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*****
Tiffany huddled on the sofa, a full glass of Cabernet in her hands. She sat there in the dark staring at the mess she’d made of the living room. The expensive vase was smashed in the corner and the table was now a mess of broken pieces on the floor and that still wasn’t enough.
She’d wanted to scratch that bitch’s eyes out. How dare she sat there like she was royalty, talking to her like that! She should have poured the pot of hot tea over her fricking head. Taking a gulp of the wine, she rose to walk over to the window. No doubt she was there cozied up to that man of hers.
How could some people have all the luck and people like her get the shitty end of the stick? It wasn’t fair. She’d been through so much and deserved a break. Now, she was knocked up and didn’t even know who the kid belonged to.
It could be anyone. She’d been with Ivan once and she’d done the seducing, but he was the one with the money and the one who could advance her career. She’d threatened to tell his wife and the media and he’d invited her to do her worst.
"I’ve already come clean with my wife." He‘d told her coldly. "If you go to the press with this, your career will be ruined."
He was right. He was a big-name producer; people are going to lean more to him and be sympathetic. They’ll just look at her as a two-bit whore who opened her legs to get what she wanted. But who could blame her? She thought resentfully.
She had bills to pay. Her stupid brother had gotten himself in trouble again with drugs. Now she was having to pay for his shit again. She was sick to death of carrying him. Pity he didn’t take enough to put his lights out for good.
Blinking back the tears, she swallowed some more wine and wondered if it was too late to get rid of the brat growing inside her. She’d thought of using it as a bargaining chip, but that’d blown up in her face. Now, she was going to have to come up with a different plan.
She’d wanted to make friends with the snotty bitch, but that wasn’t going to work anymore. She should have realized that being Michelle's daughter, she’d be familiar or even friendly with Ivan. She’d wanted someone on her side.
Now, she had no idea what she was going to do. She couldn’t have this baby, she had her career to think about.
Taking another gulp of wine, she stared moodily at the gathering dusk and crappy weather. It was raining, icy drops pinging against the window pane and mirroring her own crappy mood. Yes, she was definitely going to have to come up with something else.
Chapter 11
The weeks flew by and she was so caught up with all the activities Macayla didn’t give her crazy neighbor another thought. The weather hadn’t let her go for a run and being sick most of the time, she decided it was prudent to use the well-equipped gym in Brady's apartment.
Her mother loved the season and planned all sorts of activities around it. There were also the different charities. "It's this time of year we realize how good we have it." Michelle told her daughter. "We’re blessed and we need to spread it around."
So, Macayla was roped into serving at several soup kitchens and handing out baskets to people who weren’t so fortunate. Then there was the toy drive for kids who couldn’t afford to have toys. She went overboard and, along with Brady, went to do some shopping to add to the hefty parcel that was placed at the church.
"I feel sorry for them." She told Brady that night. "You should see the ones who are in care homes. Some were moody, but the others were so grateful, they started to cry and then I started to cry. I felt like an idiot."
"You’re pregnant." He pointed out with a smile.
"That's no excuse. Anyway, there was this cute little girl with big pigtails and one arm that tugged at my heart. Turned out her Mom left her on the church's step because she lost the arm due to an accident. She just took off. How could a Mom do that to her child."
"How old?"
"Six - no, seven."
"Knowing you, you want to do something for her."
"She’s so sweet and has this beautiful cocoa-brown complexion. I was wondering if your company would like to sponsor her."
"Sponsor her how?"
"She could get an arm, a prosthesis. It costs- well an arm and a leg - Ha ha. But with the right doctors and therapy, she could lead a normal life. No one wants to adopt her, which is a shame, but we, as in your company, could step up and do something."
"I’ll have to run it by the board."
"That's going to take a long time. I’m sure you have personal funds. I never really asked how much you’re worth."
"Why would you care?"
"Well, we’re living together and we have a child on the way, I have a vested interest.”
“You don’t really care about the money.”
