Maya's Wish (Wish Series Book 2)

by Kay Harris

  He knew Maya had in fact seen it when he saw her final text. FU Everett. Don’t ever contact me again. And that had been it. Over. Finished.

  That is until she walked into his factory and asked for a job.

  ****

  Three years ago…

  Maya took one last look at her cell phone. Somehow rereading the news story about how Everett’s fiancée had taken off with his best friend, leaving his heart broken and his thriving company’s profits in question, made her feel like he did not lead as charmed a life as she had once believed. It made swallowing her pride just a touch easier. What she was about to do was humiliating enough.

  “Ms. McDonald.” A slim woman in a pair of crisp white pants and an orange blouse stepped into the small waiting room holding a tablet and wearing a massive fake smile.

  Maya stood quickly, spilling her purse onto the floor. She fumbled to grab the worn leather bag and shove all the contents back into it. Fearing the woman would leave, she turned her head up while still bent over. “That’s me. I’m coming…I just need…”

  “Take your time,” Miss cool-as-a-cucumber said through her toothy grin.

  Maya gathered her shit as quickly as she could and tried to regain her composure by walking tall, her mother’s old navy heels clicking on the laminate floor as she made her way over.

  Maya managed to greet the woman, shake hands, and follow her into a small conference room without further incident. Once she was seated across from the woman, who’d introduced herself as Olivia, she threw the offending purse under her chair and folded her hands on the polished oval tabletop.

  Olivia glanced down at her tablet, giving Maya a chance to shift in her seat and attempt to find some level of comfort. By the time Olivia looked up again, Maya had plastered her own false grin on her face.

  “I’m wondering why you’re interested in this job, Maya. Your resume is a little more on the…creative side.” Olivia bit her lip and glanced away as if she’d offended Maya.

  “Since getting my degree in Fine Arts, I’ve mostly worked at art galleries, reception, sales, that kind of thing. But I don’t think it precludes me from a job on the factory floor,” Maya argued.

  “But why are you applying for a factory job instead of an office job? We have a human resources assistant position available.”

  “The factory floor pays better.”

  Olivia’s blue eyes widened to the size of salad plates. “Um…uh.”

  “You okay?” Maya leaned toward her.

  “Yeah. It’s just that…no one is ever so blunt about it.”

  “It’s true though, right? The job has less prestige but more take home pay?”

  Olivia nodded. Maya felt a little bad. Being in the HR department herself, Olivia probably only made slightly more than the factory workers she hired, or maybe she even made less. But Maya, quite literally, couldn’t afford to worry about that now.

  “Can I be honest?” Maya pierced the woman with her gaze.

  “Please.” Olivia nodded.

  “I don’t want this job, or any other job for that matter. I want to make a living with my art. But I’m living in Richmond, and I need a way to pay the rent and student loans while I wait for my big break. This is one of the best-paying jobs in town that doesn’t require a degree in something other than fine arts and it doesn’t require a commute across the bridge. So that’s why I’m here, asking you for a job.”

  Olivia shifted in her chair. Her forehead wrinkled up. “I hate to be so blunt, but…um…why would I hire you when you’ve told me this? It’s not exactly what we look for in a future employee, you know. And you need to get past me before you can interview with Kelly, the head of Production. Even if I did send you on to her…well…she won’t like this.”

  This was the part where Maya had to sell her soul to the devil. But the art studio she’d just rented and the insurance she would need to pay for made this whole thing necessary. She took a deep breath and reached for her purse. She sat back and wrestled the beast onto her lap. The sound of the zipper being pulled open on the small outer compartment was like the sound of her pride dying. She reached in and grabbed the only thing that currently resided in that tiny pocket.

  The feel of the expensive paper between her fingers was almost too much for her. But Maya persisted. She yanked the thing out and tossed it on the table as if it would burn her.

  The offending square of paper was wrinkled and abused. It had arrived in the mail a few days after she’d sent a particularly angry text message to Everett four years before. She’d almost ripped it up as she did the note that came with it. Instead, she’d hung on to the thing for a rainy day.

  This was that rainy day.

  Olivia reached out and took the business card, sliding it across the slick surface and looking down to scrutinize it. There was an audible gasp. It almost made Maya break into a real smile. Rarely in her life had she been in possession of such a powerful object.

  “I suppose…I guess this means…” Olivia looked back up, her face red as she stuttered.

  “That I got the job?”

  Olivia swallowed and handed the card back to Maya. “I will send your resume along to Kelly. If you want to go back in the other room and sit down, I’ll see if I can get you an appointment right now.”

  Maya glanced down at the card. Before shoving it back in her purse, she reread the words scrawled in pen in the blank space beneath Everett’s name and phone number. Give the card bearer anything she needs.

  NOVEMBER

  Chapter 3

  “So…I guess you have a type.” Julia’s eyes trailed to Maya’s date, Brian, as he walked away from their small table toward the bar.

  Maya pretended not to know what she meant. “What about James there, Julia? Is he a date or something else?”

  Julia slapped her friend playfully on the arm. “You’re changing the subject. That man looks exactly like—”

  “You’re the one changing the subject,” Maya protested. “That man.” She pointed at the handsome, if slightly short, airline pilot who was beside the bar with Brian trying to flag down the bartender. “Is not a ‘date,’ he’s a baby-daddy candidate.”

  Julia clapped a hand over Maya’s mouth. “Shhh. Jesus.”

  She pulled her hand back and Maya smirked. “I’m right.”

  Julia’s birthday wish, to be a mother, was apparently going to be fulfilled by a sperm donor. And Julia had revealed that she was using a matching service to find the right father for her child.

  “Yes,” Julia admitted. “And I wanted backup when I met him.”

  “So that’s the purpose behind this double date rouse? You could have just told me.”

  Julia shrugged. “I was a little embarrassed.”

  “So, is this like the agency sent him out to meet you and see if you’re interested in his sperm?”

  Julia rolled her eyes and slapped Maya’s arm again. “You’re impossible. And you are clearly avoiding the fact that your date looks just like—”

  This time it was Maya who slapped Julia to get her to shut up as Brian turned around, a drink in each hand, and headed back toward their crowded corner of the bar, James right behind him with two more drinks in hand.

  Maya could not deny that Julia’s observation was accurate. The tall, built man with dark skin and strong features she’d picked up last week at a museum reception had a striking resemblance to their boss. She hadn’t given it too much thought when she’d first approached Brian. She’d just been inherently attracted to him. But now she saw the painful truth. She had a type, and that type looked exactly like Everett fucking Evans.

  This was her first date with Brian since they’d exchanged contact information. And Maya had a feeling it would be the last.

  Two hours later, both women were huddled in the back of a ride share on their way home. Heads together, they discussed their dates. Brian was incredibly smart but not at all funny. James was sweet but not at all charming.

  When they reached Ju
lia’s house, Maya decided to join her for another drink rather than continue on home. They settled into the living room, thankful that Friday night gave them the freedom to share a blender of margaritas.

  Julia snuggled into the couch, a drink in her hand. “Okay. Truth. Here it is. I am working with a matchmaker.”

  Maya settled herself farther into the leather couch as well, wedging her butt between the arm and the ample cushions. “So, like, to find you a date, the old fashioned way?”

  “No. To find me a sperm donor, the old fashioned way.”

  Maya cocked her head. “I don’t follow.”

  “So I’m getting artificial insemination, right?”

  Maya nodded, taking another sip of the bright green drink and licking the salt off her top lip.

  “Well,” Julia leaned back against the arm opposite Maya and angled toward her. “When you use a sperm donor from a sperm bank, you don’t know the person. I mean, you know their medical background, but not them, you know? So this company, they have the same medical screening for their sperm donors, but you also get to meet the donor, get to know them. So you can pick the one you want to use.”

  “So, you’re screening your sperm?”

  Julia laughed and put one hand on her forehead. “Yeah. I guess I am. Man, it sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it?”

  “No. It sounds smart, actually. I mean, who wants to have a kid whose biological dad is a dick, right?”

  Julia smiled. “Thanks for understanding, Maya. To be honest, I’ve been a little leery about telling people.”

  “I’m glad you feel like you can trust me.”

  Maya and Julia had grown closer since their birthday a couple months ago. Whereas they’d just been acquaintances that got together once a year before, now Maya considered Julia to be her friend. The fuzzy feeling, combined with the multiple drinks at the bar and the margarita in her hand was making her want to open up.

  “I have something to tell you.” Maya leaned forward and set her drink on the glass and metal coffee table that sat in front of the couch. “Something I want to get off my chest.”

  Julia set her own glass down and leaned in, hands clasped in her lap, eyes wide. “Is it about Everett?”

  “Yes. There was something between us once.”

  ****

  Seven years ago…

  Maya looked across the room at the most gorgeous specimen of man she’d ever seen in real life. He was probably half a dozen inches above six feet, with broad shoulders, biceps that strained his white dress shirt, and a butt that filled out his gray slacks the way her hand filled out a supple leather glove.

  He turned and caught her staring. Rather than blush the deepest shade of red her olive skin could manage and fleeing to the other side of the room, she took a deep breath and channeled her brother, Mica.

  Mica happened to be standing right beside her, watching the entire scene. “Swagger, sister,” he said in her ear before shoving her toward the hottie standing in front of her largest oil painting.

  She put one foot in front of the other and sauntered toward him, just like she’d seen her confident brother do to many men in the past. The mystery man’s gaze stayed locked on Maya as she made her way toward him. His dark eyes, framed by long black lashes, sat above high cheekbones, below which the most perfect dimples flashed when his full lips turned up into a playboy grin.

  “You like my painting?” Maya managed to control the shaking in her voice as she delivered the line in a sultry tone.

  He looked back at the artist info plaque that hung beside the artwork for a moment, then turned back to her. “If you’re Maya McDonald, then yes. I like all of your work. I’m attracted to the colors.”

  Only one of Maya’s art teachers had ever fully hated the bright colors she used in her landscapes. But a lot of her fellow students had criticized it many times over. She, however, had not relented. And it had become a signature of her paintings.

  She smiled at him. “Me, too.”

  “I’m Everett, by the way, Everett Evans.” He held out his hand.

  Maya placed her hand in his. Long fingers wrapped around hers. His palm was soft, unlike her calloused one. It matched the dress clothing. This man was no artist. “Alliteration. Nice.”

  He chuckled. “You, too. It’s like we’re both out of a comic book.”

  Maya laughed, maybe a little too hard. Her snort echoed through the gallery space, making her cheeks heat. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry. I’m not good at just talking to people. I need a drink.”

  Everett grinned and turned around. He took a few steps away from her, and for a second Maya thought he was leaving. Panic bubbled up, and she twisted on her heel to find Mica. He was standing in the same location, watching her. He raised a brow and nodded his head.

  Whirling back around, she nearly ran into Everett as he returned holding two glasses of wine. He held one plastic cup toward her. “I’ve discovered that the red is the better of the two boxed wine choices this evening.”

  “Thank you.” She took the glass and immediately drained half of it.

  “So…You don’t usually just walk up to men, looking amazing by the way.” He looked her up and down, taking in her best dress and borrowed heels. “And strike up a conversation?”

  Maya gulped and shook her head.

  “What made you decide to do it tonight?” He raised an eyebrow, then quickly lowered it. “Not that I’m complaining. Because I’m definitely not complaining.”

  Maya gestured toward her brother with the cup in her hand, nearly spilling the remaining wine all over the floor. “My twin brother, Mica. He put me up to it.”

  Mica waved as they both turned to look at him across the room. Then he stuck up his thumb and winked. Everett laughed. Maya groaned.

  “Twins. Love it. And more alliteration.”

  Maya nodded. “My parents are giant dorks.”

  “Middle name?”

  She looked at him with curiosity. “Um…mine is Helen, which is my mom’s name and Mica’s is Bertrand, which is my dad’s name. Why?”

  “Then my parents have you beat. My full name is Everett Ethan Evans Jr.”

  “Wow…though, since you’re a junior, really it’s your grandparents who are…”

  “Nuts?” he suggested.

  Maya chuckled. “Yeah. Sorry.” She grasped for a new subject. “So, um. I know you’re not in the Fine Arts program. Do you have a friend in the show?”

  “I’m an MBA student at Stanford. My girlfriend brought me here. She has a friend in the show.”

  Maya nearly choked on her tongue. Heat rose again from her chin to her forehead. “Oh..um...I’m sorry…you have a girlfriend…I…”

  Everett reached out his hand and placed it on her shoulder. “Don’t be. Turns out the friend in the show, Harry James, you know him?”

  Maya nodded, careful not to dislodge his warm hand from where it rested against the thin material of her dress.

  “He’s apparently more than a friend. After getting caught making out near the bathrooms, they took off somewhere.”

  Maya slammed her hand against her mouth. “Oh my God!” She slid her hand down to her chin as Everett’s moved off her shoulder and back to his side. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “I have wine.” He raised his glass. “And the company of a beautiful artist. I’ll live.” Despite his smile, his deep brown eyes reflected a sadness that must have been consuming him.

  Maya swallowed back her humiliation and focused on the heartbreak of the beautiful man in front of her. “How can I help?”

  ****

  “What’s going on?” Maya placed the cheesecake she’d made on the counter in her parents’ kitchen and stared at her mother.

  When she’d arrived, she expected to find her father and brother in the back yard. Barbequing the turkey was a tradition that went back decades in the McDonald family, and Maya had come to believe there was no other way to make it. But on this Thanksgiving afternoon the men were nowhere to be f
ound, and her mother was in the kitchen packing up bags of food.

  Henny McDonald looked up at her daughter with a pair of eyes that mirrored her own and tilted her head. The curly salt and pepper hair that perched atop it flopped to one side, covering one bright green eye. “Didn’t I tell you, dear?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “We’re not having Thanksgiving at home this year. We’re going to Trudy’s.” She picked up a small plastic container and placed it on top of whatever other items she’d stacked in a recyclable bag with a picture of a polar bear on it.

  Maya’s shock came out in the usual way, crudely. “Who the hell is Trudy?”

  “Your father and I adopted her.” She said this as if it weren’t the most bizarre thing for a fifty-five year old woman to say to her grown-ass daughter.

  “Again, what?”

  Henny sighed and pushed the bag to the side so she could see Maya better. “Didn’t I tell you about all this?”

  “No!”

  Maya was getting worked up, but her mother’s calm reaction was the same as it had always been. She rounded the black and white tiled counter and placed gentle hands on Maya’s shoulders. Standing several inches shorter didn’t prevent Henny from nearly knocking her daughter off her feet as she pulled Maya over to the nearest chair. It was a wooden spindly affair in the corner of the room near the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. “Now don’t get excited,” she said in her most soothing voice.

  “Mom. I’m not excited.” Maya worked to even her tone. “But I talked to you just yesterday and you didn’t say a thing about not having Thanksgiving here.”

  “Sorry. I thought I told you the whole thing about the Adopt-a-Senior program.” Henny looked up at the ceiling and bit her lip. “It must have been your brother I told.”

  Maya rolled her eyes. Telling one twin something and being convinced she’d actually told the other twin was pretty typical of her mother. Maya’s shoulders fell and her muscles began to unclench. This was clearly some charity thing. That she could handle. “So tell me about it.”

  Henny leaned toward Maya, her hands grasping her daughter’s, her eyes alight with excitement. “Me and a few other ladies at the hospital started it. It was actually Gerty’s idea.” Henny’s mouth turned down at the mention of the former head nurse who’d recently had to take a medical retirement due to some serious back issues. “So Diane and I and a couple of the volunteers got together and made it a reality. The concept is that a person, or a couple, adopts a senior, usually a widow or widower, but it could also be someone who’s always been single or whatever. Anyway, they have dinner with them at least once a week, help with shopping or yard work, or whatever. We’ve only been doing it for…” she looked up at the ceiling, took one hand back from Maya and popped her fingers out of her fist one at a time until her hand was fully splayed. “Five months now. And we’ve already got a list of fifty-six seniors who want to be adopted and we’ve paired thirty-six with adopters. Isn’t that great!”