The Price of the Game: A Novel

By Eva Fischer-Dixon

Addison Brooke Theron considered herself a fortunate woman. She had a great career as an immigration attorney, a loving and successful husband, and two beautiful children. Unexpectedly, her entire life was shattered one rainy night with unspeakable consequences. After almost a year of trying to recover physically and mentally, she returned to work at her friends law firm. No longer her psychiatrist, Dr. David Cooper confessed his feelings for Addison, but she was not quite ready to date yet. Her life changed when she met a group of Navy SEALs in a bar owned by a friend of her colleague. One of the Navy SEALs, Lieutenant Logan Matthews, invited Addison for dinner, and it was evident that they had an overwhelming physical chemistry. When she finally confided in Logan about her own tragic past, another tragedy was about to be unleashed when Logan disappeared during a mission in South America. Addison travels to Bogota, Colombia, with a client and makes a surprise discovery in a jungle village that would endanger her life if she could not outsmart the head of a notorious drug cartel, a relative of her client. She succeeded but paid a heavy price. She became engaged to Dr. David Cooper, who was always there for her, but after meeting with Logan again, Addison must make the ultimate decision between the two men who loved herthe man who offered her stability for life or the man who offered her undeniable passion but an uncertain future. It all comes to a life-altering decision during an award ceremony where Addison is being honored at the Coronado Island Naval Base.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514474242

Eva Fischer-Dixon

I came into this troubled world during the early morning hours of June 17, 1950, in the city of Budapest, Hungary. I was the first and last child of my 41-year-old mother and my father who was 45 years old at the time of my birth. As I did not know any better, I could not possibly understand that we were living in poverty, as I was growing up with loving parents and there was always a bite to eat. My childhood was poor and saddened with tragedies. As a six-year-old child I witnessed the bloody 1956 revolution and received the first taste of true prejudice by those of whom I thought liked us, yet turned against my family. That tragedy did not match the untimely death of my beloved father when I was not yet seven years old, on February 14, 1957. My mother remarried in 1959 and our financial situation was upgraded from poverty to poor. After finishing elementary school I made a decision to earn money as soon as possible to ease our financial situation and I enrolled in a two-year business college (high school diploma was not required). I received my Associate Degree in 1966 and I began to work as a 16-year-old certified secretary/bookkeeper. During the same period I began my high-school education, which I completed while working full-time and attending night school. I discovered my love for writing when I was 11 years old after a movie that my childhood friend and I saw in the movie theater. We were not pleased with the ending and Steven suggested that I should write a different ending that we both liked. Voila, a writer was born. With my family’s encouragement, I entered a writing contest given by a youth oriented magazine and to my genuine surprise, I won second price. My desire to live in a free country and to improve my life was so great, that in 1972, leaving everything, including my aging parents behind, I managed to escape from Hungary during a tour to Austria, (then) Yugoslavia and Italy. I spent almost nine long months in a rat infested refugee camp, located Capua, Italy, while I waited for official permission to immigrate to the country of my dreams, to the USA. In 1975 I met and married a wonderful man, my husband Guy. Thanks to his everlasting patience, he assisted me in my task of learning the English language. He is truly my partner for life and I remain forever grateful to him for standing by me in some tough times. It is difficult for me to describe my love for writing. I cannot think of a bigger emotional joy for an author than to see a published novel in somebody’s hand and to see a story come alive on the screen. I yearn to experience that joy.

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Copyright © 2016 by Eva Fischer-Dixon.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/23/2016

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Contents

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Dedication

I wish to dedicate this book to the courageous men and women of the Armed Forces and to their families

PROLOGUE

I STARED DOWN at the scale in front of my feet as if it was a smelly, dead animal that needed to get rid of. In reality I just had to step on that darn thing.

Left foot, right foot, it is that simple, I told myself as I stood in front of the scale. I slowly responded as my brain told me but my heart objected, and then I looked down. I took a deep breath and finally smiled, I lost another two pounds, that would make 122 pounds altogether. It has been one hell of a year, or as my mother used to say, I would not wish this to my enemy, only to those who do not believe it.

I picked up the clothes from the bathroom floor and dropped them into the laundry basket that we kept in the walk in closet. Returning to the bathroom, I checked the temperature of my bathwater and added more hot water before I submerged into the foamy and fragranced water. It was my time of the day to relax and it was my time to reflect on my life.

My name is Addison Brooke Theron, but everybody calls me Addy and this is my life’s story.

CHAPTER ONE

I COULD NOT feel any happier or more proud then when I looked at my gorgeous husband of seven years while he managed to charm everyone around him. Many of my friends asked me if I ever got jealous of him. I usually laughed when I replied that no, I never did . Jim and I met during our last year of college at UCLA and we were on a blind date with someone else. It went eerily bad and as we both made our great escape, we ended up having coffee and pastry in a nearby coffee shop.

We dated through the entire last year of college and when we graduated, we parted ways. He got a job at a law firm in Boston, Massachusetts, and I was hired in Los Angeles at an up and coming law office. I loved my job. I specialized in immigration law and it goes without saying, a place like San Diego was a perfect location for that genre.

One of the worst snowstorms in New England’s history waited for me as I arrived in Boston to participate in litigation. I could not believe my eyes when the attorney who represented the client was none other than James Theron. We could hardly contain our excitement during the meeting. When it was over and only two of us were left in the conference room, Jim locked the door and I fell into his arms with a desire that was dormant for over a year. He picked me up and sat me down on the conference table and within minutes, he was inside me with the hunger of a starved animal.

There was not much we could say afterwards other than I still love you and it was meant to be, but best of all, Jim asked me if I would marry him. Who could resist an offer like that after such a passionate hello?

The firm I worked with hired him without any questions after I told them that I trusted him one hundred percent, and that he was at the top of our class in law school. He did not disappoint anyone, until Jim decided to join the San Diego District Attorney’s office as an Assistant DA, and two years later, he became the District Attorney. My colleagues were disappointed about his departure but they understood that he wanted to leave the firm to do a greater service to the public. I personally did not care one way or another, I loved him, and to me he was nothing more than a great husband and a sensational lover. I would have been just as happy if he were a garbage collector, as long as he was sitting by my dining room table and kept me satisfied at night.

Eventually I began to travel a great deal to countries that otherwise I would have not visited, such as Haiti, the Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Honduras and of course Mexico. Since my specialty was immigration law, I often travelled to those countries on fact-finding missions. After each of those journeys I could not be happier when I reached the passport check at the airport and I was welcomed home. Unfortunately it was part of my job, and as I mentioned I loved it. I always loved to help people, especially those who were asking for political asylum. I learned things about the savagery of human nature, the suffering of what some people had to endure by the hands of greedy and cruel people for almost absolutely no reason other than because someone had given them the power to do so.

At the end of our third year of marriage and being sick in my stomach for days, and also being dizzy for some time, I found out that I was pregnant. All the way home from the doctor’s office I thought about how to break the news to Jim. I stopped by a baby clothes and toy store and bought one cute pink dress and a baby boy outfit with the San Diego Padres logo on it. Since it was late in the afternoon and I didn’t have a chance to prepare any dinner, I picked up some of Jim’s favorite food from Olive Garden and went home.

I felt like I was floating from combination of happiness and anxiety as I set the table in a holiday fashion, with tall candles in the middle on both sides of a flower arrangement. I placed our special plates and silver ware on the table and finished with the preparation, I sat down in the living room and waited for Jim.

He got home at the usual time and I welcomed him with a big smile and open arms. He looked kind of puzzled when he noticed the fancily set table. Did I forget your birthday or our anniversary? He asked in a guilty tone of voice. I shook my head. What then?

I took his hand and pulled him into the living room where I handed him the bag with the two-baby outfits. Which one would you like? I inquired.

Jim took out both outfits and just stared at them for a brief moment, and then a big smile appeared on his face. He put the clothes down, stepped in front of me and hugged me tight. I love you, he said and kissed me. I don’t care, I just want a healthy baby, our baby. Tears rushed into my eyes and I knew then that I was the luckiest person alive, having him as my husband.

The months passed by in anticipation, as my stomach grew bigger, my workload got lower; still, I kept up with court appearances until my water broke while we waited for a verdict on a deportation case. One of my colleagues rushed me to the hospital and called Jim and my doctor in the process of crazy driving. Between me screaming from the intense labor pain that was coming faster and faster, and the screaming at her not to kill us with her driving like a maniac, by some miracle we made it to the hospital in the nick of time. As soon as I was put in bed, the baby was ready to enter this troubled world.

Jim got there less than five minutes before the doctor did. All the preparations and taking classes on child delivery went out the window when after pushing a couple of times, our son rushed into the capable hands of Doctor Keats. He immediately began to complain in a form of a loud cry, as if he wanted to say, I want to go back to the safety of my mom’s belly.

He was a beautiful and perfect little baby with dark hair and blue eyes, a mirror image of his handsome father. Jim looked at me after our baby was placed in my arms and for the first time in my life, for the first time in our marriage, I saw tears in his eyes. Our son, he whispered. Our Christopher Aaron, he murmured the name that we picked if the baby was a boy.

Since there were no complications, I was released the following day and we returned to our home as a family. I was torn between returning to work and to leave our son with a stranger, regardless of how qualified that person was. That did not sit well with us. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that I would rather give up my career and raise our child then to go back to work. I don’t want to be misunderstood, my work and what I was doing was very important. I was not thinking about abandoning my life’s work, to help people who deserved to be in this country. I was planning to establish a website where I could give free advice to those who seek assistance with immigration related problems.

When baby Christopher, or as we called him Chris turned six months old, with the assistance of a computer expert from my former law office, I finally went online and eventually it became a popular site where foreign nationals could address their immigration related questions or ask for assistance of other areas in a few different languages.

Our life couldn’t have been anymore perfect. Jim worked long hours as a District Attorney, but he always made an effort to come home for dinner and to spend the evening with our baby boy and me. Sure, there were times when he came home and he still needed to work on some of the upcoming cases, but as a fellow attorney, I had a full understanding what he was going through.

Even though I did not consider myself religious, I thanked God quite often for giving us a good life. We didn’t have any financial problems, we lived in a beautiful home in Coronado, near San Diego, Jim was successful and was liked by everyone, when I found out that I was pregnant again. I was glad but less than enthusiastic, as I had gained a lot weight while I was pregnant with Christopher, and I finally just dropped those extra pounds when I broke the news to a hilariously happy husband of mine. To my added complaint about another weight gain, he assured me that I will get my fabulous form back again after our second baby’s birth.

Yes, I should have been more grateful and in a way I was, and Christopher was already two years old. In many ways it was perfect timing to have another baby. I was healthy and happy, despite my griping about the weight gain. After nine long months of pregnancy, which seemed a lot longer at times, our baby girl, Anne Marie was born. When we thought that Christopher was a beautiful baby, Anne Marie looked like a miniature goddess. She was so incredibly beautiful that all the nurses and even some of the expectant mothers who were waiting to deliver their babies went to see her in the nursery.

Once again we went home the following day and Jim somehow managed to take a week off to give me a hand. When he had to return to work, my mother, a retired nurse herself moved in for a couple of months. She lived in Novato, the northern part of California in a small town. Since my father passed away years earlier, we wanted her to move in with us, but being an independent spirit that she was, she declined our offer to relocate.

Jim’s parents were unfortunately no longer with us, and we often said that they would have been very happy to see their grandchildren, but it was not meant to be. It was truly a shame, as our children would have brought joy in their lives, as it was brought into ours. Her big brother totally adored Anne Marie and Chris constantly wanted to hold her, which we allowed but only with supervision, he was way too young to actually pick her up. Usually when the family settled down in the living room to watch television, mostly cartoons of course, Chris would sit next to me and just then I would put Anne Marie on his lap. She loved him and her beautiful little face lit up when she saw her brother. They talked baby talk to each other to our great pleasure.

Although it was at time hard for us, there were social commitments and we both dreaded to leave our children with a baby sitter, who of course was well known to us. So there we were, socializing with the Mayor’s family, he was running for re-election again, and as Jim was talking to the people around him, ours eyes connected in a certain way that only we knew what it meant. We only wanted to be with each other and to forget about all the politically correctness.

We had been married for seven years, Chris was already four and into everything, Anne Marie was almost three, the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen and I am not just saying this because I was her mother. When we went shopping, total strangers would tell me that my daughter was beautiful that she should be entered a beauty contest, which was far from anything that we wanted for our children.

Jim finally reached me as the party was slowing down. I think it’s time to make our departure, he announced. I think we have been away long enough from our children.

That is how he was, my husband who was the love of my life and along with my children the center of my universe. I am certain that is the way he also saw it. Sure, he was busy with work but he was right there when the children got their first shots, when they were sick and even on occasions when only one parent presence was required. He wanted to be as much a part of the children’s everyday life as I was who did not work outside the house.

Our car was brought around the Mayor’s mansion’s entrance and Jim held the door for me to get in. It was raining and we all welcomed the much-needed precipitation. I got into the passenger side of the car as quickly as I could despite the high heel sandals I was wearing. Jim laughed as he ran around the car to get into the driver’s seat. I smiled at him just before he turned the key in the ignition. He leaned toward me and then he kissed me. Let’s get the kids, he said cheerfully.

The babysitter’s house was a fifteen-minute ride away and we made it no time. The traffic was not too bad yet, but we knew that as it was getting into the late night hour. The roads will become more filled with cars when people left the movie theaters, bars and nightclubs. Joan, our baby sitter let us in, she was the wife of one of the bailiffs at the courthouse who often did babysitting for employees’ children as an income supplement.

While Jim put the children into their seats and buckled them up in the backseat where they were located, I paid Joan and we said our goodbyes. We both told her that we did appreciate her time as well, she always took excellent care of our children, although it did not happen that often that we employed her services.

By the time we left Joan’s house, the rain was coming down real hard and the windshield wipers were working full speed. I kept looking at the backseat where the children were secured in their childproof seats and watched them as they peacefully slept. I turned back to Jim who was concentrating on driving and I remained quiet, not wanting to distract his attention, that is the way we both preferred.

At one of the busy intersections we got a red light and we stopped right before the line on the road, not that there were any pedestrians on the sidewalk. The light turned green and Jim gave an extra second or two just in case some nuts tried to make the red light. When it was determined that it was safe, he started the car and we were just about half way through the busy intersection when I could see bright lights coming right at me. I screamed and my eyes met with Jim’s and I saw terror in his eyes. A huge bus rammed our car and pushed our car into a second car, a big black SUV.

Despite the fact that we were wearing seat belts, and that both of our airbags inflated, I banged my head with full force into the side window that was shattered into hundreds of little pieces. Before I lost consciousness, I saw Jim’s eyes staring at me but there was a lot of blood on his face. He didn’t blink and I blacked out in a gracious unconsciousness.

CHAPTER TWO

T HE FIRST THING I remembered after regaining consciousness was that I tried to blink my eyes. I thought that I was blind because when I tried to open my eyes, there was darkness around me. She is awake, I heard a familiar voice and it belonged to my mother. She slowly took the hand towel off my eyes. Hello, sweetheart, how are you feeling? She asked. I put the towel on your eyes so the light would not bother you when you woke.

My throat felt very dry and when I tried to answer her, I sounded like a frog croaking. She moistened my lips and I watched as she held a teaspoon with crushed ice. Would you like some ice? She asked and I nodded.

The tiny chunks of ice felt good in my mouth and they melted very quickly. My children, what happened to my children? I asked recalling what happened. Where is Jim?

I must say that one thing my mother was never able to do, and it was lying. I took one look at her face and my entire life fell apart. Her face