She, the Kingdom

By Olivian Pope

Sex, love, loyalty, and betrayal. Not in that order.

Morgan Clarke is a single, working mom in tiny Kills Cross, Kansas, until Maxwell Kingston, a New York businessman moves in to her tiny town, and purchases the hospital where she works. One by one, employees are dismissed, and Morgan is one of them. Her only relief is that her children are staying with their father during the summer so they can't see her break down, panicked about how she will continue to pay bills that were already stacking up. Morgan's ex hadn't paid child support in months, and happens to call her within an hour of her lay off. He's struggling, too. There would be no more money.

The same man who fired Morgan shows up at her door with an offer. Maxwell Kingston knows Morgan is too talented to be working at a dead end job in a farm town. He can take care of Morgan's every need. All she has to do is say yes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Olivian Pope
• Release date: Nov 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370640270

Book preview

Chapter One

You’re joking, Amelia said, her mouth hanging open.

A flash fire began beneath my cheeks and spread to the rest of my face. I motioned for her to keep her voice down. The hospital cafeteria air was bloated with chatter, but I didn’t want to chance anyone hearing. She knew better than to draw attention to our total inappropriate conversation.

Amelia and I had the same lunch hour for seven years, sat at the same corner table, and talked about the same things in different ways. While I‘d been married, she’d been single. Now that I was divorced, she was married. She’d cross her long, caramel-colored legs for the entire fifty-two minutes we were seated, twisting one ankle behind the other, for extra twistiness.

Amelia covered her mouth with her elegant fingers, the cuticles manicured, the nails tipped white and filed to perfection to go with her new diamond wedding set. Amelia was now the Missus of Dr. and Mrs. John Heathington. She’d been the first person I’d met my first day in Mercy Hospital’s finance department. I remembered seeing her as I’d passed by to find my cubicle, thinking that her long, tawny hair shined, even in the dark. She’d watched me pass with curiosity in her eyes, and flashed a welcoming smile. I’d known then that we would be more than just colleagues. Seven years later, we were both directors of different departments, but we still had lunch together every day.

Amelia’s hair was still as shiny as it was when she was twenty-one, her waist still as trim, her shoulders still as toned. I tried not to compare myself to her; after all, her Brazilian mother had been one of the first Sports Illustrated swimsuit models. Beauty was in her blood. Her father was a Swede, and her ocean blue irises matched his perfectly.

My blood contained a lot more carbs—more specifically, fried foods and noodles. Bowls and bowls of seafood, fatty meats, and potatoes as far back as Chile was old. My mother was Chilean, my father Canadian. They had met somewhat in the middle—the US—and the result was a daughter with a head full of dark, frizzy curls and barely-olive skin. Not nearly as exotic as Amelia’s, which could explain why she’d snagged the hospital’s most eligible bachelor first, even though I’d been the one to introduce them. If both of them didn’t have amazing personalities to go with the looks and bank balance, I would have given it a year, but there Amelia was, happily Mrs. Heathington. It would have been too easy to hate her. Even if she was my best friend.

Morgan, tell me you’re joking. Not even once? Not even close? That’s my preferred avenue of the Big O. How did I not know this?

I glanced around at the suits and scrubs, the doctors and administration chatting about anything but orgasms and oral. It’s just not my thing. It makes me uncomfortable. I can’t relax.

Not even with Nick?

I bristled. Amelia knew better than to say his name.

She covered her mouth again. Oh, gosh, Morg. Oh, darn dang it.

I feigned shock, looking around. Tone it down, sailor. You’re going to get us both fired.

Amelia’s cheeks turned red. She could discuss cunnilingus in the middle of the hospital cafeteria, but swear words were beyond her comfort zone. Even the lame ones. Amelia was bright, practically radiating her own personal sunshine. I supposed that was what John found so irresistible, besides the obvious in the beginning. Then he got to know how amazing she truly was.

Are you free this weekend, or…? I began, already knowing the answer.

We’re volunteering Saturday afternoon and Sunday evening. We’re free next weekend.

I was part of a we once, although we never said we. Nick was Nick, and I was Go Ask Mom, and our kids became my kids. The worst part was that Josh and Hannah were relieved when we split up, even though I’d hesitated for two years, because I was worried how my leaving would affect them.

Someone wearing Barbie pink scrubs sat next to us and leaned in. Did you hear?

Oh. Hey, Rhonda. Rhonda, this is Morgan Clarke. She’s the director of the finance depart—

Hi, Rhonda said, anxious to get on with her gossip. She brushed her graying, permed hair away from her face. She matched her lipstick to her scrubs, but colored outside the lines more than once. I was hesitant to believe anything she was about to say. Half the administration is being let go today. They’ve been calling people in all morning. The Director of Radiology was first.

Amelia giggled. What? That’s ridiculous. The hospital can’t function with fifty-percent admin.

I didn’t want to believe her, but panic began to spread throughout my body. Oh my God.

Morgan, Amelia said.

Mercy was just bought by Appalachian Valley Medical. It was finalized last week.

Morg, Amelia warned. Don’t worry about something unless you have something to worry about. I don’t want you sitting up all night… again.

I frowned. Amelia frequently worried about my inability to sleep. I was a natural night owl, but she was sure it was due to insomnia or anxiety. In truth, the thought of sleep was just boring to me. I often wished I didn’t have to sleep at all.

He’s here, Rhonda said. Maxwell Kingston.

Maxwell Kingston? I chose to whine the name instead of shriek the way I’d wanted. What kind of name is that?

Rhonda seemed thrilled to share even more. His family and close friends call him Max, but no one else dares. His sister’s name is Peaches. No joke.

"Like her real name? How do you know?" I asked.

This is so inappropriate, Amelia said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She had barely touched her chicken, kale, and spinach salad that looked abhorrently disgusting anyway. Meanwhile, I was double fisting my salami sandwich and chomping away between desperate questions.

Rhonda is married to Dr. Holsten, Amelia said. He’s on the board, and he’s met Mr. Kingston on several occasions.

We had dinner with him and his wife, Sophie, just last weekend. Such a young, beautiful, powerful couple. I’m fairly certain they hate each other, Rhonda said, smiling.

I dropped my nearly eaten sandwich and sat back in my chair. We’re totally getting fired.

You’re worrying, Amelia scolded. I told you not to worry.

So when should I worry? I asked. When I’m fired?

Her tiny nose wrinkled. Why would you get fired? You haven’t missed a day of work in years. When is the last time you took a vacation?

They’re actually laying people off. With severen… Rhonda trailed off, her gaze rising to something horrifying, several feet above my head.

I closed my eyes. Who is behind me?

Mr. Kingston, Amelia said with a small smile, dabbing a napkin at the corner of her mouth. She was cool as a cucumber, always at her best during a crisis. Good to see you again. Won’t you join us?

I turned slowly, gawking at Mr. Kingston’s eyes, easily six feet or more above the ground. He looked exactly as I’d imagined, strong jaw, steely eyes, clean-shaven, and smelling like he’d just stepped out of the shower, because, gauging by his physique, he’d been at the gym for eleven hours. His dark hair was long enough to style, but his look was arguably conservative, as was his gray suit and crimson tie—the color of blood. Likely to get him in the mood to axe us all, one by one.

I’ve actually just returned from lunch with my sister, Peaches. His eyes settled on Rhonda, his expression absent of emotion.

She swallowed, terrified.

Mrs. Clarke, he began.

Ms., I corrected.

A barely noticeable smile began at one corner of his mouth. My apologies. Ms. Clarke, would you mind accompanying me to my office?

I looked back over my shoulder at Amelia, who was steadfast in her calm demeanor.

Uh, sure, I said, pushing my tray toward my friend. You’ll take care of this?

Of course. You’d do it for me. You help everyone out, she said.

I cringed at her obvious last-ditch effort to save my job, plucked my purse from the back of my chair, slung it over my head and across my chest, and followed Kingston out of the cafeteria, watched by dozens of wary eyes. They all knew what was in store for me upstairs. A pink slip and a pep talk. In some ways, better than discussing my lack of enjoyment of oral sex over kale and salami.

Salami. Hell! My breath probably smelled like a rotten pig. I dug into my purse while we waited in front of an elevator, and popped the first mint my fingers touched. I coughed once, wrinkling my nose at the taste permeating my mouth. Kingston’s ghost of a grin returned as he tried not to watch me chew the Acetaminophen I’d mistaken for a breath mint. He held out a gold tin that looked like it cost more than my entire outfit.

Thanks, I said, reaching inside and placing the cinnamon tablet on my tongue. It melted quickly, making the chalky bitterness in my mouth disappear, too.

The elevator opened, and Kingston gestured for me to step inside. He followed me into an empty elevator, and the doors closed.

So, I began, am I getting fired?

No one is being fired, Ms. Clarke.

Laid off?

That is the correct term.

Am I?

Kingston looked straight forward, not-so-subtly hinting that he was ignoring my question.

Who else is in your office? I asked.

Mr. Lacy and Ms. Simms.

I nodded. The hospital president and HR. Great.

He chose not to respond again.

"I’m a single mom, you know. I have two kids, ten and seven. If they were sick, my mom kept them. I haven’t missed a day of work since Josh broke his arm when he was six. That was four years ago. I shook my head. Everyone says there is no loyalty these days, so I was determined to be loyal. Look where loyalty gets you."

Kingston turned to me. Do you always talk this much?

I narrowed my eyes. No. Are you always so quiet?

Generally, he said, amused.

I’m glad you find this funny, I seethed.

The doors opened, and a nurse walked in, quietly greeting us both. She rode up to the next floor and stepped off as soon as the doors opened. I imagined she could feel the tension in the small space.

The doors swept closed, and we rode up three more floors. Again, when the doors opened, Mr. Kingston gestured for me to go first. Always a gentleman, even when being a heartless asshole.

I sighed and walked toward the receptionist. She was expecting us, and greeted me with an awkward smile. Good afternoon, Mr. Kingston. Mr. Lacy and Ms. Simms are waiting.

Very good, Miss Hill. Kingston turned right toward the boardroom instead of left toward his office.

As we walked past, I could see from her employee badge that Miss Hill’s name was Candace. Of course it is. Her bleach-blonde hair, round, blue eyes, thick, black eyelashes, and the three inches of cleavage showing above her low neckline told me everything I needed to know about Kingston. No amount of expensive cinnamon mints could get that bad taste out of my mouth.

Hi there, Morgan, Ms. Simms said, reaching over the boardroom table.

Sandra, I replied, shaking her hand.

It’s good to see you, she said, gesturing for me to take a seat.

I nervously fingered my employee badge, wondering if that morning was really the last time I’d put it on. Wish I could say the same, I muttered.

Mr. Lacy and Ms. Simms let out a shocked laugh, which turned into chuckles. I felt my cheeks pink. Everyone making light of so many people losing their jobs today was infuriating.

Before we begin, Kingston said, running his hand down his blood-red tie. I’d like to share what Ms. Clarke told me in the elevator, which is that she is a single mother, and she hasn’t missed a day of work in four years. Is that true? He looked to Ms. Simms.

She nodded without even looking at my file that sat on the desk before her. Yes, sir. Which is why I recommended offering Morgan a reduction in salary in an effort to keep her at Mercy. Morgan is well-liked by everyone in her department, along with everyone else who works closely with her. She has met or surpassed goals every quarter, and her department rates their work experience as above average. She’s been an exemplary employee.

I frowned at the seven years I’d spent at Mercy being summarized in such a detached way. I’d held baby showers, birthday parties, and graduation parties for my colleagues’ kids. I’d visited them when they were sick, had listened when they were frustrated. I knew all the names of their spouses, their children, and grandchildren, their preferred toppings on pizza, and their favorite books and music. The finance department was oftentimes a thankless job, and I’d made sure everyone in my department felt appreciated.

Three pairs of eyes settled on me.

Oh, you’re… you’re asking me? My choice is to be let go or take a reduction in pay for doing the same job?

Morgan, Mr. Lacy began.

How much less? I asked.

Kingston seemed intrigued.

Ten thousand annually, Ms. Simms said, almost as an admission.

Ten… that’s less than I made when I started, I said.

We understand this is a difficult decision, Mr. Lacy began.

Okay, I said.

The three admins traded glances.

Okay? Ms. Simms repeated.

Okay. I’ll take the cut in pay. I need this job, Sandra. I’m damn good at it, and I don’t know who would take my place if I left. My department depends on me. So, if I have a choice, I choose to stay.

Ellen Jacobs, Kingston said.

I paused, not sure what he meant. Pardon?

Ellen Jacobs will be taking over your position, he clarified. This hospital is on the brink of bankruptcy, Ms. Clarke, and—pardon me for being so blunt—but if you’re willing to take a cut in pay, it would serve us even better to pay someone beneath you to do your job and theirs, essentially cutting costs that much more.

I shook my head. Ellen can’t do my job and hers. That’s impossible.

Actually, it’s not, Kingston said. He pulled a sheet of paper from a stack beside my employee file, looked it over, signed it, and pushed it across the table at me. Sign and date, Ms. Clarke. This is your termination agreement, and the outlining of your severance package. I’m sure you’ll find it satisfactory until you find something else.

My bottom lip quivered, but from anger. Do you have any idea where we are, Mr. Kingston? I said. Our choices are gas stations, fast food franchises, city jobs—which are all taken and have been for years—or this hospital. Do you think I agree that the pay cut you offered is justifiable, or even fair? The truth is, it doesn’t matter because I need this job. A severance package isn’t going to help me in, I looked down at the paper, three months. Are you joking?

Ms. Simms looked on the verge of tears, Mr. Lacy looked uncomfortable, while Mr. Kingston looked entertained.

Morgan, Ms. Simms said. We’ll need you to sign to accept your severance, and leave your badge. We’re very, very sorry.

I scribbled my name and date on the page and pushed it back. Eat shit, Sandra. I looked at Kingston. Do the world a favor, and start with him.

Sandra gasped, and Kingston chuckled. I ripped off my badge and tossed it to the table, shoved back my chair and stood, walking out with my head held high.

Kingston cleared his throat. Have a good day, Ms. Clarke.

I held up my middle finger until I reached the elevator. Once the doors closed, I sank back against the wall and tried not to cry as reality set in. I was leaving early for the first time in seven years. The only silver lining was that I’d just dropped off the kids at their dad’s the week before. Josh and Hannah would be there for the summer, giving me time to figure out how to explain. I wasn’t sure there was a way to describe what had happened. I didn’t even understand. Sandra had been ready to offer me a cut in pay in exchange for keeping my job, and I’d accepted. I must have made Kingston angry in the elevator. He was never going to let me stay.

The elevator opened, and I made my way to the office, grabbing an empty copy paper box and setting it on my desk.

Oh no, Phillip said. I heard the rumors, but you’d be the last person I’d think would lose her job. That means none of us are safe. I’m so sorry, Morgan.

It’s just administration, I assured him. I took a breath and relaxed my shoulders. Ellen will be taking over for the time being. She’s going to do a great job, I said, smiling at her. I filled the box with seven years of picture frames and personal items while everyone crowded in my office, sniffing and saying their goodbyes. I hugged all of them, and then picked up my box.

Good luck, everyone. I pressed my lips together, trying not to cry. Margaret, Ashley, Peggy, Brad, and Dan—all varying ages, from all walks of life, and who had been part of the finance department family for varying lengths of time, were all tearing up. I’m going to miss you. Please keep in touch.

This is so unfair, Peggy said, dabbing her nose with a tissue that always stayed tucked in her watch. Her purple, tightly permed hair didn’t move as she shook her head. She and her husband, Bob, had been friends with my parents since grade school. That was the social model of Kills Cross, Kansas, our dusty, sleepy little town just southwest of Wichita. No one moved away, and if they did, it wasn’t for very long. My dad had just retired from the fire department, and Mom was a retired teacher. They were both looking for another income to get them through until they were too old to work, barely getting by just like everyone else. Peggy’s eyes reflected the worry I knew my parents would feel when I told them.

Please don’t tell Mom and Dad, I said to her.

She nodded, knowing the reason for my request.

Murmurings of agreements and farewells filled the office while I walked out to the main entrance, and then to my parking space where my tan Ford Taurus sat. Our relationship had lasted longer than my marriage. The tire treads were bare. I’d been putting off getting a new set to pay for Hannah’s baseball jersey, and for Josh’s soccer cleats. Now I hoped they would last until I found a new job.

I took a deep breath when I sat in the driver’s seat, feeling the hot summer air fill my lungs. The summer sun had baked the inside of my car for four hours, and when I twisted the ignition, stifling, stuffy air blew from the vents, making the dust motes scurry in the small space. Josh and Hannah liked to listen to Top 40, so I wasn’t sure why the radio was tuned to a