Thank you for taking the time to read Bereft, the second book in the seven year itch series. It is a stand-alone. It does include cheating, and is another story based on true events. I hope you enjoy it.
This book is a written act of fiction. Any places, characters, or similarities are purely coincidence. If certain places or characters are referenced it is for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is not allowed to be offered for sale, discounted, or free on any sites not authorized by the author. This book may only be distributed by Jennifer Foor, the owner and Author of this series.
Sharing this book is illegal, and doing so will grant you the guilt of forever being a douchebag to society. Don’t be THAT person everyone hates. Purchase a copy and feel good about your choices.
This book is dedicated to my wonderful husband. While I was writing this story, he suffered a massive heart attack leaving him with a life-threatening condition. I’ve always believed we could make it through anything.
The emotions written in this book reflect some of what it felt like for me to see him suffering. It has been hell. I thank God every single day for saving him.
We will get through this. Have faith and know you’ll always have me, your biggest supporter.
I love you with all of my heart, Timothy Foor.
Beta Readers: Kristy, Kayla, Emma, Amanda, Teresa, Catherine – Thank you tons.
Dani: Without you this book would have been postponed. Thanks for pushing me and keeping me straight. Also, thank you Inkslinger for the love and support for my family. I will forever be grateful.
Chapter 1
Rachel
The mirror doesn’t lie. What I’m seeing really are wrinkles. I have crow’s feet in the corner of my eyes, and when I’m not smiling I swear it appears as if I’m giving someone a resting-bitch face. What happened to my perfectly smooth complexion? Since when did I actually start looking my age? I hated being in my thirties – hated it. Since when did they stop carding me when I went to buy a bottle of wine?
This device my daughter had given me for Christmas made me want to reconsider walking outside at all. Who wants to see every single pore on their skin magnified to one-hundred? I wondered if she was secretly sitting at her dorm laughing, because she knew I was discovering things about myself that were terrifying.
At least I still had long, dark brown flowing hair, good health, and a handsome husband who continued to put up with me. It made it easier to appreciate my youth was now a thing of the past, even though I didn’t consider myself to be old, just halfway there.
Usually mornings were easy for me. I’d get up, brew some fresh coffee for my husband, Grayson and I, and then proceed to get ready for work. From there, I’d drive to the train station, take the ride to D.C., walk six blocks to the office, and finally change into my fashionable pumps. The hustle and bustle of my job had paid off for my family. With my husband and I both working, we were able to pay for our daughter, well his daughter and my step-child, to attend a reputable college. We’d been empty nesters for over a year, and though lonely at times, Grayson and I enjoyed having our weekends to do what we wanted, because during the week we were both too busy, like passing ships in the night.
For nearly thirty years my husband had worked for an international shipping company, the one with the big brown trucks. He’d gone from delivery to upper management. While his positions changed, so did the hours. Where he’d been a six a.m. to three p.m. employee, had now changed to four twelve hour shifts. Each day he’d go in at nine, and he wouldn’t get home until nine that evening, or a little after. I suppose he liked it, though it took me a while to get used to.
Lately, I hadn’t seen much of him. When he was coming in the door, I was already in bed. Conversations were non-existent. While I normally rushed to get ready in the mornings, he was preoccupied with the sport’s network. He would try to wake me up for sex, but I wasn’t interested. Women need beauty rest – me especially.
I should have been happy about being younger than him, like I’d always be the trophy wife to my handsome silver fox. I felt like that’s how he saw me, and us as a couple. We’d met years ago, back when he was going through a divorce. His ex-wife had been crazy – and I mean that in the nicest way possible. She was insane – clinically diagnosed with multiple personality disorder as well as being bi-polar. She’d been in an institution for years before committing suicide. It was a hard adjustment after it happened, testing not only my relationship with Stephanie, but also my commitment to her father.
They mourned, each in their own ways. I watched them fall apart, and did my best to bring them back from their lowest of times. I’d taken over as mother and caregiver for their daughter, without ever considering Grayson’s opinion. She needed a female in her life, and even though I never overstepped, I wanted her to know she had someone there for her.
For me it was different. I bonded with the child immediately, even before the death of her mother. As far as I was concerned, she was my flesh and blood. I’d lay down my life for that girl in a heartbeat if I had to. She’d brought me so much joy in my life when I didn’t even know I was looking for it.
Stephanie was a grown woman now. She was making her own adult decisions, as well as attending college and living on campus. Grayson and I were very proud of our girl.
Once we were married, things got easier. We had routines, and I suppose they worked for us. When you get to our age, mid-thirties for me, late forties for him, you’re too set in your ways to want to change. You do what works to make life easier. So we stuck to our schedules, and spent time together when we could.
I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Just thinking back to a time when we had struggled was hard for me. I liked to think I was the love of Grayson’s life. He’d put me on a pedestal from the moment we met, and I’d never regretted a single second of our life together.
I took the tweezers and plucked a stag hair on my upper lip. I wondered how long it had been there, and if someone had noticed but been too embarrassed to say something. This mirror was making my morning dreadful, and also causing me to question if my husband was keeping things from me – like the stray hairs or large pores.
I suppose I’d been in an all-around bitter mood recently. I hadn’t been sleeping well at night, which was giving me dark circles under my eyes. My doctor said it was stress, and to try to use relaxation techniques. He had no idea what I’d been worried about, and how nothing could keep it from happening. I had tried Yoga, and even meditation, which ended in me laughing at myself so terribly I couldn’t continue.
Thankfully, Grayson never complained about my moods. It wasn’t like they were taking away from our magnificent sex life, or lack there of. If we screwed around once a month it was considered frequent. It wasn’t because I’d lost interest in my husband. He was gorgeous, and somehow getting sexier with age. I envied the way his skin stayed firm, and how he was constantly on the go.
When I got home at night, I wanted to kick back in pajama pants and relax while he got into projects, like painting, or jogging on the treadmill. He never seemed tired, like an energizer bunny with unlimited batteries. I read in bed until I fell asleep, most of the time having a Kindle hit me in the face when my lids closed before I could tuck it away.
Anyway, back to the reason for me being bitter. I’d received an email regarding a possible downsize. Employees weren’t supposed to know about the owner’s health taking a turn for the worst. The eighty year old man had battled cancer twice, and if you asked me, his bo
dy was tired of the struggle.
With that being said, everyone knew his grandson, Chad would eventually take over the company. His plans for a new future involved a ton of outsourcing. In fact, there were rumors he wanted to do away with the office and work off a remote server with minimal need for most of the people who worked there.
This would be the day where many of my co-workers discovered they’d lost their positions. I wasn’t too concerned about mine. I’d been there since I was nineteen, and gained a repertoire with the family. There was no way they’d kick me to the curb without prior notification. Aside from my husband, the owner was someone who cared for me. It wasn’t in a romantic way. I’d like to think he considered me a daughter. His Christmas gifts were always lavish, and I’d been invited to attend family events for years.
His grandson, on the other hand, was a little prick. Sure, he had a body that wouldn’t quit. It was obvious he spent most of his time at the gym, possibly beefing up with illegal injections of God only knows what. His eyes, a hazel in color, were constantly staring me down, and making me feel uncomfortable. He was like a dog on the prowl, and I was just a MILF, someone he fantasized fucking over his desk just to brag that it happened. Every week he’d storm into the office like he owned the place with a new bimbo attached to his hip. It made me want to gag, while his grandfather stated he was on his way to becoming a successful man, whatever that implied. Even though he’d attended college, I found him uneducated, or for a lack of better terms, worthless. If he was the last man on earth I still wouldn’t stoop to his level, not even blindfolded, or blind in general. I was positive his brain was located at the tip of his penis, deprived of air, and suffocating in whoever he was nailing at the time.
Yeah, you could say I was resentful. Maybe a little.
Some of us have to work our asses off, while others are handed the silver cup. Life isn’t fair, but us peons have to make it work.
Though the idea of being one of the only people left to work at his side, I knew I’d bite my tongue and make it productive. Besides, he’d need someone to show him the ropes when his grandfather could no longer manage. I wasn’t hoping for a promotion; I was happy with my salary. I’d worked my way up in the company like everyone else. I didn’t require special attention, especially when I knew it would cause my associates to question why they weren’t being treated the same way. My boss Charles Farrow was a kind soul. He’d developed his company from the bottom up, investing most of his time into creating a reputable business.
Most people wouldn’t understand how hard we worked for our clients, but in personal management, running an agency, nothing was considered too much. We went above and beyond, and carried a reputation to prove it. I was proud to tell people who I worked for and more to the point, which clients we represented.
Major corporations contacted us on a daily basis. I was there when we transitioned from landlines to mobile devices. I’d been an intern when the company went digital with their records. When PowerPoint became a thing, I was the person who taught upper management how to operate the software. My dedication had helped impact our future. We were able to keep up with the changing times, and offer the best degree of services because of it.
I was getting worked up over nothing, yet I couldn’t stop pondering on my achievements, as if I was silently telling myself not to worry. It would have been nice to speak to Grayson about it, but I didn’t want to alarm him for no reason. It was just another day at the office. Besides, I couldn’t even recall the last time we’d had a serious conversation. It made me wonder what I could do to rectify the situation. I missed him – needed him even. He was my other half, my partner in life; it was important he knew what was going on with me. If anyone could calm me down, it was him.
My journey to the office only left me more concerned. I thought about the whispers I’d heard going on; the secret upper management meetings which lasted into the night. Then there were the conference calls where no one was invited except the owner’s grandson.
Right before I was about to step off the train, I heard the alarms sounding. I was too familiar with what it meant. Someone had jumped onto the tracks to commit suicide, or possibly been murdered.
Talk about a Monday from Hell.
The doors remained shut and someone got on the intercom to make us aware of the situation. Luckily, I’d been early enough to score a seat, otherwise I’d be standing, waiting impatiently for emergency crews to arrive to cleanup and secure the area.
I blew a loose strand of hair out of my face, feeling annoyed I’d tied it up and it hadn’t even lasted until I reached work. I thought about my pores, and how big they’d look after I had to haul ass a few blocks to make it to my morning meeting on time.
The longer I sat there waiting, the more I knew I was going to have to make a call into the office. I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts, finally coming to the operator at the front desk. After a few seconds a cheerful voice filled the line. “Good morning, Leviathan Agency, how may I direct your call?”
“Sasha,” I recognized the young blonde’s voice. “It’s me, Rachel. Someone jumped in front of the train this morning. I’m stuck here until they get it cleaned up.”
“Oh no. I’ll go in and tell Chad what’s going on. I think everyone else is here already.”
I sighed and thought about asking him to wait for me, but with twenty some odd people already in attendance, I couldn’t do it. “Just tell them to start without me. I’ll be there when I can.”
“Will do. See ya soon.”
I placed my phone back in my computer bag and looked around. I wasn’t the only person annoyed. There simply was not enough time in the day to have a delay. What calmed me down was thinking about the poor family of the deceased victim. Had they jumped to their death? Were they pushed? Did they owe money? Were they in some kind of trouble with their health? So many factors could have been the reason for this type of incident.
I closed my eyes and thought about my step-daughter. Nearly twenty now, she had a full future ahead of her. She was majoring in Economics with a minor in Art. If it were up to her she’d live in a studio apartment, drawing pictures and selling them on EBay. She was simple. She didn’t fret about the small stuff. Every day she found something to be thankful for. I took pride in raising her that way. She had a kind mannerism, and Grayson and I were often complimented for how she was taught to respect her peers.
I missed her being home, having someone to share meals with, even cuddle with on the couch while watching tear-jerking flicks. Just imagining going home to an empty house made me depressed. Most of my friends were going to be without an income after today. Facing them, saying goodbye, it would hurt my heart. I’d need emotional support.
Eventually we were released from the train and allowed to go about our day. They’d taped off the accident, and had an officer directing traffic to a different exit.
When I finally arrived at the office I was covered in sweat. I looked at my reflection in the glass window and tried to straighten up my hair, while switching my shoes to pumps. I think I made it into the elevator without taking a single breath, and pushed the button to my floor while gasping for air. When the doors opened, I was greeted by a smiling receptionist. “Good morning, Rachel. They’re in the conference room waiting for you.”
I rushed by her, hustling again to make up time. When I opened the double doors I expected to see a bunch of my coworkers sitting around the large teak stained table. Instead, the owner and his grandson, Chad, were the only two remaining. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I ran into trouble on the train.” I took a seat nearest to them and folded my hands together, ready to hear about everyone’s reactions to the bad news.”
“It’s actually good you’re late today, Rachel. It gave us time to take care of some earlier matters.” Charles replied.
“Anything I need to know about?” My inquisitive question was meant to seem like I was oblivious to what had gone on. I knew they’d let a l
ot of people go already.
“I’m sure you were aware something was going down today. As you’ve probably guessed changes are being made with the company. My time here is about to expire, and we’ve,” he pointed to the two of them, “made some decisions that will impact the future.”
His grandson, Chad, took over when he started to struggle with words. I knew he’d be bent out of shape over letting so many good people go. He wasn’t the kind of man who liked hurting others, even if he couldn’t help it. “What my grandfather is trying to say is we’ve decided to close the business, and start a new venture.”
I folded my legs to prevent them from shaking, and prepared to be filled in on how we would be going forward for the rest of us left. “Okay. Will our positions change? Will the new company have some of their own employees?”
Charles, my boss for so many years, leaned forward and clapped his hands together as he struggled with an answer suitable for me to handle. I’d been around him for what seemed like forever, and never in that time had I seen him in such a state. The man looked as if he were about to cry. “Rachel, I’m sorry if you misunderstood. We’re closing the doors on the company, for operational purposes. No positions will remain. I’m not in any condition to carry on, and my predecessor has declined to continue on the path we’re on. He has other plans for our family legacy. It’s best if we close with our good standing, and let a new firm step in. They’ll take over the clientele, and offer the contractual obligations as severance. I know this is a shock.”
I refused to let him keep talking as if this was a good idea. “Shock? You’re sitting here telling me none of us have jobs, and all you can assume is that we’re in shock? Charles, I’ve worked my ass off for those clients. I’ve taken time away from my family for some of those opportunities. I put my career before anything else, and you think it’s okay to sit me down and let me go after all the years I devoted myself to your company?” I stood, because I simply wasn’t able to sit there with his good-for-nothing grandson smiling back at me. I pointed to the man I’d always admired. “This isn’t you. It’s him. You’re a good man. You’d never do this to the people you care about – to the clients who trusted their name with you.”
Bereft Page 1
