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I closed my eyes, sure I knew what was coming. I hadn't gotten it, and I'd failed my father. Fear crept up in me as he made eye contact with me.
"It looks like they liked you. They have accepted your proposal."
My jaw dropped open. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Really?" I could hear the disbelief and excitement in my voice at the same time.
"Yep, they have asked you to start next month."
I stared at my father. "What about the project I'm working on? I can't just walk off that job."
"Ben, I can put John in charge of that one. If you really want out of this town, you need to decide what you want to do. They will not wait forever. You either take it or they will give it to someone else."
I couldn't stop the excitement rising in me at the thought of getting out of this town. "I’ll take it then."
"Yes, I know that, but I want to know if it's a temporary thing or if you will open up a new branch of Sunset Builders."
I smiled, and without question, I immediately knew what I wanted. "Let's open up that new division."
A huge smile landed on my father's face, and the next thing I knew, he held his large hand out over his desk for me to shake. I placed my hand in his. "Congratulations!"
Chapter 6
Jessica - Five Years Later
I looked in the mirror and saw a girl that I barely recognized anymore. "How did you get here?" I muttered to myself and picked up the pressed powder compact that sat on the bathroom vanity. I ran the sponge-like pad through the concealer and dabbed at the now bluish-green bruise that was forming nicely on my cheek, courtesy of Kendrick.
I had done everything that my husband had asked of me. I worked hard to get myself in shape. I sat through boring parties hoping one night he would introduce me to the powers that be to make my career take off. I hung off his arm when asked and stepped away when asked, like some prize he had won. I'd done it for years, but there were never the introductions he had promised. Instead, the few contracts I had signeddropped me after they found out he was the one representingme. Now I was merely a pawn in his game to make him look better to the people he deemed important—the ones who still lined his pockets.
As for all theother promises that he had made to me, and occasionally still made, not one of them had come true. Instead, shortly after we met, he had moved me here, into his condo. Now I wore his ring, or handcuff as I frequently called it. All it had really become was a reminder to me of the trap I had fallen into. I looked down at the gold band and cringed.
I once again dabbed at the bruise. We'd had a fight. Kendrick had a meeting this morning, and while I was cooking breakfast, he was sitting in the dining room going over his documents.
With plates in hand, I made my way into the dining room whenmy foot got caught in the strap of his bag. The glass of orange juice was the first to go, spilling all over the documents on the table.
"You stupid bitch!" he'd yelled, picking up the glass and throwing it across the room. It hit the wall, smashing into a million pieces.
In terror, I dropped his breakfast over the remaining documents, and that was when he had backhanded me across the face, knocking me to the floor. He gathered his juice-soaked and food-covered documents, shoving them into the garbage. Leaving me on the floor, he took his bag and slammed the condo door.
I shook at the memory. I gathered my overly processed, dry hair and threw it up into a ponytail and walked into the kitchen. I needed to get out of this relationship. Aside from the constant verbal and physical abuse, I'd had an inkling that Kendrick was seeing someone else on his lengthy business trips.
Last year, I had begunto stash money in a hidden cookie jar and stored it in the back of one of the kitchen cupboards. Kendrick never lifted a finger in the kitchen. In fact, I was sure he had never even stepped into this one, so I knew the money was safe there.
I climbed onto a chair and pulled the jar down from the cupboard, pulling out aroll of bills. I reached into my pocket and quickly added the sixty dollars Kendrick had given me earlier in the week and replaced the lid.
I was surprised at the amount I'd been able to save. The way Kendrick tracked my spending, it was a wonder I could save at all. He gave me just enough money every month to buy my personal care items and our groceries. However, as the abuse got worse, I started looking for ways to cut. Instead of using premium lines of care products, I started buying cheaper products and refilling the bottles of the premium lines when Kendrick wasn't home so I didn't give it away that I had switched anything. I also started shopping for food thatwas on sale or clearance, enabling me to save even more. It would only be a matter of time before I could leave. I tucked the cookie jar back up into the cupboard and headed down to the lobby to get the mail.
I pulled open the little mailbox and pulled out a large stack of mail and went back upstairs. I sifted through the mail, all of it for Kendrick, but the last piece caught my eye. My name was on the manila envelope, the return address from Malone Family Law Firm, Kings Cove Harbor. I frowned as I turned the envelope over in my hands.
Once I was safely back in the condo, I took that envelope and opened it and read the letter inside. I'd barely made it past the first couple of sentences when tears quickly clouded my vision. My grandfather James McKay had passed away over four months ago. Growing up, I had been very close to my grandfather, and after a falling out with my mother, he had moved away. I wiped the tears from my eyes and did my best to concentrate on the letter.
"James McKay has bequeathed you ownership of his condominium locatedat 2501-425 Madison Avenue, along with all of his possessions. Please contact me to discuss transfer of property and all financial accounts."
I covered my mouth and squealed with excitement. I re-read the letter again before folding it up and placing it in my pocket. This was my ticket out of here. I couldn't help but feel my excitement build. I glanced at the clock that sat on my night table. It was Wednesday and almost ten. I had to meet Kate for our usual coffee date.
I walked by the window of our usual meeting place and saw Kate sitting at a table waiting for me.
"Morning!" I greeted as I approached the table.
"Morning," she said, looking up from her favorite gossip rag, “Rumor Has It.” "My god, what the hell happened to you?" she questioned, closing the magazine and reaching out to touch my cheek.
