Page 20 of Marrying My Ex's Boss

I wasn’t afraid for me and my kids. I doubt I would’ve been even without Marcus, though it helps tremendously that he’s there. I’ve never been one to let life keep me down for too long, but this was insane even for me.

I couldn’t find one grain of feeling for the man I’d married. What kind of love could just switch off like that? I keep trying to grieve, at least, but I don’t even feel to do that.

You know that feeling you get when you know something’s going to hit you hard later once it settles in? I don’t even have that. It’s as if someone flipped a switch in me, and there’s nothing, just nothing there at all.

Now, my parents raised my siblings and me to be self-sufficient and how to value ourselves, and though that has helped me throughout my life, there were still times when I felt the pain of someone’s betrayal or the pain of losing something in the past. But I couldn’t dredge up any feelings for Paul.

Gracie said he’d taken them to Grandma’s with the lady, and they hadn’t seen him since. This meant he’d had his bitch around my kids, and apparently, it wasn’t the first time because she described knowing Daddy’s friend from before and seeing her at the park with Daddy and again when they went for ice cream.

So this bastard and his bitch were playing house with my kids. I didn’t let myself get too worked up because nothing good ever comes of that. ‘We don’t even have to worry. We don’t have to give a fuck. Our Marcus is gonna handle this shit; you watch.’

Our Marcus?

‘Look bitch, don’t get greedy. I know you want all the dick for yourself, but without me, you would be nothing.’ Justice has an overblown estimation of himself.

* * *

My kids weren’t even awake yet when Monique came to my door and walked in loaded down with bags. “Come on, where are the kiddos? Still in bed?”

“Yeah, I’m taking your advice and keeping Gracie home for a few days. What’s all this?”

“This is your power suit for today. The rest will be delivered later. Now, come on, the others will be here soon. Oh, this is for you.” She gave me a card, which I opened and read.

“Monique and the stylist will take care of you before the big meeting today. I know females take their power back in many ways, and one of those ways is looking spectacular. Love Marcus D.”

“Big meeting?”

“Did you forget? Today is Marcus’ first day on the job, and you’re his executive assistant.” I barely had time to register her words before there was another knock at the door, and some big-ass German woman looking like Greta was standing there.

“Is this her? Hell, look at those split ends. Let’s get started. We don’t have all day, and we need it.”

“Listen, you Teutonic twit, it’s too damn early in the morning for your Gestapo shit.”

“Well, if it isn’t hell’s own angel. I thought you’d get eaten by a school of piranhas in the Amazon.”

“Bitch!”

“Heifer.”

“Girrrllllll!” What am I witnessing? Okay, no stereotypes, but I think the German sounded more street than Monique. The two of them hugged and looked each other over, then they started speaking in German and Monique was as fluent as Greta.

“I’m teaching her her native language; don’t mind us.” Monique grinned at me.

“You’re teaching her?”

“Yeah, her ass was born in Brooklyn. She’s never seen Berlin a day in her life.” What is my life?

‘Yasssss bitch yasssss. These my people right here. Move bitch get out the way get out the way.’ Justice was trying to push me out so he could hang with his new friends.

* * *

For someone with fingers as thick as Mila’s, that’s her real name; by the way, she did her thing with my hair. When I tell you that shit was on point, I didn’t know hair could shine like gold. The next one through the door that Monique had let in because I was under the dryer that Mila brought along with her was a makeup artist.

She was a no-nonsense Hispanic woman who talked a mile a minute, and I’m not sure if she and Monique got into my scotch or what, but the two of them never stopped laughing. Oh, and Monique is fluent in Spanish as well.

The three of them buzzed around me until it was time to get dressed. The suit was an Alexander McQueen single-breasted classic pantsuit in winter white. I don’t know how he knew but fuck if that isn’t my color.

‘He should get a piece just for this shit right here. We look good. We look damn good.’

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