leaves us as three women that are forced to be stronger than anyone else. You showed your true toughness today, Zoe my girl. I’m proud of you.”

  Zoe beamed.

  Marianne wanted to cry. She’d wanted so much more for her daughter, and Zoe could have easily played the victim or acted out. Instead, she took her situation in stride, standing up for herself and having pride in who she was. When Marianne was a girl, she’d always been ashamed not to have a father. Zoe was so much stronger.

  “Yeah, well, I also have the best mom and grandma in the world,” Zoe said.

  The sweetness in her tone was just a tad too saccharine.

  “You’re fishing for dessert, aren’t you?” Marianne asked.

  Zoe blinked several times, feigning innocence.

  “I wasn’t! I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and for you to notice how much I just ate.”

  Marianne glanced at her girl’s plate, which was, in fact, clear of spaghetti. She nodded.

  “One popsicle, and that’s after we clear the table,” Marianne said.

  Zoe whooped with glee and set to work clearing the dishes. Marianne took one last bite before her bowl was scooped up and in the sink. She chuckled as Elaine opened the freezer and got them all treats, then the three of them settled on the couch to watch a movie before bed.

  Marianne was curled up on the end, with Zoe in the middle and Elaine on the other side. She loved being nestled up with her daughter, and she glanced over at the two people in the whole world she cared about most.

  Anxiety boiled in her belly as she considered the possibility of them being forced to leave the apartment, or worse, her mother losing her home. Losing their homes would be devastating, and Marianne wasn’t sure even Zoe could be tough enough to handle that kind of teasing at school.

  Marianne reached for a notepad and a pen, and began to make some notes. She would be fully prepared to meet Jay Parish the following day, and she would have some choice words for him, indeed.

  It was time to take action. Her family’s welfare depended on it.

  Chapter 3

  Marianne

  Marianne chewed on her thumbnail as she stared at the little clock on the bottom of her computer screen.

  It was twenty minutes until noon, when she was supposed to work up the courage to ask her boss for an exorbitant amount of money to stay afloat.

  Was she really brave enough for this?

  “Marianne, could you make a few copies of this for me, please?”

  A male accountant stood over her holding out a small pile of papers. Marianne nodded, grateful for the distraction.

  “Of course. How many do you need?” she asked.

  “Twenty-four. If you can deliver them to the conference room, that would be great.”

  Marianne nodded and smiled up at the man.

  “I’ll have it done right away.”

  “You’re the best,” he said.

  He was gone in a blink, and Marianne turned to face the copier just behind her desk, happy for the distraction. She set the document into the scanner and pressed the button to make copies, then sat back in her seat and watched as papers popped out of the printer, creating every document the man needed.

  What if he said no?

  Marianne held her hands at her sides to avoid chewing her fingers off one by one. What would she do if Jay Parish said no? How would she get the money to support her mother and her daughter?

  The machine finished the job and Marianne glanced back at the clock. She had just enough time to get the copies to the conference room before taking the elevator up to the fiftieth floor. She scooped them up and walked to the conference room, where she neatly laid out each document in front of every chair.

  Marianne had taken care to dress as professionally as possible today. She was in a black pencil skirt with matching heels and a white button-down blouse. She felt powerful and capable.

  And scared out of her mind.

  Once every paper was set, she turned and inhaled, bracing herself. There was a chance he wouldn’t even see her. Jeff had been very clear on that point. All this worry could be for nothing.

  But she had to try.

  Marianne squared her shoulders and walked to the elevator, pressing the silver button that would take her upward.

  She’d never been above the tenth floor, where Jeff hosted their monthly secretary meetings. The door dinged open and Marianne was relieved to find the cabin empty. The lunch rush generally tended to go the other direction.

  She pressed the button for the top floor and held her breath as the doors closed her in.

  Your family’s depending on you. Your family’s depending on you.

  She focused every ounce of her energy into those thoughts. She wasn’t doing any of this for herself. She had to be brave for the people in her life that couldn’t care for themselves. She had to find courage she never knew she had.

  She also had to find the humility to ask for money, when she’d been quite fine making it on her own.

  With a single mother and bills to pay, Marianne had started her first job working at the local grocery store as a clerk when she was fourteen. She had eventually moved into the store’s office, where she got the clerical experience that had landed her the job at Brunscorp. She’d thought about going to college, but she had always been so busy helping out her mom and then caring for and raising Zoe, that she’d never really thought about what she would want to major in.

  The elevator lifted higher, so much so that Marianne had to yawn to make her ears pop. A rush of anger washed through her. Jay Parish was so high and mighty he literally had to tower above the rest of the world.

  So out of touch.

  When she reached the fiftieth floor, the doors pulled apart, and she was met with an entirel
y altered scene.

  The executive floor was completely different from accounting. For one thing, there was no carpet, but a beautiful stone tile that covered the entirety of the floor. Instead of cubicles, there were several offices that lined the outer perimeter of the floor, meaning anyone that worked here had a panoramic view of the city.

  In the very center there was a large, circular desk, where Jeff sat at the ready to assist anyone that needed it. When she stepped out of the elevator, he glanced up and nodded to her. She hoped that the sound of her heels clicking against the tile was louder than the frantic beating of her heart.

  “Good afternoon,” Marianne said, in what she hoped sounded like a strong professional tone.

  Jeff’s smile was warm as he gestured for her to approach his desk.

  “Good afternoon to you. You look like you belong on this floor,” he said.

  “They say dress for the job you want,” Marianne said, though she wasn’t sure why.

  She could never imagine belonging all the way up here.

  “Is that what this is about? Are you looking to get promoted?”

  Marianne considered her words carefully. While she liked Jeff, she didn’t know much about him or his professional motivations. If there was one thing she’d learned in the world of business, it was to keep your motives close to your chest.

  “Perhaps. We’ll see what happens,” she said.

  It was noncommittal enough that he could only guess at what her enquiry was about, which was perfect. Jeff was apparently used to this, because his only reaction was a nod before he glanced back at his screen.

  “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. His office is on the far corner, to the left,” he said, pointing in that general direction. “Name plate’s on the office door if you need.”

  “Thanks,” Marianne said.

  Jeff’s attention was back on his screen. It would seem that Marianne was to guide herself to the right place. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d hoped Jeff would serve as some kind of buffer—a middle man that could provide an introduction for her.

 

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