Where Would I Be Without You

Where Would I Be Without You

KDP
Version

Chick Lit.
General Adult Romance

Published
and Copyright 2013 CJ Hawk

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books and sample chapters by CJ Hawk at

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This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and strictly fictional.  All persons, places or incidences are creative endeavors of the author
and by no means are any viewpoints in this book a perspective of the author's lifestyle or opinions.  This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people without the author's permission.  Lendable copies are the exception.  Cover and inserts may be used for editorial reviews.  This is a Kindle KDP promotional version.

Included at the end of this story are sample chapters of four other eb
ooks available that are similar to this story.  All of the authors books sample chapters are available to read online at her website.  If you like this book, you will enjoy the other four samples included as well.  This author writes general audience romance, quirky mystery to mature adult romance.

Often in
life, you are given choices.  One that is clear, concise, and common sense, the other one, well let's call him TROUBLE for short.  You are given these choices to make your life easier as the happy caring gods are smiling down on you thinking, you go girl, here you are, your two choices; we know you will make the right one.  Then the blue-sky turns an ominous steel gray full of thunderclouds and lightning begins to strike; gale-force winds begin to blow as you make the wrong choice.  It's not like you saw all the warning signs.  Blue sky to dark.  Lightning.  Gail force winds.  But hey, if you always made the right choices, life would be one very boring highway.  Doing what becomes one, doesn't always make common sense, but it sure makes life fun.

What does Amber Jones
do when a man who seems perfect comes along just when she start making one mistake after another?  Perfection is the farthest thing from Amber Jones horizon.  Sure, she has a great job, a nice body, hair that is manageable and a closet that she could brag about at a fraction of its cost, what more could a woman want?  A lot!  What she doesn't have, at the almost ripe age of thirty, is a plan to set the next thirty years in motion without all the continuing chaos or drama that she likes to entertain her family and best friend Marion with.

With all intensive purpose of growing up and making something out of her life, Amber has diligently supplied herself with one of her famous plan of action lists.  She wants to take college courses to appease her mom, without quitting her great job with benefits.  She would like her boyfriend to take things just a bit more serious
, and perhaps do some mature activities like volunteer work, versus spending her entire Sunday watching movie marathons after spending the entire Saturday night embarrassing herself at a karaoke bar.

All it took was one night, one very crazy chaotic drunken night on her part, to turn everything around.  Depending on
if, she is heading in the right direction when it all settles is up to Amber and her grown up decisions, or does she find a way to muck it up again?

Chapter One

It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to.  You would cry to
o if it happened to you. Ok, it's not my official birthday yet, but the one time I plan my own birthday party; one very bad thing made everything else go horribly wrong.  As I lay here singing that song over and over with just the one verse in my head, I felt the whole thing rehash in my mind like a hamster on a running wheel as I tried to determine where I went wrong.  What made me think that I was capable of even making good choices?  How the heck did I end up here?  Drunk, naked in my bed, drooling into my pillow?  I had cried to myself for hours thinking about everything that just happened.  Wondering why I make such foolish decisions that lead me down a path of either shame or sorrow.  How did I Amber Jones, five foot six, one forty wet, green eyes and brown hair with copper highlights, get to be who I am at this very moment, one extremely depressed sad birthday girl?

Just twelve hours ago, I was getting ready to head out and meet my family, my best
friend Marion and her husband Carl and my kind-of new boyfriend Steve, at an up and coming Italian restaurant down on Seventeenth.

My mom had made the reservations for
twelve people, but the place usually only sat four or six tops, so they made us pay an extra hundred for the backroom held for large parties.  I only turned thirty once and told her to go ahead, and I would pay it.  Besides, maybe Steve would be impressed with the room and... my new dress that I had just bought - dark blue, clingy, cocktail of a number with matching strappy heels.  Not to mention, the two hours working on my hair into an updo and perfectly styled makeup, and I looked hot.

I f
elt hot and desirable, perhaps having something to do with Steve and my recent level of orgasms.  I was looking forward to a great night of birthday wishes, fun chitchat, and then ending it with a very, very romantic night with Steve.  Because, up until now, it was quickies during lunch at the motel down the street from my work every Wednesday and early Sunday mornings at my place.  He claimed his job as a security manager at the airport had him working off hours, and he had a sick sister he helped take care of.  However, he had guaranteed me that tonight, was our night.  Even though, it had to be at my place because his apartment was being fumigated for bugs since an old lady neighbor died and wasn't found for too many, too ripe, days later.  Just that mention, and I had no desire to sleep over at his place any ways.  I had a feeling if I ever did, every time I walked by his neighbor's apartment, I would be completely slammed with sorrow and depression over how his neighbor died.

Looking back, my night started with a euphoric high of self-confidence and positive outlook.  Somehow though, t
he night went horrible wrong.  Where should I start?  I arrived looking glamorous and feeling like a model, fifteen minutes early.  I was greeted by my father Hal, who had already been on drink number four and was slamming it back, all because of my mother.  She was riding his ass about something new that she found a thrill in riding his ass about.  This is why my father drank and had an occasional fling on the side, not to my approval, but I could somehow see why he did.  I grabbed my own shot of whiskey from the bar and slammed it back, and then I proceeded to walk confidently to the party room where my party was to be held.  I was promptly overwhelmed with the birthday balloons and dangling ribbons everywhere.  It looked like a toddler turned two birthday decorations.  Big bold numbers three and zero were everywhere.  Matching colored sparkly tabletop decorations were placed along the twenty-foot table that they were sitting us at, not to mention the confetti that was made of sparkly metal punches were strewn all across the table.

"Oh there you are."  My mother screamed out.  "Hurry up.  The rest of the family is going to be here
soon.  You need to go change?"  That was my mother.  Always criticizing or degrading my clothing attire.  What I had on was perfect for this party, right up until the moment, she opened her judgmental mouth.

"I am dressed mother."
  I replied in a soft even tone, but my mental voice was screaming back.  'I look incredible Harriet so just shut it would you.'  Harriet would be the name my mother was called whenever I was mad.  More often than not, I said her name internally, but when I did speak up and voiced her name out loud, she knew I was mad.  Today, I was not going to let her get to me and say her name aloud.

"Oh.  All right.  I guess if that is what you have chosen to wear.  I thought maybe you had some THING before
this, and that you might want to change into more family attire before the rest of the family gets here."

I didn't have a chance to snap a rebuttal back as my
younger sister Bethany, the perfect one, as she came into the room like a floating angel.  "Mom.  I got some more tape.  Sis.  Hey, you look nice.  Got a hot date later?"

"Actually, he's coming tonight."
  I said it as if I was floating on air while thinking about it.

"I see.  Mom, here's the tape but really I think we've done enough.  Don't you sis?"
  Bethany was on one of her typical missions, helping my mom, and nothing could distract her.

"Too much if you ask me."
  My tone snapped out a bit too snarky, but I wanted the night to be elegant and sophisticated not toddler time with dressing insults.  Would it kill my mother, just for once, to say, 'my dear you look lovely - who did your hair; it's stunning'?  I might be doing a mental reach here; however, it was what I wanted to hear versus what I always got.  Therefore, my tone reached everyone's ears before I had a chance to reign in the anger.

My mother completely ignored me and turned to my sister, looped her arm in
my sisters, turned her to look at the mass of decorations and leaned her body into hers.  "Well if you think so, I'll stop, but I just thought it might help liven the mood since your sister only turns thirty once, and I haven't been able to throw her a graduation party for college like we did for you sweetheart.  Not to mention the fact that you just got that huge promotion and was made manager."

I got it.  I did.  I got every slick tongue dig my mother tossed out there.  I grew up with
this, and I wanted to shout out that my sister was addicted to speed and sleeping pills, not to mention she jumped Redbull's revenues up a percentage all by herself.  However, I have never once, called out my sister's flaws to deviate from mine.  I don't think my mother would have accepted them any ways.  Superhuman Sis could keep my mother's attention; I was never on the happy reciprocating end of it any ways... no matter how hard I tried.

I turned on my heels and headed back to the bar, only to find Marion and her husband Carl ordering a drink for themselves and my dad.  Marion and my dad had always gotten along.  They were my joint force in dealing with the rest of my crazy family.  Carl
?  Well, he loved Marion, but he also tolerated all of this only twice a year, my birthday and the family summer barbeque that Marion always insisted he attend with her.  The rest of the time, Carl would claim he had to be out of town or Marion would say he had to golf with a client.

Marion stood at the bar looking ever
the perfect trophy housewife she had come to be.  Her perfectly done long brown hair hung in glorious curls down her back.  Her simple elegant black dress with lace shawl made her look glamorous at any age.  She turned to me with her eyes sparkling and her makeup perfect, and even though she left me at the plant six years ago to marry Carl and become the perfect quintessential housewife slash trophy wife; I loved her every day for the person she still is.

I watched Carl's arm slip protectively behind Marion as he turned to see who she was smiling at. 
Some days I thought it was true love, but the other day Marion let me know that, as long as she had her looks and wits about her, she was golden for about another ten years, then she worried it would be just then that Carl would start looking for another younger trophy wife.  She often joked that Botox and tummy tucks were a trophy wife's best friend.  She even joked that half her monthly allowance went into a bank account so that when he did leave her, she wouldn't be broke due to the prenup his mother made her sign.  However, I saw the way he adored her and the constant possessiveness in his nature to make sure that she was always well taken care of; I had a hard time believing he would ever want to trade her in for somebody else.

Marion and I hugged and
then Carl gave me a kiss on the cheek, telling me how incredible I looked.  He was the first to say it and mean it.  My dad raised his glass and slurred out a few words that I would take as a compliment, and then I motioned to the bartender with a point of my finger to my dad and a slash of my hand across my throat.  "Hey dad.  How about we get some coffee in you?  The night's young and I'll let you order a nightcap or two once dinner comes."

"Party snooper."  He slurred.  I knew he meant to say party pooper but my heart went out to the man.  I didn't like that he was an alcoholic and a retired cop
with nothing to do but deal with my mom all day.  However, you could not blame the man since he was married to my mom, besides something made me think he had started drinking long before he got to the restaurant today.