5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jemima

“Harvey Lincoln is on the line,” my mom calls out from the office, her voice calm yet urgent.

She’s helping me out this morning because Molly’s running late.

I frown, not recognizing the name. “Who’s that?”

“He owns Lincoln Acquisitions,” she replies, her tone suggesting that I should be familiar with the name.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” I mutter under my breath, pulling out my phone and quickly typing his name into Google. The search results load, and my frown deepens. Pictures of a handsome, young, rich, and sleek-suited man appear alongside articles with headlines talking about corporate takeovers and aggressive business tactics. Molly usually handles phone calls like this. I’m trying to figure out what to do when Mom rushes out, “Can I transfer him? There’s another call coming through.”

“Sure,” I sigh, even though I don’t like the sound or look of him. Google makes him look like a jerk, all smirks and perfectly tailored designer suits.

“Mrs. Recaredo,” comes a smooth, rehearsed voice on the line, dripping with false charm.

I bite my tongue, but I can’t stop myself. “Ms. Recaredo,” I correct sharply, emphasizing the “Ms.” I’m no longer married, and I want to make it clear I’m not tied to Butch in any way.

“Sorry, Ms. Recaredo.”

Better . “What can I do for you?” I ask, my voice cool and businesslike.

Assuming he wants to book an event, I find some paper and start looking around my messy desk for a pen. But I have no luck. I’ll have to get one from Molly when she finally arrives.

“I want to talk to you about Recaredo Events,” he continues, his tone dropping the charm to now all business. “I’ve spoken to your mother.”

I freeze, my fingers curling into a fist. No need to get a pen now. “It’s not for sale,” I bark out, my pulse quickening.

“I’ve done some research, and I can see the business is struggling. I want to help,” he retorts bluntly.

Asshole.

“That’s none of your business. It’s not for sale. Don’t call me again,” I snap, then slam the phone down. My hands tremble with a mix of anger and anxiety.

A minute later, there’s a soft knock on the door. Molly pokes her head in, her cheeks flushed from hurrying. “What was that about?”

I shake off the exchange and force a smile. “Hey. Just someone wanting to buy the business.”

A wrinkle forms between her eyebrows, and she steps into the room.

Her expression makes me ask. “What?”

“You could, you know,” she says softly, taking a seat across from me.

“I don’t want to.”

“I’ll be fine, and Danny will too. Don’t think about us,” she reassures me, her voice gentle but unconvincing. I appreciate how selfless she’s being.

“I want this business, so unless you quit, you’re stuck with me.”

A large smile stretches across her face. “Single moms for the win.”

“Well, that depends on how your date goes,” I tease, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

Molly has been excitedly talking about a guy she met on a dating app for the past few days. She’s been my co-worker for about two weeks now and we are getting closer by the second.

“I’m not planning to settle down,” she insists, though a blush tints her cheeks.

“Oh, I know.” I’ve read their messages, and even now, thinking about them, I can’t help blushing. He’s so descriptive about how much he wants her and what he wants to do with her. Even if it’s a hookup, I’m happy for her if that’s what she wants. As for me, I could never. It’s just not in me to do that. I’ll happily be her cheerleader.

“What if he’s catfishing me?” She chuckles, trying to sound nonchalant, but I can hear the underlying worry.

“What makes you say that?”

“He looks too good to be true. What if he’s photoshopped all his pictures?”

“I don’t think guys do that shit,” I reply with a shake of my head.

“You don’t think so?”

“No, they’re not that smart,” I say with a wink, watching as she heads back to her desk. But even as I turn back to my computer, I can’t shake the thoughts of Mr. Lincoln’s offer. The money would be great. I could move out of the apartment and find something better, a place with no memories of my ex. But I need more than money. I have a goal to make something of myself, to prove I’m worth something, and that even as a single mom, I can succeed without a man.

Five hours later, I’m opening my front door, and my breath catches at the sight before me. Molly stands there, model-like in a tight, long-sleeved black dress that hugs her hourglass figure perfectly. Her hips are the kind I’ve always dreamed of having. “Molly. Wow.”

She looks down, then meets my gaze with a wry smile. “So I take it I look good?”

“Good is an understatement.” I admire how the dress accentuates every curve. I remember hoping I’d develop nice curves after having Chad, but it never happened.

She straightens, her eyes sparkling with excitement. I wouldn’t be excited for a date; instead, I'd feel dread, but seeing her happy makes me happy.

She peers at her watch, her loose waves falling in front of her face. With a shake of her head, she clears them away. “I better go.”

“Have fun,” I say, smiling.

“Hugo.” She bends to peer around me, catching a glimpse of him running off to the living room. “I love you.”

He doesn’t respond when she waves, too busy playing with Chad. The room is a mess, filled with Lego blocks, cars, trains, and action figures scattered across the floor.

“If you need to bail, go to the bathroom and call me. I'll come and get you.”

“I’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I’ll call you if I need you.”

She turns and walks slowly down the stairs in her black pumps, each step carefully measured. The soft clicking of her heels echoes along the concrete. I watch until she disappears from my view, feeling grateful for our newfound friendship that feels a lot like family.

I close the door behind me and head to the room where the boys have now constructed a large train set. Their little faces are bright with enthusiasm, their hands moving quickly to piece together the tracks while they talk.

Watching Chad play happily with Hugo makes me pause.

I once wished for a big family, more kids…but now, I know that will never happen. Chad will never have a sibling, and I’ll never get another child. I’m almost forty-three, and I’ve only just separated from my husband. I’m not in the right headspace to find another partner. Molly's date doesn’t make me want to do the same thing. In fact, the thought of dating makes me want to vomit.

As I stand there, I take in the sound of the boys’ laughter, their sweet conversation as they finish building the train tracks and move on to something else. I remind myself that, even if my life isn’t what I had once envisioned, there’s still so much to be thankful for.

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