Money Can't Buy Love

Michael“Hello Sam,” I said to my head of staff and security. I managed to leave him in Manhattan this year, and it was a hard-fought argument to do so. I played to his ego and had told him I wanted no one else to keep my affairs in order while I was away.“Good afternoon, Michael,” Sam said. “After not hearing from you since yesterday, I wanted to check in.”Sam wasn’t much older than me, but he was a fatherly-type of man. Overbearing as hell sometimes but I’d rather he be really good at his job than being a slacker.“How’s everything there?” I reached up to brush my hair back.“Just peachy. Where are you?”I glanced at the nearest exit sign. “I’m about forty-five minutes out. I could make that thirty if you need something.”“No, no, Sir,” Sam said quickly. “Take your time.”I laughed. Sam hated driving with me. Which I think is another reason he decided to stay in Manhattan. I would have given him time off for the holiday, but he insisted on working through it. He didn’t talk much a

RaineyI walked back to the living room as if I hadn’t sneaked a taste.“What’s Dad up to today?” I asked, opening the next box of decorations. Tinsel burst from the stuffed box and I tried to untangle it.“He’s checking some job.” Mom snapped her fingers and I looked up at her. She mimed swiping her hand over her hair.I did the same and realized I had a chunk of lasagna in my hair. Busted. I smiled at her and tied my hair up into a messy bun. It was always in my face. I needed a cut and coloring really bad, but that wasn’t in the budget this month.She rolled her eyes. “You never could wait.”“It’s so good, though, Mom.”“Well, you know how your father is with leftovers. I need to give it to someone.”Dad hated leftovers. It was a repeated argument in their house. At least Tanner and I would benefit from Dad’s pickiness. Though I had an idea she made two lasagnas instead of one, knowing we would be able to eat it for a few days.“Can I have some too?” Tanner asked. He was a scrawny

MichaelA half-hour later, I was at my desk. I’d only finished about half the smoothie. A few days away from it had made my taste buds turn against it. I choked down the rest of it, not delaying the inevitable. The chalky after taste was still in my mouth when I picked up the phone.I called Sandra first. She answered on the third ring.“Hello?” a muffled voice said from the other end of the call.“Sandra?” I asked, checking to see I had the right number.She coughed and loudly cleared her throat. I pulled the speaker away from my ear.“Yeah, boss. Sorry. I’m getting a cold.”Getting? She sounded like hell. I rubbed my forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache. She spearheaded all of the interviews for the assistant position; I needed her well, like now.“Are you healthy enough to chat?” I asked firmly. It was rhetorical and she knew that.There was a shuffling sound on the other end. “Of course I am. What do you need?”“How many interviews are set up for tomorrow?” My headache gr

RaineyTwice on the way to the train, Killian’s ring tone blared from my phone again. I didn’t need his shit today. I pressed END every single time. Even though he wouldn’t stop calling, he didn’t leave a message or send a text. So obviously whatever he needed wasn’t that important or else he’d try to find another method of contacting me. The only emergency I cared about was Tanner and he was safe with my parents. If I picked up the phone Killian would say something stupid and mess with my head somehow.It was only during those last months of our marriage that I realized how much he held me back in life. He had been the one to go to college while I was stuck paying the bills by taking odd temp jobs. Then when Tanner came along, Killian didn’t want me to work. It was only later that I understood that he wanted to be the big-shot breadwinner with a wife at home who would be at his beck and call. I had drive once and it took spending everything I had (plus money from my parents) on a law

MichaelThe traffic downtown was heavier at this hour, but I wasn’t in a rush. I still had plenty of time before the first interview. And I ate the bagel slower than normal to extend the experience.While driving around Bar Harbor, the people smiled and waved as you passed. In New York, everyone’s heads were down, focused on where they needed to go. The friendly faces were nice, but I felt more at ease with the scowling New Yorkers. This city was full of businessmen and no one bothered to notice another suit or luxury car.Even in the traffic, Constantine managed to get me to my building by eight-thirty.He opened the door for me as I was dusting bagel crumbs from my coat. I stood up and took my briefcase from him.“Have a great day, Constantine,” I said, adjusting my overcoat.“You too, Sir. Six o’clock pickup?”“Yes. I will have Sandra call you if that changes.”“Have a good day, Mr. Carrington.”I nodded and headed toward my building. Another perk of showing up later was less traff