“Oh, yes!” Hope Bennett yelled as her lover gyrated his hips harder and faster. She grabbed his sweet bottom, opened her legs a little wider, and pushed him deeper inside. Suddenly she felt her insides tingle and her head felt light. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she met his rhythm and clenched his organ with her muscles. “I’m coming,” she barely whispered in ecstasy as her juices flowed. Hope felt like she was floating on a cloud. Her breathing got heavier as her lover moaned deeply in her ear and blew his hot breath on her cheek. This was even more of a turn on for her. She was getting so close to climax again she could taste it. She didn’t want to come yet but the harder she tried to fight it, the faster it seemed to surface. She sucked in a breath and held it as her head got even lighter. She wished this feeling could last forever, but finally, she had to let it happen. For a second, Hope could have sworn she was having an out out-of-body experience. She shivered as a tiny gasp escaped her lips. At the same time, her lover shuttered shuddered as well. It took her a few seconds to realize that they climaxed together. Her eyes rolled even further back into her head as her body continued to shiver and she continued to float on a cloud. Her lover collapsed in her arms.

     “Goodness, Hope,” Michael Armstrong huffed as he rolled over. His body continued to slightly jerk as he took the condom off. “That was incredible!”

     “Yes, it was,” Hope huffed in agreement as she tried to catch her breath. “I didn’t want it to end. It was the best”. She smiled up at the ceiling and then turned her gaze to his. “I’ve never—I mean—that has never happened to me before,” she said awkwardly.

     “What do you mean?” Mike seemed to be confused.

     Hope rolled onto her side as she explained, “I never climaxed with anyone before—you know—together,” she admitted. “It was amazing”. She beamed.

     “You mean not even with—--,” Mike lifted a brow without finishing his sentence.

     Hope did not need him to finish the sentence. She knew he was referring to her husband. She shook her head “no”.

     Mike smiled and grabbed Hope’s hip as he pulled her closer for a kiss. He seemed to be proud of his accomplishment. As their lips met, Hope closed her eyes, noting how soft his lips were. They felt just like pillows. So much softer than anyone else she had ever known. Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue urging her mouth open. She snapped back to reality and quickly pulled away.

     “Mike, no!”

     He gave her his sad puppy eyes as he smiled sweetly.

     “What?” Mike asked innocently.

     “You know what,” Hope uttered as she rolled her eyes and started to get out of bed. He began to pull her back playfully.

     “Aw come on, Hope,” Mike said as he pulled her by the waist. “It’s not time for you to go yet.”

    “Oh yes it is,” Hope stated as she finally got out of his grasp and headed for the bathroom. She closed and locked the door behind her so Mike could not get in. She knew if he had the chance, he would keep her here all day. She didn’t want to leave, but it would be for the best. She noticed the time they were spending together was increasing, which could be very dangerous. She started seeing Mike over a year ago and had trouble getting away from him ever since. She thought about the day she met him as she sat on the toilet. About a year ago, Hope joined the gym near her job and signed up for a personal trainer. She never expected to feel the way she felt when she first saw him. It seemed that once she was married, it was difficult to take notice of any man other than her husband. However, she couldn’t help but notice Mike’s lean physique and handsome smile as he shook her hand to introduce himself. She also noticed that her breasts tingled and all of her blood seemed to rush to her groin as she smiled back sweetly. As they started her first session of training, she became intrigued by his level of knowledge and was turned on by his passion about his work.

Hope wiped herself and flushed the toilet. She heard the door knob rattle as she turned on the shower.

     “No,” she yelled as Mike kept rattling the knob.

     “Aw come on, Hope,” Mike pleaded. “I have to use the john.”.

     Hope laughed loud enough for him to hear as she tested the water. She knew good and well he did not want to use the bathroom. Most likely, he was ready for round two. Mike’s little soldier was probably standing at attention waiting for her on the other side of that door. He loved climbing into the shower with her, and she was sure that was what he had in mind. She did not want to prolong her visit today though.

     “Hoooope,” Mike sang her name as he continued trying the door knob.

     “Mike, I am showering alone. Cut it out,” she declared as she climbed in. She had to admit she loved their shower sessions too. Actually, she loved every minute she was with him, which is why she had to get out of here. Mike was supposed to just be a one-night stand, but the sex was amazing and addicting. Neither one of them could stop after just that one night. She remembered it as if it was yesterday. During her fourth training session, Mike’s hands got a little too close to her inner thighs and she shuddered. This was one of her “hot” spots that had not been touched in a very long time. She looked at him with longing and saw hunger in his eyes too. She quickly made her way to the locker room and gathered her things but he followed her out the door.

     “Hope, you still have a half hour of your session to go,” Mike called as she walked toward her car.

     She stopped and turned, . “I want you so bad and your touch drives me crazy, but I’m married,” she announced. “I can’t.”.

     Mike frowned as he continued toward her. “I know,” he conceded as he grabbed her left hand and looked down at her ring. She started backing away but he continued to move forward. “I want you too,” he said, as Hope felt her car at the small of her back. He was so close now she could smell his breath and see his heart pumping through his chest. She gulped as she felt his bulge against her belly. The next thing she knew he kissed her on the lips and she ended up at his place. They both agreed it would just be a one-time thing, but here they were a year later. That first night, they had three rounds of sex.

     Hope sighed as she showered off. She could not believe this was her life. She never pictured herself being this woman. Sometimes she did not recognize herself and found it difficult to like herself. She was so happy when she first got married and thought that would never change. However, so much did change since the wedding. One of the things was that she and her husband Claude had not had sex for over a year and a half when she met Mike. At the time, she was sexually frustrated and exhausted from having so many failed attempts. Claude just didn’t seem to have interest and couldn’t keep it up. At some point, they just seemed to give up on the idea completely and the next thing she knew, a year and a half had gone by. Hope turned the shower water off and stepped out to towel off. She heard the television in the bedroom and realized that Mike had finally given up at some point. She opened the door and stepped into the bedroom.

     She didn’t dare look at Mike as she got dressed. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time but avoided eye contact with him as she moved swiftly. She knew he liked to watch her and usually took her time and teased him, but not today. She just had the urge to get out of here fast. She was starting to feel different about Mike and it was scaring her. She was so deep in her thoughts she didn’t realize he was talking to her. He raised his voice as he repeated her name.

     “Huh?” Hope replied as she looked in his general direction.

     Mike frowned. “Are you okay?”

     Hope nodded her head “yes” as she put her earrings in. “Yeah, why? What? Did you say something?” She appeared confused.

     “I was just asking, what’s the rush?” Mike repeated. Hope knew this was coming. They only went two rounds tonight. Three rounds had become their standard twice a week. They used to see each other three times a week, but Hope cut it down to two days several months ago because she felt they were spending too much time together. Hope was not sure why she had this sudden sense of urgency to leave, so she was not sure how to explain it. She kept moving.

     “Sorry, I just need to go,” she stated as she gathered her belongings. “I have to get to the restaurant.” She hoped that would hold up for now.

     “I thought you were off tonight,” Mike argued. He was right, she was off tonight, but she still planned to go in. She had a lot of paperwork to catch up on and preferred to be at the restaurant than here or home at the moment.

     “Yeah, but I have a lot of catching up to do. Paperwork,” she answered as she moved toward the door. She knew eventually she would have to seriously sit down and speak with Mike about stopping this altogether, but she was not sure when she would be able to do that. She did not want to do it at all, but she knew it was inevitable. The affair should have never started to begin with. She walked over to Mike on the bed and swiftly kissed his left cheek. She did her best to ignore his organ starting to rise as she leaned over. “I’ll see you Saturday,” she added as she headed for the door. Mike barely got the chance to say anything before she was gone.

******

     “Dag,” Justine blurted out as she missed the ashtray in her car. It was ironic—she hated the smell of cigarettes, especially in her car, yet she smoked. It was a nasty habit she was not proud of, and she hid from others as much as possible. The habit was not heavy. It usually took her a couple of weeks to get through one pack, but she still wished she could stop. She usually did not smoke in her car or her condo, but today she was in a hurry. She rolled her window down a little more as she hooked a fierce right turn onto the entrance to the Belt Parkway heading east toward Queens. Smoking helped calm her nerves to perform. She made a mental note to vacuum her car and ashtray out as soon as she got back to Brooklyn. She glanced at the clock on her dash. It was ten after seven and the party started at eight thirty. She still needed to change into her outfit to perform once she got there so she needed to arrive by eight o’clock. She was on her way to a birthday party to perform for a man who was turning thirty. She was his surprise so it was really important for her to be there to pop out on time. This night was also important to her because this was her first personal gig.

     Her real name is Justine Clarke but she goes by her stage name “Jazz”. The name Jazz makes her feel sexier and freer and brings out a different personality, especially when performing. Jazz is bolder and sassier than Justine ever was or ever could be. Justine is a night club dancer at a gentlemen’s club. She works three nights a week at the club. She also works as an entertainer in one of the high-end cabarets in the city three nights a week and attends New York City College of Technology, also known as, City Tech, full-time during the day. She studies hospitality management and it’s not bad so far, but school was never her favorite. The only reason she’s attending school is because she feels like she has to. Her mother constantly hounds her about having a “real” career and doing something meaningful. The program is only two years, and she’ll get an associate degree at the end. Justine is doing her best to keep her grades up and pay attention so she can do well and get a good job. She chose the major because she thought it sounded easy, only to quickly find out it would not be easy at all. She liked the layout of the program, but was eager to have more hands-on and less classroom time. It was hard for her to sit still and pay attention during class time. She looked forward to learning more about food and recipes. She enjoyed cooking. Some of the course work was a little more challenging than she expected it to be. It’s not just about cooking and baking. She has to take courses in macroeconomics, public speaking, and safety principles. There are also several clubs and programs they are expected to participate in. It was a lot of work and she often found herself having trouble keeping up with some of it. She even thought about switching her major, but when she looked at all of the other options, nothing else interested her. At least with this program she could look forward to her baking and pastry classes next semester.

     Justine thought about how different things were now compared to how they used to be. Thirteen years ago, Justine attended the University of Pennsylvania to get away from her mother and New York, which was always home. She studied nursing, but she dropped out of school after her sophomore year when she realized just how “personal” care can be at the bedside. The pressure of school got to her so she moved back home until she could figure out what she wanted to do in life. Against her mother’s wishes, she moved out after being home for just six months and ended up renting a room in another part of Brooklyn called Park Slope. At the time, she felt like she needed the space away from her mother, and she was glad she made the choice. She loved the quiet peace surrounding Park Slope, along with the quirky shops and the feel of a true neighborhood. It was so different from Flatbush, and it was what she needed at the time. Her mother was not happy about any of it, but Justine promised her she would get back into school someday and would be safe on her own.  She worked in a grocery store and at a pizzeria to pay her rent until she stumbled upon the cabaret job.  

     Now Justine was renting a condo in the Park Slope and she was settled for the time being. Once her credit cards were caught up, she planned to quit the cabaret job and would consider herself to be even more settled. She plans to eventually quit working at the night club as well, but continues for now because this is where the bulk of her income comes from, which really helps to pay the bills, especially for school. She likes working in the club, but hates working in the cabaret. The night club usually had pleasant men wanting their attention, but the cabaret was full of snobs and jerks. The money is good, but sometimes not worth her time for the way customers would treat her. She gets bored with doing the same things, as the men come in to make the same requests over and over and she really hates when they request private time. Her manager at the cabaret is also a jerk who expects them to give in to every customer demand. One time she refused to go to a private session with a customer she had issues with in the past and the manager threatened to fire her if she had a problem with it. She kept her mouth shut after that but always felt sick to her stomach when the customer returned. He never tipped either. It was more humiliating than what she had to go through with her regular customers at the night club. She is sticking it out at this job because she needs the extra money to pay off the credit card debt she started racking up while in college over thirteen years ago. At least at the club she has fun. She also feels respected by management and she enjoys the men, the great music, and making great tips. Women also came into the club which did not bother her too much. The most they would do was look. One woman actually wanted to touch her breasts, and that wasn’t too big a deal. She likes that she doesn’t have to pretend to be horny at the club, she just needs to be sexy, which comes natural for her. The tips are much better at the club as well, especially if a lap dance is requested. She loves the rush associated with going out to perform, and the energy from the crowd is stimulating. She also likes to see the effect her moves have on the men. She often helps train new ladies coming in on improving their dance moves and techniques.

     Justine swiftly changed into the left lane to get around a slow driver and gunned her gas pedal to the floor to show her frustration. The driver was a middle-aged woman who flashed her the finger as she whizzed by. Justine laughed to herself and kept moving to cut the woman off. At least traffic was not too bad. She could still make it on time.

     Her thoughts went back to work as she thought about how she would like to have more control over her working hours. The cabaret only required her to stay for four hours at a time but the night club insisted she stay until closing, which was two a.m. on the weekends and midnight other nights. This party gig was set up by a friend of hers from the night club and it was paying one hundred fifty dollars an hour so she did not want to screw it up. She was hoping to at least be there for two hours. The time could go by fast if the party was fun and it was a good crowd. If it went well, she thought maybe she could make a business out of it and set up her own hours.

     Justine heard her song coming on the radio so she pumped up the volume and started bopping her head to the beat. Music also helps her get into the mood to work. Music helps her escape the room she is in and visit a safe place in her mind where she is not being ogled by a bunch of horny men. Music was especially helpful when she had to give lap dances. She glanced at the clock on her dash as she switched lanes to get off at the next exit. It was seven thirty. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten dinner yet. Justine reached her right hand into her handbag until she felt the package she was looking for and pulled it out. She ripped the package of natural trail mix open with her teeth as she exited the Belt Parkway and continued to the provided address. Trail mix was in her daily diet. It was unsalted with a mix of nuts, raisins, and dates. She bought a big box of it from BJs Wholesale Club every two weeks. She was away from home a lot, so she did her best to eat as healthy as possible while on the go. Trail mix was one of the things that seemed to help her maintain her weight and energy on a daily basis. She quickly finished the package and drank a long sip from her water bottle. She approached a red light and then reached for a banana laying on the front seat. She felt eyes on her from the right as she peeled back the banana. She glanced at the driver of the Escalade who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. She smiled sweetly at the driver and winked. He smiled back goofily as he watched her raise the banana to her mouth and slide it between her lips slowly and gently. Justine then took off as the light turned green, leaving the Escalade driver with his mouth hanging open as she giggled to herself and bit into her food. She loved flirting, but sometimes it got her into trouble. She made a left turn and watched in her rearview mirror to make sure the Escalade did not follow. She relaxed when she saw the Escalade continue straight on the previous road in her mirror.

     Justine finished her banana and drank more water as she approached her address. It was a quarter to eight, so she made it in good time. “Here we go,” she stated out loud as she took a deep breath and parked behind a sedan in front of the house. She took a few deep breaths as she cut the lights and turned off the engine. She had no idea why she was so nervous. She was used to performing, but maybe it was the idea of being here alone. At the clubs, there were so many other ladies around, between the dancers and the cocktail waitresses, so that helped. Those places were also public. She was now entering a private home. It was kind of scary to think no one else would be performing with her tonight and she was not directly familiar with the people who would be there. She noted three sports cars parked in the driveway. She thought about having another cigarette but, instead, got out of her Toyota, carrying her handbag, and opened her trunk. She jumped as a car whizzed by heading north on the street. “Calm down, girl,” she said to herself as she reached for the bag carrying her knee-high leather boots and closed the trunk door. She held her head high and strutted her stuff toward the front door. She rang the doorbell and just a few seconds later, the door swung open and a tall, handsome, latte-toned gentleman opened the door with an inviting bright smile.

     “You must be Jazz,” he said as he continued to smile and waved her in. Justine felt glued to the stoop for a moment. She found herself speechless and staring. She never stared. She kept telling herself to move but the message from her brain was not making it to her body for some reason. She could feel her own caramel colored skin turning crimson.

     “Please”. The gentleman gestured once again for her to enter the home as he continued to smile. Justine finally found the ability to smile back and stepped up onto the threshold. He held his hand out for her to shake. “You’re right on time. I’m Kenny. Derrick’s brother,” he explained. Justine remembered Derrick was the name of the birthday boy. She nodded in response.

     “Nice to meet you,” Justine offered as she shook his hand. Very nice indeed she thought as she noted his physique and strong grip. He turned and started walking to show her where she could get ready and Justine enjoyed the view from behind as she followed. Suddenly, Justine had a feeling tonight was going to turn out just fine.

     “Here you go,” Kenny offered as they arrived to a small bedroom on the first level. The room was just off the kitchen in the back of the house. She noted as they walked through the house that the living and dining rooms had both been set up with some decorations so she assumed this is where the party would congregate. They were a few guys standing around talking and laughing. Kenny started to give her some specific directions. “I’ll come and get you when we’re ready for you to come out. I’ll come to the kitchen and grab some drinks or something and knock twice to let you know it’s time to enter. There’s a bathroom in here so feel free to use it. Can I get you something to drink?” Justine took a moment to take all of this in. Her heart was beating so fast and she had so many thoughts running through her mind. She was not sure what to expect, but she wasn’t expecting all of this kindness and respect. Her nerves started to ease up a little. She smiled at Kenny. She forgot all about his question. What did he just ask? He raised his eyebrows as she continued to stare.

     “Would you like something to drink?” he asked again. “Water, tea, juice, or something harder?”

     “Harder?” Justine asked. Liquor would be great right now. He turned into the kitchen and went to the stainless-steel wine cooler and opened it up.

     “Let’s see,” he said as he took a look inside. “I have some red wine already chilled. I also have some Corona and Coors in the fridge”. He looked up at her. “Of course, there’s also a full stock of rum, vodka, and such in the living room. What’s your pleasure?” I’ll take you please Justine felt like saying.

     “The red wine please. That sounds great,” Justine answered as she watched him walk across the floor and reach into a cabinet. He found a wine glass and rinsed it out. She admired his physique with every move he made. She kept a close eye on his hands as he poured her wine. They looked so strong and masculine. Something about hands turned her on. She started to feel a little flushed as he moved toward her with the glass. She suddenly felt like a silly school girl as she smiled and thanked him. Her hand shook just a little bit as their skin lightly touched in the exchange. She quickly closed the door and went into the bathroom to freshen up. As she prepared herself to get ready, she hoped the wine would help relax her just a little bit more. She sipped slowly as she looked around the room she was in. There was not much to find in the room, as it appeared to be set up for guests, but it felt cozy. She felt comfortable here. She freshened up in the bathroom and adjusted her make up. She took her time putting on her stripper gear as she let the wine soothe her. She took her time teasing her curls a little more to give her hair a wilder appearance. She could tell it was getting more crowded in the house as she heard the sound of voices and laughter. About an hour later she got her cue from Kenny to come out. She grabbed her boa covered handcuffs and her leather whip and opened the door. This time, it was him who was speechless. Justine smiled sweetly as she stepped out.

     “Showtime,” she purred as she winked and handed him her CD to play. She strutted pass him in her knee-high leather boots making her way to the living room. Kenny quickly followed to watch the show. She approached the entryway to the living room, taking in the small crowd of men. There were about two dozen men in the room standing around chatting and munching on food. Not bad she thought. I can handle this, she said to herself as she took a wide stance and put her left hand on her hip. The wine had definitely taken effect and she was feeling pretty good. She was definitely ready to take over this party. She smacked the wall to her right with her leather whip, commanding attention. “I hear there’s a birthday boy in here!” Kenny ran over to the stereo and put in her CD. She strutted into the room as her favorite tune played. The show began and the men were going wild. The birthday boy was certainly surprised.

******

     “I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise. Just give me another half hour, Jill,” Camille pleaded with her babysitter on the other end of the phone. She glanced at the digital clock on her desk which read seven forty-five. She had no idea it was this late. No wonder Jill had called her again. She knew good and well she would not be home in a half hour because that would mean she would need to leave now, but she was desperate to meet her deadline for tomorrow. She had to finish this file and have her package ready to be picked up first thing in the morning or the client could take their business elsewhere. She had already talked the client into giving them an extension from last week. She tapped her pencil as she waited for Jill’s response. “I’m hungry”. She heard the tiny voice of her seven year old daughter Ashley in the background. It was definitely way past dinner time for the both of them, Camille thought as she heard her own stomach grumble. She also heard a deep breath escape from Jill on the other line.

     “I have so much homework I need to finish, Miss Thompson. I haven’t been able to get much done at all. I—--,” Camille cut her off. She really had to make this deadline or her boss Joe would have her head.

     “Jill I really do appreciate everything you do,” Camille started. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. I’ll give you an extra thirty dollars for this week, just remind me. There’s some fish sticks in the freezer and some potato salad in the fridge left over that Ashley can have. Feel free to help yourself as well. I’ll see you soon”. Camille felt like she said all of that in one breath as she hung up the phone and exhaled. She took another look at the clock on her desk. She’d wasted four minutes on the telephone call. Four minutes she couldn’t get back. Damn it, she thought to herself as she turned her focus back to the computer file on her monitor. She had a little difficulty concentrating on her work now. She was tired, she was hungry, and she was frustrated. And once again, she was the only one left in the office working on a deadline. There were four other people on her team, but for some reason, she was the only one who ever stayed late to get stuff done. It was at the point now where everyone expected it from her. Like she had no life at all. She had no idea what it was like to actually leave the office on time, but she often fantasized about it! Focus. Come on focus, she told herself as she tried to gather her thoughts to finish the proposal. They were pitching a new idea and this was a very important client, so she could not screw this up. Hearing Ashley’s voice while she was at work always threw her off. She felt a lot of guilt for working so many late hours. Every day she was afraid Jill would quit on her. But here it was a year later, a new school year, and Jill was still willing and able. When Jill was first hired, the arrangement was for her to pick up Ashley from school at three o’clock and sit with her at the house until five-thirty when Camille should have been arriving home from work. That has never happened. Most days, Camille does not make it home before seven. Something is always coming up at work. To her luck, Jill does not usually make a fuss about it, but lately the hours have been getting longer and longer. She wondered just how long she had before Jill would walk out the door and not return out of pure frustration.

      She started typing as her thoughts returned. Camille loved her job, but some days she felt as though the amount of stress associated with it was not worth the trouble. She also missed seeing more of her daughter. Everyone on her team knew they had this deadline to make for tomorrow but no one helped her with it all week until today. But as soon as five o’clock rolled around, everyone dispersed from the building. “You’ve got that, right?” her co-worker Susan stated, more than asked, as she headed for the door in her jacket. Camille shook her head as she recalled her response, . “Sure,” she yelled to her co-worker sarcastically as she walked through the door. Camille was certain Susan did not even hear her response. Joe had left at three to meet clients for cocktails and no one else from her team bothered to check on her before heading out the door. At least Susan tried to act like she cared. Joe did pop his head in on his way out to remind her of her deadline though. How thoughtful!

     This place was such a joke. Sometimes Camille felt that she was the only person who cared about anything. Sure, Joe cared about making their deadlines, but he barely lifted a finger to help. He was too busy going out to lunch with the clients, holding meetings with the clients, and sopping up drinks during happy hour with the clients. Clearly, he thought ‘“entertainer”’ was in his job description. Camille was lucky if she could grab him for ten minutes to get his opinion on something. Oftentimes, final drafts went out without his approval. And of course, if the client was unhappy or something went wrong with the final product, it was always her fault. She had many days where she would just cry in the bathroom stall for feeling like she could not do anything right. Joe often threatened to let her go, and there were some days when she wished he would. She knew this job was no good for her health at times, but she could not afford to just quit without a backup plan.

     It was terrible to feel incompetent in her position. She was the Assistant Marketing Director for Landale Advertising, and Joe Lewis who was the Managing Director of the agency. She had been here for four years and things had been this way since day one. She wondered if things would ever change as she began putting together the conclusion of the proposal. She breathed a sigh of relief as she placed her last period on the page to indicate she was finished. Now she just had to proofread and package it up. She glanced at the time again. It was ten after eight. By the time she finished proofreading and got the package together it would be after nine when she got home. She felt horrible about keeping Jill this late. Just as the Microsoft Word program finished its grammar and spell check, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and racked her brain but did not recognize it so she allowed the voicemail to pick up the call. Even though Microsoft completed a grammar and spell check, she read through the proposal one last time to check for any errors. That was her problem. She was such a perfectionist. It was not even something she realized about herself until it was pointed out by her friends in college during her freshman year. She assumed she got it from her mother whom she remembered always had to have things perfect in their home when she was growing up.

     By the time she was satisfied and walking out of the door to the office, it was eight thirty-five. She dropped her package in the FedEx bin next to the receptionist desk on the way out. She ran through everything in her mind once again, hoping she did not miss anything. She was sure to follow the outline, so hopefully nothing was omitted. Her stomach growled again as she waited for the elevator to arrive. She hated elevators, but their office was on the tenth floor of this building and there was no way she was going to take the stairs. She heard her phone beep the message alert as she rode the elevator down to the garage level. There was no service on the elevator so she made a mental note to check the message once she got to the car.

     Camille felt like she had such a pathetic life. If it were not for Ashley, she would have absolutely no joy in life at all. Ashley was truly her sunshine when there was none. Her daughter was the result of her failed marriage at the age of twenty-five. Her mother tried to tell her she was too young to marry, but she did not listen. After a little over a year of marriage to Bruce she ended up pregnant with Ashley and when he realized fatherhood and marriage was too much to handle, he left. Camille begged and pleaded for Bruce to give things more of a chance but he wanted out, stating it was just too many bills and diapers to keep up with. Camille worked as a receptionist for a marketing firm and Bruce worked construction but it seemed to be so difficult to keep up with all the expenses. After just a year and a half, her marriage was over. Camille was so shocked and upset about it all she couldn’t seem to get herself together to manage her life, and she had to move back in with her mother for a while. She could not handle the stress and pressure of the thought of being a single parent. She was diagnosed with post-partum depression and placed on medication after Ashley was born. She loved her daughter but there were many days and nights that were very challenging. She was not able to work for almost two years because she had so much difficulty coping with her failed marriage and how rapidly life had changed in such a short period of time. Most days, her mother had to force her to eat something or take a shower. She could not stay alone with Ashley. She could not even hold Ashley for the first four months for more than a minute before she would leave the room in tears. She even stayed in her room when her mother had company over because social interaction with others was so difficult. Holding conversation with family was almost impossible, as well. She could not socialize with her friends either when they called—not even Tabby. Out of her group of girlfriends from college, Camille and Tabby were the closest. Anytime Tabby called, she would try to hold a conversation, but it always got very awkward really quickly, so after a while, she just stopped answering the phone when it rang.

     Everything improved little by little once she started seeing a psychiatrist and a therapist regularly. It helped to finally start talking and get on a stable medication routine. Her therapist suggested she start a journal to get her feelings out as well and this helped tremendously. She also joined a support group where she met her current boyfriend Larry, although they took it very slow in the beginning. Big improvements were noted after the first few months of therapy, and Camille was feeling like she could possibly live again. She was also able to hold Ashley and play with her which was a relief. She was making progress. After almost a year and a half of therapy, she felt ready to rejoin the real world and applied for her first job in marketing as a sales representative. When Joe Lewis hired her, she was so elated. Her salary was enough so that she could support herself and Ashley on her own. She was truly getting her life back.

     Her mother had her reservations when Camille suggested moving into her own place to raise her daughter, but Camille knew everything would be okay. She could feel it in her gut. It was a double whammy for her mother to find out, not only was Camille moving out, but she was moving further north. Camille never told her mother she was looking for work further away because she knew her mother would do nothing but worry and try to talk her out of it. Camille commuted by train to get to work when she first started. After just a few weeks on the new job, she knew she was blessed with an opportunity to show her daughter a better life than her first two years had been. She moved out of her mother’s house within six months and rented a two-bedroom ranch house in northern Jersey that wasn’t too far from where she worked. She was never in love with her area of New Jersey and desperately needed a change in scenery. Northern Jersey gave her what she needed. She had her own space, and a perk to living in this area was that they had the opportunity to travel into the city of Manhattan on the weekends for shows and sightseeing. Just like her dad did with Camille when she was a little girl.

     Camille took a deep breath as she plopped into her car seat. Her father died of a heart attack when Camille was just fourteen years old. She missed him terribly. He was fun and was a great buffer between her and her mother. He always seemed to love and accept who she was, no matter what. Camille took another deep breath. Thinking about her past always made her feel heavy and drained. Not to mention, the long day she had in the office. She was happy to find a granola bar on the passenger seat of her car as her stomach growled angrily. She ripped the package open and took a bite as she waited for the car to warm up. Some dinner, she thought as she chewed. She almost laughed as she thought about how hard she had worked to get to this position at Joe’s marketing firm. She quickly moved from executive assistant, to a sales rep, to the Assistant Marketing Director position within three years. For the past four years she busted her butt to make it this far and for what? For all this stress and pressure. She was overworked and burnt out. She needed a vacation. The last vacation she had was to Disneyland over two years ago, which really did not count. It was truly a vacation for Ashley. Camille had absolutely no adult contact, no adult conversation, and no alcohol, which, in her opinion, was not a vacation. Larry could not get the time off from work, so it ended up being just the two of them. Camille always had her suspicions that he probably didn’t even try to get off work for the trip but she never confronted him with this accusation.

     She pulled out of her parking space and headed south out of the garage. Her phone sounded the ‘message’ alert beep again. Camille glanced at her handbag but decided she needed to focus on the road to get home safely. Her eyes were already heavy enough, which had her praying she would make it all the way without having to pull over. The messages would have to wait until she got home. As she drove, Camille thought about Larry. Life would be so much easier if he would offer more support to her and Ashley. After six years of dating, they still had not made any moves to solidify their relationship. Of course Camille wanted some kind of commitment from him, but he continued to say he was not ready for that. Camille was always quick to remind him just how long it has been and he needed to make up his mind whether he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her or not. Two years ago, she suggested they move in together, but Larry was not having it. He claimed it was not the right time. “Will there ever be a right time, Larry?” she asked with frustration. He had no answer for that. Just shrugged his shoulders and walked away. He was good at that. Walking away. In fact, he often disappeared without letting her know of his whereabouts. There were times when she did not hear from him for several days and he would not feel there was a need for explanation. “Hey, there’s no ring on my finger,” he would proudly announce while waving his hand in her face. They were not married so she was not supposed to ask any questions. Just accept him with open and willing arms whenever he decided to show his face. Well, she was getting tired of that too.

     Camille knew there would probably never be a right time for Larry. He was just not the settling down type and would never commit. She had no idea why she continued to stay in this relationship. For the past three years she has been feeling like he has not been faithful but she had no way to prove it, and he always denied the accusations. She knew he was not being truthful because he always did this thing with his neck when he was lying and would avoid eye contact. She was waiting for the day to catch him red-handed. Not necessarily in the act of doing something, but just some solid evidence she could throw in his face. Maybe she stuck around for that day of satisfaction. It would be the perfect way to end this sad relationship. She knew she deserved better—not only for her, but for her daughter. Larry was not really the best influence around Ashley. He drank, he smoked, and he had a hard time watching his language. She constantly had to remind him to watch his mouth around Ashley, but he always seemed to “forget.”. It was as if he was not even aware of Ashley’s presence most of the time. In the beginning of their relationship, Ashley was just a one-year -old, and Camille thought he was just awkward around babies, but as the years went on she noticed his relationship with Ashley never really changed. He was estranged from her. He never made any attempt to have a conversation with her, help her with her homework, or really even glance in her direction. Camille asked Larry about this several years ago and he responded that he was never good with kids.

     It really bothered Camille that her boyfriend did not have a relationship with her daughter. She knew it bothered Ashley too, and this hurt. Once Ashley asked Camille if Larry was mad at her or if she did anything to make him upset. She immediately told her daughter, “Of course not,” but to hear this concern just broke Camille’s heart. She never mentioned anything to her mother about it, but Camille was sure she noticed. Just like she was sure her mother noticed that Camille and Larry’s relationship was not so strong either. Her mother was very observant, but tried to stay out of her affairs as much as she could. Camille did appreciate this because she definitely did not like to feel as though others, including mother, were getting into her business. She barely talked about her relationship with Larry to anyone. If questions were asked, she was very vague and quick to change the subject. She knew her mother worried about her settling down though. Every once in a while she would express concern about Ashley not having a father figure in her life since Bruce never expressed any interest either. Camille was also concerned about this and wanted her daughter to have more stability as well.

     Perhaps living life without Larry in it would be more stable, but every time she thought about leaving him, she would remember how he was there for her when she really needed him six years ago. When she felt she had no one else to turn to or no one else who would understand what she was going through during her depression. He was kind and understanding and gentle. He made her feel important and worthy. He made her want to live again. These were the things she needed in her life at that time. She felt a special bond with him and for some reason held onto that time period in their lives. Maybe she did not want to let Larry go for fear of falling apart again. Although it seemed as though she was falling apart anyway. She had not been herself over the past couple of months. Even seven-year-old Ashley knew something was up as she often asked, “Are you okay, Mommy?” Camille felt so bad about this but she was never one to hide her emotions.

     She was so happy to see her development come into view as she turned onto her street. The neighborhood was quiet and peaceful. There was a park further down the road, and it was perfect for children. She pulled into her parking space, put the car in park, and cut the engine. It was nine fifteen, the latest she’d arrived home all week. This is getting ridiculous she thought to herself as she gathered her belongings and headed up the pathway to her apartment. Hopefully, Jill had put Ashely to bed. Her little one often liked to wait up for her, but she also knew eight-thirty was bedtime. If Ashley was not in bed by that time, she would definitely be wired and ready to stay up for several more hours. Camille was too tired tonight to put up with that. Just as she started to turn the key in the door, the door flew open. Jill stood there with her jacket and backpack on, ready to go. She looked just as exhausted as Camille.

     “Sorry, Ms. Thompson, but I have to get out of here. My mother just called and she’s worried. Ash is in the bed,” she informed Camille as she headed out the door. “Sorry, I—--,” Jill began but Camille cut her off.

     “I understand. No problem,” Camille interjected. “See you tomorrow,” .” Camille continued to stand on the doorstep as Jill walked to her car. Once Camille saw Jill was safe, she went inside. Just then, her phone rang the message alert again. She locked the door and dug her cell out of her handbag. She had three missed calls. One was from Larry, one from Tabby, and one from her mother. She was surprised Larry called. She wondered what he wanted. She dialed her voicemail. The automated voice announced she had one new message. She frowned as she heard Tabby’s husband speaking. He could barely talk and she could barely hear him. Was he crying? She replayed the message and turned up the volume on her speaker but still had trouble hearing. She could only make out the last few words.

     “She’s gone, Camille. Tabby. She died about an hour ago,” and he broke down sobbing as the line went dead. Camille collapsed to the floor in shock.