Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
I can’t say I was surprised when I saw them come into the dealership today for our grand reopening, but I was shocked when Annie marched up to me with her little boy on her hip and announced they were buying her van today and that they didn’t want another test drive. I’m proud of her for taking control and love that, even though her husband doesn’t like it, he’s still here.
Maybe he knows the old saying “Happy wife, happy life.”
“I’m so excited.” Annie grins, handing me back the paperwork once she’s completed it.
“I’m excited for you.” I smile, resting my hand on my desk phone. “If you’re ready, I’m going to call Judy to make sure she’s ready for you in her office.”
“We’re ready.” Annie nods while Sam sighs.
Ignoring him with my smile still in place, I press 7, and when Judy answers, I confirm with her that she’s free. I walk Annie, Sam, and the kids back to her office and leave Annie with a hug and Sam with a pat on his stiff shoulder as their girls run circles around us. Knowing they’re in good hands, I head back to my desk to wait for Mandy to let me know when I have a client.
Unlike what I watched in movies, we don’t aggressively pursue potential clients; we work on rotation. I know some of the employees don’t like it, but I do. I don’t want to feel like I have to be overly assertive with the people coming in, just to get a sale. As I wait, I grab my cell and find a text from my mom waiting for me.
Mom: How are my girls?
Me: We’re fine, just missing you. I hope you can come visit soon.
I press Send, thinking it’s so strange how time seems to change your perspective. Growing up, my mother placed me and Cece smack-dab in the middle of hers and my dad’s problems, using us as a sounding board and pawns when needed. At the age of nine, the same age as Kate and Lola, I knew my father cheated, knew how many times, and with who, and Cece knew even more than I did. She was fourteen at the time, and my mom leaned on her for emotional support, thinking of her as a best friend instead of her child she should’ve been protecting. Because of that, my mom’s and my relationship was strained, and I resented her for not being strong enough to leave my dad, even after he kept doing things that were making her unhappy.
It wasn’t until I was older that I understood she would have left if she could’ve, but she was financially dependent on him and afraid of what life might be like without him in the picture. When my dad asked my mom for a divorce so he could marry another woman, she didn’t have a choice but to face life head-on. She moved us into a small two-bedroom apartment, got a job as a secretary at a law firm in our town, and after a year, she started dating Chaz, her now husband.
That’s when things changed for us. Chaz gave her someone else to share her pain with while she figured out how to be happy and trust again. Things at the beginning of their relationship weren’t easy for me or Cece. It took a long time for us to figure out we could trust the man my mom was falling in love with, while dealing with the loss of our father, who was starting a new life that didn’t involve the two girls he already created.
Although I can still acutely remember the pain I felt during that time in my life, I don’t wish things turned out differently. My mom grew and became a better mother, and Chaz showed me with understanding, love, and support what I should expect from any man I get involved with.
Thinking about my stepdad, I send him a quick I love you text. I don’t speak to my biological father—not because I haven’t tried to have a relationship with him, but because he’s a self-centered asshole who only cares about himself.
Okay, so I might still hold a little resentment toward my father, but I figure that’s normal, given what I went through as a kid.
“Mia speaking,” I answer my desk phone when it rings and drop my cell back in my bag.
“You have a client,” Mandy snaps, then before I even have a chance to thank her, she hangs up. I’m not surprised by her shortness. It’s been crazy today, crazier than normal. It seems everyone was waiting for us to reopen, and I’m sure she’s been on her heels all day instead of lounging like she normally does.
I stand and straighten out my cream blouse and smooth my hands down the front of my high-waisted navy-blue slacks. Ken doesn’t care what we wear to work, but the guys who work here dress in slacks and button-downs, and the other women dress up, so I always try to appear as put together as them, hoping customers will take me a little more seriously.