But then my face falls slightly as Carmella pounds her brick against the floor again.
“Have you heard from Marissa’s institution?”
Marcus’s expression is grim and he jerks his head in a nod.
“They sent me an update last weekend. She’s doing really well there, Adds. You don’t have to worry. Now that we know she’s bi-polar, they’ve got her on a strict drug regimen, and are watching her closely. I’m glad she’s finally getting the help she needs.”
I nod because we decided not to press charges after Marissa was evaluated by a psychiatrist and given her diagnosis. More than anything, I felt bad for her because she was obviously suffering, and had no anchor, the way that I have Marcus. Fortunately, she has a wonderful team of doctors and social workers, and with the medication, she seems to be thriving. Plus, my boyfriend’s ex has started painting, and we even have one of Marissa’s pieces hung in the guest bedroom. Despite everything, I wish her well.
“I’m glad to hear that. Next time you talk to her, tell her I say hello.”
“I always do,” Marcus says. He’s still listed as Marissa’s emergency contact because honestly, she doesn’t have anyone else. She’s managed to alienate all of her family and friends over the years, and now her ex-husband is the only person who was willing to take on power of attorney. It’s a huge responsibility, but I’m proud of my boyfriend for handling it.
But then Marcus smiles at me and takes my hand.
“Enough of that sad talk. Everything I have is because of you, Addy.”
I smile back.
“You mean, the business? Lots of people want to get into plus-size now. I think we were just one of the first prestige brands to do it.”
He shakes his head.
“No, not just that, Addison. I have you, and I have our family. You mean more to me than the House of Steele because I could rebuild the fashion line if I wanted to, but I could never re-create what I have with you.”
Tears come to my eyes and I lean forward to press my lips against his tenderly.
“Then, I hope you’ll be happy to hear my news,” I whisper. “Because I’m pregnant again. You’re going to be a daddy, and Carmella’s going to have a little brother or sister in about six months.”
Marcus’s eyes go wide and to my surprise, his eyes begin to tear as well. He kisses my hand feverishly.
“Really, sweetheart? Are you really pregnant?” he asks while pressing a reverent hand against my belly, as if saying hello to the child within. I nod, and then he drops to one knee before me. Carmella squeals at this display and I go still with shock. Is this really happening?
Sure enough, Marcus procures a huge diamond from his pocket and holds it before me, his eyes filled with love and support.
“Addison Maplethorpe, you are everything I’ve dreamed of in a woman. You’re smart, sharp, beautiful, a wonderful mother, and an even better partner. I love you more than words can say. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I clap my hands with pleasure, and Carmella copies me, squealing with glee.
“Oh my God, yes! Of course! Yes!”
Marcus stands up and seizes my mouth in a kiss. Of their own accord, my arms wind around his neck, pulling him close in adoration as our daughter watches. After all, I couldn’t ask for a more perfect life. We have everything, including a beautiful daughter, a thriving business, and another baby on the way.
THE END
Liked what you read?
Want to hear about my newest romance? Addicted to over the top alpha males and the women who adore them? Then join my mailing list at www.subscribepage.com/alphamalesontop and get FREE BOOKS unavailable elsewhere!
Sneak Peek: My Dad’s Business Partner Harlow
Harlow decides to be a bad girl her first day on the job.
Jane went shopping with me last week for work clothes because she said I had nothing appropriate. I’m thankful, because my friend is right. All my so-called “work clothes” were shabby and too tight. I put on the freshman fifteen and then the sophomore twenty, so I’m a bigger girl now. New clothes were definitely needed.
Now, I pull up to Kombuchaid headquarters in a pale gray skirt suit and white lace blouse. My leather messenger is by my side, and I swing it over one shoulder while getting out of my car. I’m still awkward in heels, mincing across the parking lot, but at least they make me feel taller and more confident.
As I enter the glass doors, I hear a sharp voice call out across the marble waiting area.
“Miss Marshall?” A severe woman in an eggplant suit stalks over to me in stilettos. She has far too much makeup on and one of those “I want to speak to your manager” hairstyles. I’m immediately intimidated.
“Yes?”
She gives me a perfunctory nod.
“I’m Karen, and I’m here to show you around on your first day. Follow me.” And with that, she spins on her heel and walks away, her mouth pursed like she’s just bitten into a lemon. Clearly, Karen doesn’t want to be doing this, and wishes I were dead. I instantly do not like her. She’s skinny and rude and reminds me far too much of my mother but what choice do I have?
Silently, I follow her through the labyrinth of Kombuchaid headquarters and end up completely lost by the time we arrive at my
