“Arty!” I yelled, knowing there was no way he could hear me.
The pain in my chest worsened, and for the first time I honestly had no idea do what to do. I just felt sick.
Felicity
My body felt heavy. The machines beeped in silence beside me, and I stared up at the dots on the ceiling.
“You’re up.”
Sitting beside me was none other than Theo. He tried to smile even though he looked… he look so tired and broken. His eyes red and hair messy, I reached up and cupped the side of his face.
“Ar… Arty.” I managed to say even though my throat was sore.
He grimaced, shaking his head. “He left. I’ve tried to find him. I’m going to keep trying, but…”
He trailed off, swallowing the lump in his throat before changing the subject. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good… You think they will let you lie next to me?” I asked.
“Felicity—”
“Theo, lie down and don’t make me talk so much.”
He nodded and rested on the very edge of the bed with me. I’m sure it wasn’t comfortable, but that wasn’t the point. I wanted him to hold on to me now more than ever. I shifted as much as I could, allowing me to look at him.
He bit the corner of his lip, his eyes glossing over. “For years I’ve been so angry at him… I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“We’ll think of something. We are going to be okay, Theo.” As long as we were together, I really honestly believed that.
We would get could get through anything.
EPILOGUE
The Human Condition
Felicity
“Ms. Harper, what brings you here?” Theo’s secretary asked as I got off the elevator on the top floor.
“I was wondering if he had an opening to squeeze another appointment in?” I smiled.
She looked at me oddly. “He’s in a meeting, but I’m sure if I tell him—”
“I’ll wait. Can you just put me up next?”
She looked nervous. “Mr. Darcy said to always put you through.”
I sighed. Every time I came here, someone stepped all over my plans.
“Today I’m here to pitch him something, not as his fiancée, so just treat me like you would anyone else.”
“He has nothing after the meeting, so you can wait.” She pointed to the chairs.
I sat down in the waiting room, taking a magazine, and the very first person I saw was Deborah Day, in the arms of none other than her co-star from Theo and Mr. Hamilton’s movie. Both of them were smiling at each other with ice cream cones in hand. The title above it read, “Only weeks after her Deborah Day and Alexander Arnold’s movie, Mr. and Mrs. Beauchamp, broke box office records, the pair have confirmed they are actually dating in real life.”
Life had changed so quickly over the course of the last year that even I had a hard time believing it. Just like Mark had said before he disappeared altogether, my problems didn’t magically go away. I didn’t see things anymore. I was no longer nauseous or had headaches. For the most part I was still me, both the good and the bad. Since I had tried to kill myself, I decided to see Dr. Butler once a week. He was ashamed of himself for not realizing I wasn’t schizophrenic, and I had to talk him out of quitting.
Theo and his family weren’t on speaking terms. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them the truth about Arty or lie by being around them and keeping silent. Nor could he handle how disapproving they still were of me. It was easier to just keep his distance. On top of which, Arty had left to only God knows where. I knew it took everything Theo had for him not to hunt him down. He was trying to give him space. His father, Charles, on the other hand, was in the hospital. Theo never said a word to me about it. However, I knew from his bloody knuckles not to bother asking. He could keep the secret from Lorelai and Arthur for now… at least until Arty could talk about it. But he wouldn’t let Charles go.
The only people we saw often were Walt and Tori, who would be welcoming their first child next spring, along with Rosemary and Chief Petty Officer Lucas Jackson.
I had texted my father the news, and he called me right way. He even flew to California to see me, but I wasn’t ready, and Theo was more than happy to let him know. While we were in the darkest part of our lives, no one else had been there for us, and now everyone wanted to come back. It actually made it worse, like they were saying they truly could not love me if I had schizophrenia.
“Felicity, what are you doing out here?” Theo came out, walking toward me, the group of men behind him heading back toward their offices. He shifted his gaze to his secretary, who quickly picked up the phone.
“Don’t blame her. I asked her to let me wait because I came here on business.”
His eyebrow rose. “Business?”
I lifted the folder I’d brought. “Do you think you can pencil me in?”
He glanced at his watch. “I guess….”
“I know you have nothing else, you—” I bit my tongue. The last time I’d called him an ass at work, everyone’s heads turned, and I’m sure someone even gasped.
Knowing what I was thinking, he made room for me to step by. “Lead the way.”
I felt his eyes on my ass, so why not give him a show? I walked confidently with my head high until I reached his office. He closed the door and seized my waist, pressing into me with his hard-on.
“Do you treat all your visitors like this?”
“Just you.” He kissed the back of my head and let me go, going behind his brown desk. Unbuttoning his jacket, he sat down, leaning back in the seat. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Darcy?”
“It’s still Ms. Harper for another two weeks—”
“Minor details.” He smirked. “Aren’t you going to get on with it?”
Rolling my eyes, I opened the folder. I put the paper down on his desk. “I would like to pitch a movie idea to you.”
“The Human Condition?” he read aloud. “A love story about a young couple and how their lives drastically change when one of them is diagnosed with a mental illness. I get what this story means you, to us, but it’s been done before.”
“Yeah, but not often through the eyes of the person with the illness. Readers, movie watchers, we all trust the narrator to set the story. But I think we have someone who seems totally normal tell the story. It might give better insight to those looking at mental illness from an outside perspective. I didn’t have schizophrenia, but I did live as someone who did and was treated that way. At Crossroads, I met a few very good people. I want a story for them.”
He stared at me. “It’s going to need a sexier edge to it and maybe a hotter title.”
“Like the couple meeting at a sugar baby party?” I chuckled, and so did he. His green eyes seemed to shine.
“Sure. What about the title? Calling it Sugar Daddy might send the wrong message.”
“How about Sugar Baby Beautiful?” I replied.
He looked confused. “What does that mean?”
“I’d like to think it means the kind of beauty even the richest people can’t buy.”
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
I truly hope that you enjoyed reading Sugar Baby Beautiful as much as I enjoyed writing it. This story means a lot to me. The issues brought up here are inspired by situations within my life and the lives of some of my closest friends. So remember that we are all flawed, but that does not mean we don't deserve love.
There is so much I want to say to you all, but the most important is thank you. Thank you for all of the love and support you've given me on social media. I know there are even a few of you that I talk to regularly on Facebook who always push me to keep writing. I know my books haven’t been 100% spotless when it comes to spelling and grammar issues, but we employed a new team of proofreaders for this book. Thanks for sticking with me. Having fans like you really does inspire me to keep writing!
Stay Ruthless,
JJ
EXCERPT FROM THAT THING BETWEEN ELI & GWEN
chapter one
Tell-Tale Signs
Guinevere
That morning I should have seen the signs. They weren’t massive, but they were there. I had almost slipped and killed myself coming out of the shower…never mind, that one was a big, giant sign. But the others were pretty small. I couldn’t find the left shoe to my favorite pair of red heels. The pearls he had given me slipped off my neck and scattered all across my bedroom floor, some pieces never to be seen again. And when he did show up, twenty minutes late, Taigi would not stop barking at him… like my dog knew March 1st would be a day that would live in infamy for me.
Taking a seat in his brand new midnight blue Mercedes, he didn’t say anything as we pulled out of his Hampton beach house. His knuckles were almost white as he gripped the steering wheel. The back of his hand rested just under his lips, something he had done hundreds of times in our three years together, but only when he was either really worried, or upset.
“Bash?” I gripped one leg and he jumped as if he had forgotten I was sitting next to him.
Turning to me, his light brown eyes met mine. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay? You look like we're going to a funeral, not a wedding,” I joked with a smile. He shook his head and took hold of my hand.
“I’m fine.” He kissed the back of my hand. “Just work stuff. I’m hoping we can do our rounds and get out of there before it gets too late.”
Nodding, I looked back out at the beach as we passed it. Sebastian…or Bash as I called him, was the owner and founder of both Class and Rebel magazines. It was the reason we had met, actually. He had attended one of my gallery openings and loved my photography. I told myself I would never contract myself with any corporation or brand…I liked being a freelancer. I painted and shot what I wanted, what mattered to me. Yet there was just something about Sebastian Evans. No matter how many times I denied his request or bluntly ignored his emails, he never gave up. After all, no matter what Sebastian Evans wanted, he worked until it was his. Eventually, I agreed to shoot for their spring cover. It was only supposed to be that one cover, yet three years later, I was a contracted photographer and now his fiancée.
“Welcome to The Chateau Rouge,” the valet said when we pulled up to a gated mansion. As Bash spoke to him, I found myself staring at the decorated landscape…everything was in beautiful greens and blues. Projected on the pure green grass were the initials E & H, and around it was a small orchestra, just for the arriving guests.
Only when I stepped out of the car was I able to see what had to be the icing on the cake for me. As if these people needed to prove they had money, there were even peacocks walking around.
I looked to Bash.
“What?” He looked at me, confused.
I pointed at everything. “Really?” Was all I managed to say.
“You make it seem like you’ve never seen rich people before. And you should have worn the red dress I picked out for you.” He frowned, taking my hand as we walked towards the seats for guests.
This was another point at which I should have seen the signs, but again, I was blind to it. I can still remember how cold his hand was as I held it. As we mingled with the rest of New York’s elite during cocktail hour, I felt as if I were standing in the middle of the North Pole in a bikini.
“Wow, she’s beautiful,” I whispered as the bride with soft, honey-gold hair walked up the aisle, her makeup flawless to the point where it looked like her skin glowed. The strapless heart-shaped dress clung to her every curve. Her blue eyes filled with unshed tears, and she held her roses tightly, walking slow and steady.
I hope I look half as good as her on my wedding day, I thought, my eyes never off her as she made her way to the front.
It passed in a blur. One moment the pastor was saying something, and the next, Bash was no longer holding my hand.
“Hannah,” he called out, moving to the center of the aisle.
She looked toward him, looked to her groom, and then back at Bash.
My Bash. What…
“Don’t, Hannah.”
What…is…this...?
“Hannah,” Bash called to her.
Stop! My mind screamed.
But, to my horror, she let go of her groom’s hands and ran towards Bash.
I couldn’t breathe. I was up, knocking over my chair. “BASH!” I yelled.
But they were already running…hand in hand.
By this point, every other guest was up on their feet. Those around me moved away, allowing everyone to perfectly see the girl who just got dumped. But, I knew the only person who had it worse than me was the man up front. For the first time since I had gotten there, I truly looked at him. Tall, ivory skinned, short dark hair, piercing green eyes watching his bride run from him…He stood there so still, so shocked, I almost forgot my own pain.
Why hadn’t I seen the signs?
Eli
Even if I lived to be one hundred and fifty, I would never forget that March 1st. It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life. After two years of dating, I had finally asked the Hannah Michaels to be my wife.
We had met as medical interns at New York-Presbyterian, and on the first day she had the attention of every straight male at the hospital. What was sexier than beauty and brains? She was dedicated not only to her work, but also to her patients. The Hannah Michaels… my Hannah was soft, sweet, focused, and precise. No matter what goal, she worked to achieved it… I liked that about her. Whenever we were around each other, we just clicked. She and I were so alike on so many things, there were times that we would end up finishing each other’s sentences. We were close, but didn’t actually start to date until we both became attending’s.
I couldn’t imagine dating anyone else.
“You nervous?” My younger brother, Noah, had placed his arm around my shoulder as I stood in the dressing room.
I’d shrugged him off, fixing my cuff links. “Why would I be nervous?”
“Eli Davenport is finally taking the plunge. I just can’t believe it. I thought you guys were never going to get married.” He then pushed me out of the way to fix his tie.
I smacked him over the head.
“Really? Even today you both fight?” My mother had sighed, coming into the room. Her grey-auburn hair was cropped at her shoulders, and her soft green gown kissed the ground as she came close and pulled me into a light hug. The tears in her eyes were already starting to build.
“Ma, he's getting married, not dying.” Noah chuckled.
She gave him a glare. “Now.” She frowned, looking to me. “Are you sure about this…?”
“Mom.” I held on to her shoulders. She was being ridiculous. “You like Hannah. I like Hannah. Why wouldn’t I be sure? You're finally getting the daughter you always wanted.”
“I know.” She placed her hand on my chest. Even with heels, she was still a full head shorter than me. “I just can’t shake this feeling. Who knew letting you go would be so hard?”
My mother and her dramatics, I’d thought at the time, but if only we both had listened to her gut.
“You still have me,” Noah added, proving he was more like her than our father.
We both looked at him before turning away.
“Wow! Okay, I see how it is,” he muttered before walking towards the door, leaving our mother laughing.
“If your father was still with us, I’m sure he would have been proud of the man you’ve become, Eli. I know I am.” She wiped a few tears.
I wasn’t sure what else to do but give her my arm. I was never the affectionate one, but that day I went through so many different emotions.
She held on to me tightly as we entered the grounds. She and Hannah had gone crazy with the decorations, but they really enjoyed it, and I honestly didn't care. I just wanted to skip to the important part.
I stood in front of all our family and friends, Noah to my left. Finally the music started, and my gaze shot u
p towards the doors of the mansion, waiting for them to open. I knew she would be beautiful, but that day she was radiant.
God, I’m so lucky.
With every step she took, the grin on my face grew, until her hand was in mine.
“You look beautiful,” I whispered.
She smiled, but didn’t say anything in return. In that instant, as the pastor began to speak, all the moments we ever shared together played in my mind. The very first time we met. Our first operation together… first kiss… first night… everything ran though my mind like a movie. The highlights of our life…
And this is just the beginning of so much more. Today is—
“Hannah,” someone called.
Hearing her name pulled me from thoughts. My head snapped to the man now standing in the aisle, hand outstretched to my soon-to-be-wife.
“Sebastian?” Noah questioned beside me.
Sebastian… the man calling out to my Hannah was Sebastian Evans, one of Noah’s closest friends. We weren’t close, but I knew of him.
“Hannah,” he called again.
Enough! My mind hollered as I took a step forward, but it was too late.
Hannah released my hand. She let go and never looked back as she ran towards him.
I stood there, too shocked to move or speak. That moment was hell on earth.
For hours, I could not speak. My mind was blank. I tried to understand, but my brain—my heart—were both shot. I leaned on the balcony of the dressing room, staring out at the ocean until the sun set. Only then did I regain function of my body, and I ran. Stupidly, I ran out towards the front. All the guests, with the exception of family and the cleaning crew, had left. When I got outside, I saw my brother ripping the “Just Married” sign from the Bentley.
“Eli—”
“Keys.” I walked around to the driver's side of the car. As I opened the door, I saw a woman dressed in blue step in front of me. She had long wavy brown hair and brown skin. Her brown eyes were now rimmed with red from what I could only guess was crying. She stood tall with her head held high.