Will a Christmas gift become a Forever filled with love?
~**~ Continue for a sneak peek at the first chapter of ‘The Forever Gift.’
“Get your fucking hands off of me,” I smacked my boss’s hands away from my ass. It had been like this since the first day I made the deal to work under-the-table for the male chauvinist pig.
This time, Ronnie had cornered me in the back hallway when I went to find napkins to fill the containers out front. I’d always known he was a slimeball but for the past seven months, he’d paid me under-the-table and allowed me to keep my money away from the mother-grubbing assholes who had already taken all of my mother’s insurance money. Earning money off the books really helped to keep me off of the collection agencies’ lists — you couldn’t get anything from someone who had nothing. During the long process of my mom’s death, she’d racked up a lot of debt. Which meant I had a decent amount of my own, too. I would have given anything for my mom — but none of it had been enough.
“Don’t be ungrateful, Clara,” Ronnie leered at my boobs. “I’ve been rubbing your back and now… now I think it’s time for you to rub mine.” He waggled his eyebrows and rubbed at his groin.
“You're sick,” I snarled and tried to get past him.
Ronnie took a step in front of the door to the front of the bar where we worked. It was a dive in a bad part of Vegas but putting up with guys pinching my ass allowed me to earn tips on top of the money Ronnie slid to me without the government knowing.
Some rock version of a Christmas classic began to blare from the speakers and the vein in my forehead began to throb with more intensity. Fucking holiday season, I snarled to myself.
I hated this time of the year. My mom had died around Thanksgiving a year ago. Not to mention that the several before that had been lacking in holiday cheer as she’d gotten worse.
“Come on, hot stuff, just a little fun.” Ronnie moved toward me and I could feel as well as smell his horrible breath.
“Look, pencil dick, if you don’t get the fuck away from me, then I’ll—”
“Clara, Clara, Clara,” Ronnie tsked at me. “Just show me a bit of gratitude and you ca—”
I didn’t give the shit-for-brains a chance to finish his vulgar statement. Instead, my knee found itself shoved into his groin with as much force as possible.
“No one… and I mean no one touches me unless I say,” I spit into his red face as he gasped for breath and squealed like a pig.
“You’re” — Ronnie panted as he forced the words past his lips — “fired!”
“Fuck you! I quit!”
**
An hour later I was sitting at my tiny two-seater kitchen table. I stared at the wall as I groaned in defeat.
“Fucking pig,” I snarled in frustration.
Ronnie had refused to pay me the money he owed me. It was almost two weeks' worth, something over eighty hours I had worked — covering everyone else's call-offs — and he laughed in my face because I couldn’t do anything about it. There was no proof I even worked for the man.
Friday would have been payday and I would have had enough money to pay my back rent along with this month's. Now I had a total of two hundred dollars to my name. It wasn’t enough and Mrs. Jenkins told me last month that if I didn’t catch up by this Friday she’d have no choice but to evict me.
A year ago I had lost my mother to cancer. Merry-fucking-Christmas to me. She was all I had in the world and she’d been taken from me. But, it had taken six years for it to happen. Her illness began when I was in high school. Mom kept getting sick and lost a lot of weight. Then they’d found the lumps. Thankfully, mom had gotten the receptionist job before I started middle school so she had insurance. In the end, the insurance hadn’t been enough. The doctors hadn’t been enough. Six long years of pain and she was gone and I was left with the few belongings scattered around this crummy ass apartment.
I sighed and dropped my head to the table.
The opening chords to the chorus of “Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen brought my head up from the table. The song had been put on my phone by my mom. She thought it was funny and it had gotten funnier to her the closer she got to the end. I never thought it was funny but couldn’t bring myself to change it.
‘Always smile, sweet pea. Never let anyone steal your shine.’ Mom’s final words to me before she’d fallen into the coma echoed in my mind as the song ended. The call had been sent to voicemail.
“Another One Bites the Dust…” The song began again.
I snatched up my cell phone and stared at the screen. A number I didn’t recognize was displayed… or…
“Hello,” I replied softly after swiping my finger over the screen.
“Clara?” A voice I’d only heard for the first time just under a year ago echoed from the device in my hand. “Are you there?”
“Yes, this is Clara,” I replied out of habit.
“Good. Hello, sweetheart.” My mom’s mother chuckled over the phone. “I never seem to be able to reach you.”
“I’m sorry… I work a lot of hours,” I deflected.
“You shouldn’t work so hard. Someone your age should have some fun. There’s plenty of time to work in your life.” My grandmother’s voice was kind as she lectured.
“Someone has to pay the bills around here,” I replied coldly as frustration filled me.
“I didn’t mean…” My grandmother sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I worry about you all the way out there in Sin City by yourself.”
“Mrs.
