Single Mama Drama. Kayla Perrin

      This book is dedicated to every woman who is, or has

       been, a single mother. They say motherhood is the hardest job in the world, and it’s even more so when you’re parenting alone. Single mothers do their thing—they work hard, love their children and often don’t get a break. So I hope as you read this book you’re able to put your feet up, relax for a while and smile. You deserve it!

      Contents

      acknowledgment

      chapter one

      chapter two

      chapter three

      chapter four

      chapter five

      chapter six

      chapter seven

      chapter eight

      chapter nine

      chapter ten

      chapter eleven

      chapter twelve

      chapter thirteen

      chapter fourteen

      chapter fifteen

      chapter sixteen

      chapter seventeen

      chapter eighteen

      chapter nineteen

      chapter twenty

      chapter twenty-one

      chapter twenty-two

      chapter twenty-three

      chapter twenty-four

      chapter twenty-five

      chapter twenty-six

      chapter twenty-seven

      chapter twenty-eight

      chapter twenty-nine

      chapter thirty

      chapter thirty-one

      chapter thirty-two

      chapter thirty-three

      ACKNOWLEDGMENT

      I am eternally grateful for the support provided to me by the Writers’ Trust of Canada’s Woodcock Fund while I was writing this book. At the time, I was involved in an unexpected, time-consuming and expensive legal situation. Thanks to the support I received from the Woodcock Fund, I was able to concentrate on finishing my book, rather than on trying to find a part-time job to make ends meet during this difficult time. Thanks to everyone involved with the Woodcock Fund. Your support of writers in need is truly remarkable!

      chapter one

      “Damn you, Eli,” I muttered when my fiancé’s voice mail picked up for the gazillionth time. “Are you planning to never talk to me again?”

      Cursing softly under my breath, I flipped my cell phone shut. No point leaving another message. It was obvious—painfully so—that Eli was avoiding me.

      Great. It wasn’t even nine-thirty in the morning yet, and it was clear that the day was going to be full of drama.

      I’d been calling Eli since shortly after he stormed out of our apartment the night before, and so far, I hadn’t heard a word from him. Did he expect me to grovel? Perhaps take out a billboard ad announcing to all of South Florida that I had overreacted? We’d had a fight. So what? It certainly didn’t warrant him acting like I no longer existed.

      Enough was enough. If Eli didn’t have the decency to get back to me, why should I spend the day moping over him?

      Balancing my Starbucks latte in one hand, I shoved my cell phone into my purse with the other, then strode purposefully into the office building on NE Fifth Street, where I worked in downtown Miami. I showed my ID card to security before heading for the bank of elevators. Only one other person was waiting there, a tall and striking brunette. She barely glanced my way, but when she did, I saw that her eyes were red-rimmed. Clearly, she had been crying. I wondered if she, like me, had dealt with some early-morning man drama.

      Probably. At least I wasn’t the only one arriving late to the office because of a man.

      I got off first, on the eleventh floor. My plan was to head through the glass doors housing the Believe the Dream, Change Your Life Agency and go straight to my office. But as I approached the doors, I found myself reaching into my purse and wrapping my fingers around my cell phone.

      Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it….

      I did. I pulled the phone out of my purse and once again punched in Eli’s mobile number. What can I say—as frustrated as I was with him, there was no way I would stop trying to reach him. He was my fiancé—the Mr. Right I’d finally found at the ripe old age of twenty-eight—and I was determined to marry him.

      “Eli, baby,” I said when his voice mail picked up. “It’s me again. I’ll bet you’re still sleeping, which is why I haven’t heard from you yet. Listen, I know I said this before, but I am sorry about last night. I was stressed to the max, had worked an incredibly long day—and you know how I get when I’ve worked past eight at night.” With my shoulder, I nudged the glass door open and headed into the agency. I nodded in greeting at Alaina, the receptionist and a friend, as I walked briskly past her. “The good news is, the campaign is now all set,” I said a little loudly, hoping Alaina would hear and think I was on a business call, even though she wasn’t my superior. “And I’ll be home right after work today,” I continued, when she was out of earshot. “No later than six, I promise. And then I’m all yours. Maybe Carla can even babysit Rayna for a couple extra hours and we can go for a nice dinner.”

      I paused as I attempted the fine art of opening my office door with full hands, succeeded, and stepped inside. I quickly placed my coffee on my desk, along with my purse. “Can you just call me, please? Let me know the wedding’s still on,” I added with a laugh, the kind that said I was sure it was, but in reality, I wasn’t entirely confident of that anymore. Anytime Eli and I had had a disagreement before, he’d never taken this long to get back to me. We were the type who patched things up in a couple hours at the most, and we certainly never went to bed angry with one another.

      Eli wasn’t that mad at me—was he?

      After all, I was the one with the right to be mad. I was a single mother, and he’d damn near bitten my daughter’s head off when she spilled her milk on his lap. At the time, I’d reacted instinctively, like a mother hen protecting her chick, but now the clarity of the morning after had me realizing that Eli had simply overreacted, then I had overreacted, which had led to a stupid fight.

      I tossed my cell onto my desk and collapsed in my leather chair with a long-suffering sigh. No sooner had I sat down than my door swung open. My boss, Debbie Noble, walked in and closed the door behind her.

      “I’m sorry, Debbie,” I began without preamble. “I got held up a little this morning because my sitter had to run an errand, so I couldn’t bring Rayna over there at the usual time.” A lie, but what the hell. I didn’t need any more grief today.

      Debbie waved a hand dismissively. “That’s not why I’m here.”

      “Oh?”

      A grin slowly spread on her face as she strolled toward my desk. “Ask me what I was doing last night.”

      I reached for my Starbucks cup and took a quick sip of my latte. “I already know what you were doing. You were having dinner with a potential client.” The agency represented motivational speakers and life