Page 5 of Billion Dollar Dispute

I contemplate the offer because it means I won’t be late meeting Mom. “If you don’t mind.”

Jade touches Chad's shoulder. “We’ll look after you. Kiss Mom goodbye so she can go to work.”

I squat and give Chad a big cuddle and kiss. He scrunches his face up as if he’s embarrassed about getting a kiss from me. Rising again, an older guy with black and grey hair approaches.

Jade's face beams as she rushes out, “Oh, Jemima, this is my son Haiden.”

The one they—including Chad—keep mentioning to me. Haiden’s expression tightens, his eyes briefly flicking to me before settling somewhere into the distance. He barely nods, lips pressed into a thin line. Disinterest radiates off him, and I’m relieved. I’m glad he isn’t interested in me either, becauseI couldn’t think of anything worse than trusting another man again.

At first, I was reluctant to have Haiden around Chad, but Jade assured me she’d always be there, and that it was just for basketball since it’s too much for Pedro at his age. “Could we play some basketball?” Chad asks, shoving his ball toward Haiden.

Haiden shuffles in his black work shoes and crisp gray suit. “I can’t today. I’ve got work, and you have to go to school.”

Moments like these fill me with anger. I wonder if Butch ever thought of us while he was doing God knows what, selling drugs to strangers and putting his family at risk. I doubt we ever crossed his mind. I doubt he thought about his wife and child having to watch him be taken away by the police. Our bank accounts drained. Now I’m left alone, stuck in this apartment with nothing but painful memories keeping me up all night.

I swallow the nasty words I want to call Chad’s asshole father and focus on the good times. There was a point when I loved him, and he was a good father. I just wish I knew why and when he picked up his drug habit. However, I’m not willing to waste my time looking for those answers either. He chose drugs, and I chose my family.

“I’ll play with you.” Pedro winks at him.

Chad punches the air. “Yesss.”

“Okay, I better get to work, and you need to go to school.”

Haiden is talking to his dad, and I spot a piece of paper between them. I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the plans to sell the apartment complex in the next few months. Jade has been hinting at it lately.

This reminds me that I need to get to work, where I can focus on saving my parents’ business so I can afford a new place.

On the subway to Lexington Ave, I pull out my notepad and make a to-do list. I have zero experience in events, and even lessrunning a business. Now, here I am, wrapping my head around my new business, or what I like to call my life raft. I exit the subway to a building in Carnegie, walking the steps dreaming of a new life for me and Chad.

“Mom,” I say, hugging her.

She pulls back but keeps a firm grip on my arms, her gaze on me, searching my face. “You ready, darling?”

“More than ever.”

Chapter 2

Jemima

“This time in threeweeks, you’ll be off to Alaska,” I say to Mom, forcing a smile and ignoring the way my stomach twists into knots.

“Can you believe it,” she replies. “I’ve already packed my sequins and faux furs. You can’t cruise to Alaska without looking fabulous!”

“Probably because you gave yourself no time,” I say with a laugh, though it sounds a bit unconvincing, even to my own ears.

“Oh, darling, spontaneity is the spice of life! I’ve spent too many years planning everything down to the last napkin fold. Now, I’m all about last-minute thrills!”

As we approach the office doors, my heart is in my throat. I haven’t been here for many years, and Mom said a lot has changed since then. The doors are large and the frosted glass panels give nothing away to what lies behind them. Mom pushes the door open with a squeak, and we step inside. The office space is sparse, with simple white walls, harsh fluorescent lighting,and basic wooden desks that have seen better days. As I take a deep breath, the air smells faintly of old paper and something I can’t put my finger on. A makeover is definitely overdue.

We continue walking, our footsteps echoing through the empty hallway, until Mom suddenly stops at the front desk. “Molly, this is my daughter Jemima,” Mom introduces me to a woman with platinum-blond hair that shines under the light, her roots a darker color. The sight pulls my attention to my own reflection in the glass nearby. I’m in need of a color, as you can now see pieces of gray peeking through my brown hair.

Molly sits in her office chair, her fingers tapping on the computer as she looks up with a curious smile. Her eyes are a bright blue and stand out against her hair. I walk around her desk, extending my hand. “Call me Jem,” I say with a smile.

“Nice to meet you,” Molly replies, slipping her hand in mine, her grip firm and her smile warm, which instantly makes my shoulders drop away from my ears.

“Molly, I'm showing Jemima around. Do you have time to help?” Mom asks.

Molly jumps up to her feet, her movements quick and eager. “Sure thing, boss.”

---