Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,9

mom. I should be proud to raise a daughter and not thinking my boss will perceive me as someone who will constantly be calling in sick.

“She’s adorable.” Chelsea wastes no time to pick up the frame and inspect it. “She looks just like you.”

Poor Pete. We both hear that all the time. But I see a lot of him in her, especially in her character.

“We’re like the modern-day version of the First Wives Club.” Chelsea places the picture back down. Both Hannah and I look over at her, not understanding. “You know, that movie with Diane Keaton, Goldie Hawn and…” she snaps her fingers. “What’s the other one’s name?”

“Bette Midler.” I chime in.

She places her hand up in the air. “Are you a movie lover, too?”

“Oh, that one where they seek revenge on their ex’s?” Hannah asks.

“That’s the one. We’re kind of like them except we’re not going to extort our ex’s,” Chelsea says. “Though I would’ve if mine had had anything worth having.”

“Mine is probably dating someone half his age,” Hannah says with disgust in her voice.

“Mine is probably in jail right about now,” Chelsea adds.

“Mine is a workaholic.” My story doesn’t sound nearly as bad as these two. “But I do have to have constant communication with him because we share a child.”

They both laugh.

“True.” Chelsea says. “I thank the heavens I didn’t end up knocked up with my bastard of an ex. No offense.”

“None taken.” I look down at the picture of Jade, knowing Pete in my life isn’t half as bad as having Jade not in it.

“Hold on girls.” Hannah walks down the hall.

“There’s a small break room down there,” Chelsea says.

Hannah returns a minute later with a bottle of champagne and three coffee to-go cups.

“We’re going to celebrate. To the kick off RISE. To us starting our lives over. To being free of controlling males.”

She pries the bottle open easier than I could’ve and pours us each a drink. Placing the bottle down, she holds up her cup. “To a clean slate and new adventures.”

Chelsea and I knock our paper cups against hers. “To a clean slate and new adventures,” we say in unison.

As the bubbles from the champagne tickle my throat, I smile, knowing I made a good decision coming here. Surrounding myself with a duo of empowering women, helping my mom and raising my daughter without a man in my life sounds like the perfect way to start over.

Looking back, that sentiment seems laughable given what happened the following week.

THE END

Can Victoria start over when she runs in

to the BEST MAN from her wedding

at morning drop-off?

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Chapter One of Manic Monday

My hand slams down on my alarm, but instead of shutting the bloody thing off, the screaming banshee slides off my nightstand and drops to the floor. I peek out one eye and the immediate sight of the clutter of clothing and boxes in the makeshift bedroom makes me want to squeeze it shut again. The piercing sound of my alarm still rattles inside my head as its cacophony continues from the floor. My palm continually slaps the wood, hoping to make contact with the cord so that I can yank the damn thing up and shut it off.

“Mom?” my daughter Jade calls out to me.

I swivel my head in the direction of her voice and there she stands in her poop emoji pajamas with my alarm poised in her hands like she’s offering me a gift.

“Turn it off,” I groan and bring the pillow over my head.

Her small feet pad along the hardwood floors, squeaking right at the edge of my bed. The pillow gets plucked from my grasp, and seconds later the overhead light flickers on, blinding me temporarily.

“You’re going to be late.” My mom’s voice adds to the mix from down the hall.

I dream of being woken up by some suave foreign man who doesn’t speak a lick of English, while he uses his soft, roaming hands and sprinkles kisses over my flesh to stir me into consciousness. Instead, I get my seven-year-old daughter and my mom to orchestrate my Monday morning trip to Crazyville.

Jade turns off the alarm and sets it down on the nightstand. “It’s seven,” she says in a completely unalarmed tone.

“What?” I sit up, chip crumbs falling to the rumpled sheets.

“Eating in bed again?” She giggles, and I snatch her up by her waist pulling her onto the bed with me, using