Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

DAYRA

The incessant tapping of the keys on my keyboard is about to drive me insane. Now that Halloween is over and we’re almost to Thanksgiving, my joy meter is steadily rising. The closer we get to eggnog and Christmas music, the happier my little soul is. I’m ready for this workday to be over with. I technically only have one boss, but there are two CEOs of the company here and one of them hates me. And I hate him. He’s been a thorn in my side since the first day I started here.

No matter what I’ve done in the two years I’ve been here, it’s been wrong. When I started out as the receptionist, the coffee was wrong. When I moved up to data entry, that was wrong too. Now that I’m in media marketing, everything I do in this position is wrong. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, has been right if it were done at my hands. I don’t know what I did to this man, but he makes my blood boil and infuriates me to no end.

Zane Moore, also known as the THD—Tall Hateful Devil—goes out of his way to make my life miserable at any given opportunity. And rest assured, he never misses an opportunity. For instance, we have a meeting this evening at four o’clock. Wednesday evening. The Wednesday before Thanksgiving. The Wednesday that every other office in the city is closing early. I roll my eyes at the thought.

I shut my computer down for the day and gather my paperwork for this meeting that Zane just had to have done today. He wants to go over a project that our guys won’t even get to until after the new year. It most definitely could have waited. I sigh, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose. I tap out a text to my best friend, expressing my utmost inconvenience.

Dayra: THD is at it again. Last minute meeting at 4. Why does he have to try and ruin my life every fucking day?

Maia: Because he is THD. And an ass hat. Or maybe a douche canoe? I’m not sure which is more fitting. Just put laxative in his coffee and jet when he runs to the bathroom.

I laugh, loudly, and thank god that I wasn’t taking a sip of my water from my green insulated tumbler that I don’t go anywhere without.

“Is something funny?”

I jump so hard that I drop my tumbler, my phone, and my folder of paperwork, all three hitting the ground together as water drenches all of my papers and my phone.

I huff as I glare at the intruder in my office doorway. Zane.

“Shit!” I scramble to pick up my things and to my surprise, Zane comes over to help. I snatch my phone up first, locking it as I wipe the screen on my black dress. Having a little bit of extra weight around my hips makes for a good squishy spot to wipe the screen clean. Zane picks up the ruined papers and folder, holding them out away from his light gray suit.

He looks like he’s holding a child for the first time and doesn’t know what to do with it. I quickly set my phone down and take the mushy mess from his hands and place it in the trash can underneath my desk.

“I didn’t realize speaking would send you into a spiral, but I guess I should’ve known you couldn’t do more than one thing at a time.”

I stare at him in utter disbelief. “You’re infuriating, you know that?” I ask, slamming my hands across my hips to dry them.

His eyes watch my hands for a moment before his brows furrow.

“Get yourself together. The meeting is about to start and now you have none of your material,” he says sternly, before storming out of my office, leaving me baffled and staring at the door.

I go to storm out of the office after him, forgetting about the spilt water. I take two angry steps before my feet come out from underneath me so fast that I hit the ground hard.

I scream out in agony and tears instantly stream down my face. I try to catch my breath as the pain radiates from my tailbone but I can’t focus on anything other than how badly it hurts.

I hear stomping footsteps and Zane comes into view. I expect him to be angry or to yell, but instead the anger that was plastered across his face moments ago is gone.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

He reaches down to help me up and all I can do is nod.

“I got it,” I whisper, trying not to let my voice break. I don’t have any fight left in me and the last thing I need right now is for this man to humiliate me while I’m down.

“Jesus, Dayra, just take my hand and let me help you.”

I stare up at him and accept his hand, trying to pull myself up the best I can, but it’s no use because he hauls me to my feet as if I’m not as heavy as I know that I am.

“Thanks,” I choke out, placing my hands on my desk and leaning forward, trying to get any pressure that I can off of my backside.

He walks around my desk and presses a finger to my chin, lifting my face until my eyes meet his.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We have insurance, so if you need to go to the hospital or the doctor or whatever…”

I laugh softly through my tears. “I don’t think it’s that serious. I may have broken my tailbone though.”

“Jesus Christ. I was out of the room for five seconds. What the hell happened?”

“I was storming out after you and forgot about the spilled water.”

Zane’s grey eyes linger on mine, unreadable. He smirks and shakes his head.

“I’ll be in the meeting. Go home. Or to the doctor. Send the bill to Odelia. I’ll see you next week.”

I cannot believe my ears. I half expected him to tell me that I needed to rush to the meeting, but I never expected him to send me home.

“I… uhh …okay.” I stutter and stumble without saying much of anything aside from random noises that sound like words.

I grab my phone and shove it in my purse and wait for Zane to exit my office before turning the light off and closing the door. He disappears down the hallway and into the meeting room without another word.

It must be the holidays getting to him because that was almost kindness.

Without thinking too much into it, I walk away and head to my car. I nearly scream as I sit down on my incredibly sore tailbone but manage to maintain a little bit of the pride that I have left. I drive home in the ridiculous amount of holiday traffic but Christmas music on the radio makes it a little bit better.

The constant throbbing in my backside has me questioning whether or not I should go to the hospital, but my pride keeps me home. How comical would the ER staff find it that my overweight self busted my ass so hard that I felt like I needed to see a doctor? The thought of being made fun of alone keeps me from even considering it. Besides, there isn’t much they can do for a bruised ego.

I twist my key into the door of my tiny, two bedroom, one bath home that was built in the nineteen-fifties. The rooms are small, the kitchen isn’t elaborate, and the living room is big enough for the most comfortable couch from two decades ago and a small stand with a tv. It isn’t much, but it’s all mine. It sits on a small piece of property on a heavily traveled highway just outside of the city, but nonetheless, it’s perfect for me and my tiny girl.

I’m greeted by two tiny paws bouncing off of my leg as I walk through the door.

“Reese Piecie!” I greet, picking her up.

She’s so excited she nearly wiggles out of my arms as she tries to lick me half to death. Sweet girl makes any bad day better. I set down my purse and walk through the kitchen to the back door to let her outside for a bit. It’s dark out already, and the temperature is dropping. Chill bumps race down my arms as the wind blows and I shiver while tapping my feet, waiting for Reese to do her business. She finally finds a spot then comes running like a little dark and light brown lightning bolt.

I open the refrigerator and she’s jumping with excitement, bouncing off my legs while she waits not so patiently for her dinner. Opening the container of wet food, I slice through it until it’s small enough for her to eat little pieces of it before I put it in her bowl and head to my room to take off these god forsaken heels and these clothes.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, wincing at the weight on my sore tailbone. I slip my shoes off one at a time, exhaling a sigh of relief as I wiggle my toes. I strip down and pull a pair of shorts and a camisole tank from the chest of drawers at the foot of my bed.

It’s Thanksgiving Eve and although I don’t have any plans, I just want to relax and enjoy the peaceful and quiet evening before I have to deal with my dysfunctional family tomorrow. I flip through the channels, curled underneath my fleece blanket with my Reese Piecie snuggled next to me.

I settle on the Santa Clause movie and sip on a mug of spiked hot chocolate. Bailey’s Irish Cream is the perfect addition to this already creamy and delicious holiday drink. Once my first movie is over, I have a buzz. By the time the second one is over, I’m feeling lit up like the Christmas tree.

I roll over in the bed and sigh, comfortable and buzzed and so sleepy. My eyes lull closed and I drift off into a peaceful sleep.

A loud pounding on my front door jars me awake and I wipe the drool from my mouth as my brain tries to figure out what the hell that sound is. The pounding begins again and I’m not sure if it’s my head pounding or someone actually at my door. Reese starts barking, crawling out from under the comforter with one ear flipped backward and I’m sure that it’s someone outside. It stops for a second then commences yet again, louder and more frantic this time.

I stumble out of bed and stuff my titty that had fallen out while I was asleep back inside of my tank top. I open the front door to find Zane Moore, the tall hateful devil himself, standing on my steps. I’ve got to be dreaming. Or having a nightmare.

“Can I help you?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

His eyes rake over my breasts, nearly spilling out of the top of my tank top. Normally I would never wear something like this in front of my boss, but I didn’t exactly have time to change and didn’t know he of all people would be at my door.

“Do you not have your phone on you?” he asks.

“No. I was sleeping…” I stare at him, incredulously.

Reese is on the back of the couch, trying to poke her head around the door frame to see what’s going on. Quietly huffing in small woofs of frustration. Zane doesn’t seem to notice, though.

“I have been calling you for an hour!”

“Is something wrong? Did something happen in the meeting?”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he opens them, a storm brewing in those ocean blue pools.

“No. I just…I didn’t know if you went to the hospital or not and Mark asked me to make sure you were okay after I told him about the incident earlier.”

“Why didn’t Mark just ask me himself?”

“I don’t know, Dayra. But, clearly you are okay. I apologize for disturbing your slumber.”

He stands there for a beat before he turns on his heel and gets into his truck. His very nice, lifted, silver Chevy. It’s an oddity parked behind my ten-year-old Kia. I watch from my doorstep, petting the top of Reese’s head as he drives away.

Something is wrong somewhere. Is Mercury in the lemonade? I make a mental note to google it tomorrow.

“Come on, sister.”

I walk back to my room and curl up in my bed. I grab my phone from the nightstand and sure enough, there are twelve missed calls and five text messages. It’s one o’clock in the morning. That fact is even more jarring to me because what the fuck was Zane doing at my door at one in the morning?

I don’t even know how he found my house. He has never been here before. He had to have gotten it from HR, and I intend to tell them about this next week. Reese snuggles under the blanket, nestling against my leg. I pat her from on top of the blanket and open my phone to check my texts. They were all from Zane asking if I’m okay and why I’m not answering the phone.

I lock it and set it back on the nightstand, trying to give sleep another try. My head is starting to hurt the longer I’m awake and if I can just get back to sleep, I’ll be so thankful. As if Zane doesn’t torment me enough during the week, he’s now taken it upon himself to try and ruin my evenings and nights? Ugh !

I finally doze off after lying awake for another hour, thoughts of Zane plaguing my brain and making me increasingly more irritated at his absolute entitlement. I sleep for a few more hours and by the time the sun rises, I’m unable to make myself go back to sleep any longer. I get up, against my will, and fix a cup of coffee from my Keurig. Chocolate caramel coffee sits so well in my soul, no matter the season. I can’t get into the peppermint mocha, no matter how hard I try. I’ve never been a peppermint girly.

I sip my coffee in front of the television with Reese curled up in my lap until I’m forced to get myself gathered for Thanksgiving at my aunt’s house. I pull the potato salad I made yesterday morning out of the refrigerator and head out the door, kissing the top of Reese’s head and promising her I’ll be back in a little while. She disapproves but curls on my bed for her mid-morning nap anyway.

Aunt Cindy’s house is a forty-five-minute drive away and I spend all forty-five minutes dreading this holiday. Mom and Dad will be there and so will my brother and his girlfriend along with two of my cousins. It isn’t a big gathering, but it’s what we can manage. Our family cannot get through a single holiday without a mishap, and it’s usually at my expense. I learned a long time ago not to challenge my parents and their lack of adoration toward me coupled with their abundance of adoration for my baby brother. It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted by the time I arrive from all the possible scenarios I’ve already played out in my mind. I do love going to Aunt Cindy and Uncle Ken’s though, because I spent most of my childhood weekends and summers there.

Aunt Cindy and Uncle Ken are outside when I arrive. Aunt Cindy is smoking a cigarette and Uncle Ken is drinking from a rocks glass already. I take a deep breath before I grab the potato salad and get out of my car.

“Dayra! So good to see you, honey!” Aunt Cindy greets, hugging me. She smells like coconut and cigarettes. What a combo.

“You too!”

Uncle Ken holds his arm out for a hug and I squeeze in, hugging him tight.

“Hey, girl.”

“Hey Uncle Ken,” I greet warmly. Uncle Ken, no matter how much he drinks, is always the jolliest human of the family. You can’t help but smile when you see him. He’s tall and broad and just reminds you of a slimmer version of Santa Claus.

He always smells of whiskey and pipe tobacco, my favorite scent in the world. I’ve loved it so much since I was a little girl.

“Your mom and dad are inside,” Aunt Cindy says, dabbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.

“I’m headed in there now.” I grab the door and walk inside of the double-wide mobile home that they’ve lived in for the last twenty years.

Inside, my mom and dad sit on the couch in the living room watching a thanksgiving day parade on the tv.

“Dayra!” My mom chirps when she sees me. I set the potato salad down on the island in the kitchen before I go hug her and dad.

“Hey, baby. It’s been a while,” my dad comments.

“Sorry. I’ve been swamped with work and haven’t been getting out much. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No worries, Dayra. I know you’re busy. We just miss you, that’s all.”

His words bring a soft smile to my face, but I don’t believe the show that he’s putting on one bit. He and my mother have despised me for most of my life. I was never good enough for either of them, no matter how hard I tried. They think that my work is mediocre. That I should’ve gone into a much more upstanding career, like being an attorney or a doctor. One of the mainstream careers that everyone thinks of when they picture success.

I know they love me, in their own way, but I’ve never felt that love. Only heard it in their empty words. My brother, however…

Dallas comes strolling through the door, almost on cue. As if he were summoned. My parents immediately forget that I exist.

“Dallas!” My mom rises from her seat on the couch and meets him nearly at the door to hug him.

“Oh my God, I’ve missed you, my boy!” Mom’s enthusiasm doesn’t go unnoticed by Dallas. He’s always taken pity on me, and even now, at thirty years old, my little brother still feels the need to try and lessen the blow of their rejection of me.

“Missed you too, Ma.” He hugs her back and quickly removes himself to scoop me up in a hug.

“Hey, sis!” He greets, spinning me around. I laugh uncontrollably as he twirls me around then places me back on the ground.

“Hey, Dally.”

He shoots me a glare for a moment at the use of my childhood nickname for him before his girlfriend walks over.

“Dayra, this is Shelly. Shelly, this is my big sister Dayra.”

“So nice to meet you,” I say, pulling her into an awkward hug.

“You too.”

She’s my height, with short brown hair and beautiful pale white skin. Her eyes are a beautiful honey brown and she’s wearing the most adorable light brown dress.

My mom and dad steal the show, talking to both Dallas and Shelly. I quietly ease into the kitchen and fiddle with random things around the counter to occupy myself. Once I’ve rearranged a few things, I take a seat at the dining room table, wincing as I open my phone. I have two text messages.

Maia: Happy Thanksgiving, bestie!

Zane: I’m sorry for showing up at your house last night. That was highly unprofessional and it won’t happen again.

I type out a response to Maia and I stare at Zane’s text for a minute before I come up with what to say to him.

Dayra: It’s no big deal. Thanks for checking on me.

I press send with my stomach in my throat. We don’t interact like this, so this feeling is odd and unwelcome. Within seconds, he reads it. I hold my breath, waiting for his response. But, nothing pops up.

That’s more like it. Now he’s being his usual asshole self. I lock my phone and set it down on the table. I look around and see that my cousin Ashley has arrived with her little boy who’s running around the house like Donnie Thornberry.

I sigh, feeling like an outcast in the presence of my own family. I don’t know why I continue to do these things to myself when I’d rather be anywhere but here. One day, I won’t have to feel unwelcome at the holidays. One day.