Preview - At His Beck & Call #2
Bethany has a lucrative job. An extremely lucrative job. Very few of the people in her closest circle know what she actually does for a living. But I do. Beth doesn’t keep anything from me.
Sterling House has been paying for her lavish lifestyle for over three years, and she’s earned even more than James in that time.
My ex-husband works in finance, is close to becoming a millionaire, and lives in a world outside reality.
He often sneered at Bethany’s job as an Executive Assistant, never understanding what it was she did.
Bethany is the reason I got away. She helped me move, got me this apartment, and never gave up on me, even when I nearly went back to him—twice.
But I can’t rely on anyone else to save me any longer. James controlled my life for years, never allowing me to earn a living and gatekeeping my time and my money. Everything. I was trapped for so long that I forgot what it was to be free.
The days of letting others prop me up are over. I won’t ever ask him for anything the rest of my life. I made that promise to myself, and I have to stick to it for my own sanity.
If I can persuade Bethany to help me one more time, maybe there’s a way to get the money I need for Henry without James ever knowing anything about it.
Chapter 2 - Lissa
The dentist where I work is in Manhattan, not too far from Times Square. It caters to patients with big budgets and bigger egos, and I hate working there.
My first three weeks on the job were a baptism of fire. Having not worked for over six years since I met James, I had no experience with anything that came across my desk. I had to constantly pretend I knew what I was doing, living every day on the edge of losing it.
Even computers had changed beyond all recognition since I had been at college, and the office’s internal systems could have been written in Chinese for how much I understood them.
But I was a fast learner, and despite the other staff being hostile toward me, I endured it all to come out the other side.
My determination to keep my job is the only thing keeping me there. My boss is a gigantic bitch, and six other front office staff have come and gone in the year I’ve worked there. I wasn’t going to turn down the chance of a regular paycheck, even if I did have to deal with dicks every day.
“What the fuck? You’re charging me for showing up late?”
“Yes, sir,” I say hesitantly. The guy is turning bright red. “It states on our policy that delays can be charged back to the patient.”
“What, you can’t wait for an hour for me to get out of a meeting?”
“We have other patients who were delayed because of you.”
“I’m not paying it.”
Maria, on my left, looks up from the registration sheet she’s reading and glowers at him.
“You can choose to do so, Mr. Carter,” she says, leaning back casually in her chair, completely unfazed.
“But you did sign the paperwork stating that you had read our terms and conditions. The policy is clear. We have your card on file. We can charge it or start formal proceedings. Which would you prefer?”
I bite my tongue, wishing I had the balls to speak to people like that. Mr. Carter is almost purple now. I stand mutely waiting for him to explode or start throwing things.
Why can’t I ever stand up for myself?
“You’re a little bitch, you know that?” he says to me, handing over another card. I hear rather than see Maria slowly stand up beside me.
“Let me just go and relay that to the head of the practice. I’m sure she’d be interested to know we’ll be terminating you as a patient due to the language you use with the staff.”
Mr. Carter rolls his eyes, scoffing at both of us as he snatches back the card I’ve charged and stalks out.
My hands are trembling violently. Every altercation like this is triggering. The tactics most men used to belittle and demean me are always the same.
I feel trampled on, weak and powerless, relying on other people to speak for me when I should just have told that guy where to shove his attitude.
I glance at Maria, who has returned to her seat. “Thanks,” I mutter awkwardly.
“No worries.”
“Is it still okay if I go to lunch now?” I ask. “I’m meeting a friend.”
“Sure. You’re going to be back by one, though, right?”
I glance at the computer monitor, my heart sinking. “That’s only forty minutes.”
“Yeah. I have to go to the bank, and it takes like twenty minutes to walk there. Sorry.”
I don’t argue, grabbing my bag and leaving the lobby through the main doors, pulling on my jacket as I head quickly along the sidewalk, sending a quick text to Bethany that our lunch will be shorter than planned.
Thankfully, we are meeting just around the corner, but when I reach the restaurant, I frown, double-checking that I’ve got the right place from the dropped pin she sent. My chest tightens when I realize it’s correct. The awning outside is dark green, classy-looking, and it even has a valet.
Fuck, this place looks expensive.
Walking inside, I tug at my skirt. The cheap suit I’m wearing certainly doesn’t stack up to the designer outfits on display as soon as I walk through the door.
I love fashion and follow the trends and catwalks religiously.
But I can’t afford anything close to the prices of the clothing.
I walk past a woman wearing Blahniks and a Celine blazer, staring at her longingly.
She looks like a swan gliding along a stream, and I’m a frog floundering past, barely able to keep my head above water.
I smile as Bethany waves from a booth on the opposite side of the room. She stands, her statuesque figure perfect and confident as ever. But, then again, she could wear a trash bag and make it look beautiful.
“Hey, gorgeous,” she says with a little grin. “I can’t believe you only have thirty minutes. I ordered for us. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course!”
“I’m picking up the check, by the way,” she says, with a smile. “So stop looking so worried.”
“Oh, thank God,” I say, lowering into my seat. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t be stupid. It’s my treat, and I picked this place. It’s nice though, right? I love the waiter’s uniforms; I could literally eat a man in a three-piece suit.”
“Have you done something different with your hair?” I ask. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks,” Bethany says, touching her hair. She’s wearing long diamond earrings that complement her shimmery makeup. Everything about her is sparkling today. I can’t stop staring at her.
“Did Piechowski let you out early?” I ask, referring to Bethany’s new boss.
“Yeah. But he’s grumbling about it, as per usual. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll work for him, to be honest. He’s being kind of a douche to everybody, and I’m getting a lot of blowback.”
“I thought you loved that job.”
“I love the office. I could take or leave the man. He’s kind of overwhelming sometimes and keeps making these jokes about firing me as if I need him or something. I’m not sure he realizes how many clients have asked to have me back since I left them. I think the count is up to five now.”
She smiles at me cheerfully, and I can’t help laughing at her.
“Anyway,” she says, sitting forward and leaning her elbows on the table. “This lunch isn’t about me. What’s up? It’s not like you to spontaneously invite me out for food. Has something happened with James? I’ll fucking kill that asshole if he’s bothering you again.”
I huff a laugh, picking up my water glass as several plates of food are delivered. There are dumplings nestled on a bed of fried cabbage, beautifully cooked filet mignon, and a tiny dish of mashed potatoes that makes my mouth water instantly.
“I got that for you,” Bethany says, poking the potato toward me. “You know I don’t do carbs after breakfast.”
“Thank you.”
I spoon some of the food onto my plate eagerly, realizing how hungry I am as the scent of the steak hits my nose. I only realize Bethany is staring at me when I look up, her eyes filled with concern.
“What’s going on, Liss?” she says, her own plate forgotten. “You look exhausted. Did you sleep last night? You said your insomnia was getting better. Did you read that book on circadian rhythms I lent you?”
I swallow a spoonful of potatoes, just to taste the creamy buttery goodness before I have to tell my best friend the horrible news. I consider leading in slowly, beating around the bush until I have to tell her the truth, but in the end, it just pours out of my mouth.
“You know how I took Henry to the doctors because of his stomach pain?” I blurt out.
Bethany nods, finally picking up a spoon and beginning to fill her plate.
“Sure, you said they were doing some tests. Has he got IBS or something?”
“No.”
Bethany pauses. I didn’t mean to make that one word sound so heavy, but it comes out hollow and raw.
She slowly lowers the spoon. “Okay,” she whispers. “So what did they find?”
The tears I have been fighting since the doctor gave me the news surge back, and I’m powerless to prevent them. My friend’s worried stare is enough to open the floodgates, and saying it aloud is even worse.
“Oh my God, Liss, what is it?” Bethany asks, grabbing my hand.
“He has a tumor.” Bethany sucks in a sharp, horrified breath. “But they’ve caught it early. He has to have his kidney removed.”
“It’s… It’s cancer?” Bethany asks, her eyes glassy, a high color on her cheeks.
I nod, unable to speak, and then Bethany is moving, sliding along the booth and taking me into her arms, hugging me so tightly I can barely breathe. It still isn’t tight enough.
“Babe, I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I can’t fucking believe this.”
Eventually, she lets me go, meeting my eyes with her dark brown, earnest gaze. “Listen to me, this is going to be okay.”
“I can’t afford the surgery,” I say breathlessly.
“But, you have health insurance,” she says, frowning at me.
I shake my head. “It’s tied to James’s work; nothing is in my name. I even considered calling him to ask for the money—”
“Fuck that. I’ll pay for it,” she snaps, her tone dark and angry.
“No.”