Page 39 of My Heart Still Beats
I grab Rita and pull her into my lap, cuddling her.
“Rita, Rita,” I say to her. “The little dog who saved me.”
After I was drugged and date raped by Garrett Ramirez, I was in such a depression that the only thing that got me out of bed in the morning was Rita. She had to go out, and I certainly didn’t want a dogshit-infested apartment.
My mother stayed with me for the first week after it happened and then came by once a week. She would’ve moved in with me, but it wouldn’t have worked. I only have one bedroom, and my couch doesn’t roll out. Besides, I love her dearly, but she’s a devout Catholic and would’ve been praying over me every second.
Not that I can’t use the prayers. I need all the help I can get these days. My mother means well. She truly does.
But I need more than prayers, that’s for certain.
As for what it is I need?
I wish I knew.
My stomach lets out a growl. Rita scrambles off my lap as I rise and go to the freezer. No ice cream. No bacon in the fridge.
Neither sounds good to me, anyway. I’m ready for real food again. I loved the burger and oysters I had with Ben, and now…
Now I want some of my mom’s Mexican fare. Some gooey cheese enchiladas and refried beans with rice and pico de gallo.
Man, it actually sounds good! Am I getting excited aboutfood? Yes, I am, and realizing that excites me even more. I’m actuallyexcitedabout something.
My mother gave me all her recipes years ago, but I never bothered trying to make any of them. Whenever I needed a fix, I just went home and got the real thing. It’s nearly nine p.m., way too late to expect Mom to whip up a batch of enchiladas for me, and also too late to go out shopping for what I need.
But maybe…
Actually wanting to eat something decent and wanting to learn how to make it for myself?
Maybe it’s a start.
Chapter Ten
Ben
I still get a thrill when I travel on the company private jet.
Braden and I had a very modest beginning to our lives. After the fire that scarred our mother, things were so tight that we had to get food from a food bank.
We’re truly living the American dream now, and it’s all thanks to my brother’s genius. He brought my father and me along for the ride, and I’ll be forever grateful.
Not that I don’t pull my weight.
I’m the chief operating officer of the company, so I’m responsible for the business end. I keep the trains running on time.
I do a damned good job if I do say so myself.
Braden’s the creative genius behind our signature product, plexiglass goggles for construction workers. But our business has gone so far beyond construction equipment. We have investments in real estate, precious metals, foreign currency—and just about everything else.
We’ve had this jet for several years now. It’s a Boeing 737 with reclined seating and a bedroom in the back.
No one will be using the bedroom for this trip, though, because along with Braden, Skye, Tessa, and myself, we also have Skye’s three bridesmaids, Braden’s three groomsmen, and our father, Bobby Black.
Once we take off, our flight attendants, Glory and Marissa, distribute champagne—Dom Perignon, of course—and it’s up to me to make a toast.
“Welcome to Black Inc. Airlines,” I say jovially, holding up my glass. “Let me be the first to toast my big brother and the love of his life, Skye. We’re here to celebrate the two of you this weekend, and I know that you’re going to love what Tessa and I have planned. The big bachelor and bachelorette gigs will be tomorrow night, and then we’ll all be together Saturday night for a large dinner and the prelude to the impending wedding. So here’s to Skye and Braden!”
Everyone raises their glass and cheers.
