Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“What do you want us to do about this woman? It’s been almost two months, I don’t think we can hold her any longer without giving her, that phone call.”
“It’s fine, let her have her call.”
Not that it would do her any good. I’d already put a retainer on the more reputable attorneys in the area so she was going to have a hard time finding one to take her case.
She can’t make long distance calls and her phone has been reset to company settings. I happen to know she doesn’t remember numbers so they’re all in contacts, which are now lost. I had one more issue to deal with there as well, after seeing the pictures of her injuries, but that’s something to worry about another time.
JOLENE
I walked around the room, looking at the little gold name plaques that were on everything.
Damian, Dominic, Dane, Duncan, Davian, Darian Dabria. Their cribs, their wardrobes, toy chests, everything had their individual name on it, even their clothes. Who the hell had time for all that mess? Their dad.
He's fucking anal retentive, and I’m about to lose my shit. I have to look at their little bracelets to tell who is who; he looks at their faces, and nine times outta ten, he gets it right. His daughter is going to give the biggest diva in the world a run for her money because she’s got attitude already, and her little ass can’t speak.
Her dad gets very offended if her shit isn’t gender appropriate. For a man who kicked up a stink about not wanting daughters, I think he must have a brain tumor or something because he’s made a complete one-eighty.
I keep telling him we no longer live in those times, but his catchphrase these days is, I don’t give a fuck. If it’s not pink, frilly, or has some frou-frou shit on it, she can’t wear it. We tested him once and put her in one of her brother’s outfits and he took one look, didn’t say a word, but took her upstairs to change her into one of her little dresses.
He tries to do the same shit with Savanna, and I stay out of it because she encourages his mess. She’s a girly girl until it comes time to kick some ass. According to her, if her bonus dad wants to spoil her with jewelry who is she to complain?
He's been walking around here like a bear with its paw caught because of his father. Now, I don’t know how I got this lucky, but because Dalton gave me a beach house, Dennis thought it only fair that he gave me a chateau in Aspen as a thank-you for giving him and his wife seven grandkids at once. I’ve never skied a day in my life, but the kids love the idea.
I stay out of their arguments because I don’t understand this kind of largesse. A nice necklace would’ve sufficed, but I’m surrounded by nuts. Since we didn’t need another house, Damon’s idea was to get me Liz Taylor’s diamond and emerald Bulgari necklace and earrings. When I saw the price, I almost flatlined.
“You need to stop.”
“What did I do?”
“What’s all this?” I looked over at the mess he had delivered.
“I noticed that the boys don’t let Dabria play with theirs, so I got her one.”
“Damon, sweetheart, that’s a lie. None of them are old enough to get on those rocking horses. Tell the truth.”
“Isn’t it cute?”
“Why does she need a crystal-studded rocking horse that she’d probably only use a handful of times?”
“Those aren’t crystals.”
“You….”
“You just need something to bitch about, right? Your life too easy? Here.” He gave me the big ass bag. I didn’t see him drop on the floor because I was busy pumping like Elsie.
“What’s this?”
“Open it when you’re done. I’m gonna go see the babies after I wash up.”
My kids used to roll around in mud from sun up till sundown. His precious babies change clothes at least three times a day. He has the staff well trained because the one time I tried to tell them they didn’t have to change my son after a little spit-up, the lady acted like I put her in front of a firing squad.
Once I got the hang of how Mussolini ran his ship, I learned to keep out of the way. Damon would fire these poor people at the drop of a hat. If they sleep on the job, he’s understanding, especially if one is filling in for another, because he knows first-hand how tired they can get. But let someone yell at one of his kids, and it’s a quick exit. Wait until he starts doing some yelling of his own.
When the girls come over, we no longer have to find something to watch. I’ve got recordings, what I call Damon’s greatest hits, of the shit he does between the last time they were here and now. It’s better than any comedy show in existence, that’s for damn sure.