Breaking Bella Ch. 01

I am back with a new effort in a different category from my first series. Hopefully some of the readers who enjoyed that series will still enjoy this story.

I want to add a trigger warning for mild body/weight shaming that takes place in this chapter, in case that's a major turn-off for anyone. The story in general deals with/will deal with abusive (physically, emotionally, and verbally), misogynistic undertones, so if that's not something that you enjoy, you may want to read something else instead. All that being said, I hope that you enjoy this opening chapter!

What had begun as a normal, hum-drum Friday had slowly turned into one of the worst days of Bella's life.

She'd gotten into work early, spent a half hour reorganizing her desk, then met with a client promptly at eight. At nine she had made coffee for her boss and his associates, then settled down to file paperwork until lunchtime, which she'd spent socializing with her coworkers. By two everything had been going swimmingly. Then her boss called her in for an unexpected meeting at three -- and announced that she was being laid off.

It was some of the worst news of her life. Architectural consultation, and more specifically architectural consultation at Francy & Francy, had been her dream job since a fateful career fair her freshman year of college had put it on the maps. She'd been overjoyed to land a junior position a little over a year ago. Since then, she'd worked her tail off, stayed late whenever her boss needed extra help around the office, befriended all her coworkers, and put her best foot forward when it came to her small but growing portfolio of clients.

But when it had come time for layoffs, which had come out of the blue as they often did, she found herself the first cut, due to an ambiguous 'lack of potential' that her boss laid out without much sympathy in his big glassy corner office. They were keeping the guy who'd started alongside her instead, and that, to her, said everything.

Now she was carting everything that had lived in her desk into the parking lot in a cardboard box, squinting into the July sun and fighting tears. She had no idea how she was going to afford rent this month. Getting into her Jeep, secondhand from her parents, she pulled the gold bracelet off her wrist and flung it into the passenger seat in frustration. When she'd bought it the week before, it had seemed like a perfectly safe purchase, a great treat for the woman who had everything. In retrospect, it had been completely frivolous, and that two thousand dollar expense was also about to see her evicted from the luxury apartment complex she'd moved into just three months ago. How was that going to look on her credit record?

She gritted her teeth. It was so unfair. She'd only just paid off the last of her credit card debt, and she'd been making good headway on her student loans ever since she'd gotten this job. Of course things had to start going wrong now, just when everything seemed to be going right for a change. She put her head down on the steering wheel and let out a frustrated sob, her tears darkening the collar of her blouse.

Then she remembered that she'd scheduled a date with Jamie, her boyfriend of two months, for that evening, and she sat up and found her phone to call him. There was no way she could go out. Not in a state like this.

And if her bad luck held, he'd take it as a sign of disinterest and cut the cord.

She listened to the dial tone, her heart sinking a little with every ring. She liked Jamie -- a lot -- and things had been progressing quickly with him. She thought he might be the one. That didn't change the fact that he sometimes made her feel bad about herself. It wasn't anything he did or said, exactly, just him. Nearly a decade older than her, he was a well-established banker who worked in a big glass building in the Financial District in Boston. She'd just been fired by the guy in the corner office. In his building, Jamie was the guy in the corner office. She couldn't help but feel less than sometimes.

Now his voice filled her ear.

"Hey, baby."

It was mostly a relief. She gave a big teary sniff to indicate the turn the day had taken.

"Baby, are you okay?" He immediately sounded concerned. That was one tick in the 'good Jamie' box. "You sound like you're crying. What's wrong, Bella?"

She sniffed again.

"I got laid off," she said. Her voice broke. "I'm sorry. I can't go out tonight. I'm a total mess."

"My God, of course you are. How could they do this to you? After all the hours you put in, all the slack you picked up..." He sounded angry for her. 'Good Jamie' was winning. "Listen, I'm not going out without you. I'm gonna swing by your place when I get off. I'll bring you tacos and a big bottle of tequila, and I'll commiserate with you. How's that sound?"

She gave a watery smile.

"Good. Especially the tequila part," she whispered. "Thanks, Jamie. You always know how to make me feel better."

"Anything for my baby girl," he said. "You're welcome. I'll see you around six thirty. Chin up, okay? I love you."

"I love you too."

"Bye."

"Bye."

He hung up before her. She dropped her phone into the passenger seat next to her discarded bracelet and flicked her key in the ignition. On the twenty minute ride home, she put down all the windows and cruised with music blaring out of the speakers. By the time she pulled into her complex parking lot, she felt surprisingly relaxed. Almost free. She didn't have to worry about going into work on Monday. Of course, she had much bigger fish to fry.

She stopped off in the mail room. The electricity bill had come. She went online and promptly paid it out of the few hundred dollars she had sitting in her account. It was probably better to settle up little things like that. She still had two weeks to make rent. Two weeks to raise three thousand dollars.

She was realizing now that she would have been in a bit of a pinch even with her job. But there were always shifts at the bar where she'd used to work in college. Her manager had said she was welcome back anytime, and that was how she usually rounded out rent in situations like this. Well, there hadn't exactly been a situation like this before, but she guessed it was worth a shot. Plopping down on her sofa, she called up Abigail.

"Hey, Abby," she said, trying to keep her voice as cheery as possible. "Any way you think I can make three K working over there before the end of the month?"

"Jesus, Bella." Abigail snorted. "I know you can be a little careless, but that's pretty bad. How'd you leave three thousand off the books? And as for your question, not till hell freezes over, unless you intend to strip for the customers."

"No, of course not," Bella said, heat spilling across her cheeks. She sighed, her heart sinking. "Well, it was worth a shot. What do you have for me, anyway?"

"Actually, we're completely booked," came the reply. "I hired a new girl last week. I meant to call you, to let you know there wouldn't really be any more opportunities, but I never got around to it. Well, you know now. I can let you know if someone bails."

"Yeah. Sure," Bella said. Her voice faded with every word. Worse, she could feel new tears welling up, and she hung up on Abigail before they could come out. That was bad, but crying in front of her ex-manager was worse in her books. It had been hard enough telling Jamie she'd been laid off, and he was the most important person in her life. She didn't want to tell another soul.

She heated up a frozen pizza in advance of his arrival with tacos and chugged a beer, the last of a six pack she'd bought earlier that week. Gee, had she really drunk five already? She counted bottles in the recycling. Yup, five.

It was five minutes before six thirty when there was a knock at her apartment door. She jumped up from the sofa, where she'd been pondering over the last two slices of pizza, and ran to open it. Jamie stood in the doorway, holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a big bottle of tequila in the other. She flung herself into his arms, beginning to cry.

"Okay, baby," he said. "I have to walk here."

"Walk with me," she said, her voice muffled by the collar of his suit jacket. He looked great, like he always did. She might have had a shit day, but she could still salivate over her gorgeous boyfriend.

They made it into the living area. He eyed the frozen pizza on its platter.

"I see someone got started without me."

She pouted at him.

"Don't make me feel fat. I had practically the worst day of my life," she said. She grabbed one of the remaining slices and shoved it into her mouth and kept talking with her mouth full. "I'm still hungry, see? I can eat the tacos too."

He might have rolled his eyes, but she wasn't completely sure. In the kitchen, he set down the brown paper bag, doffed his coat, and poured shots of tequila into her two mismatched shot glasses.

"Salt, please," she said. She'd followed him. "And lime."

"Anything for you."

She punched him in the shoulder.

"Don't be sarcastic. Was that sarcasm?"

"No, Bella, that was not." He swung around to face her. "I'm just waiting till the time comes when I find out the extent of your woes. Remember, like with the credit card story? I know I wasn't there, but I sure played a pivotal role in helping you pay them off. So am I supposed to expect now that you have six months' rent sitting in your savings account for emergencies like this?"

She hung her head, blood rushing to her cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. He patted her on the shoulder. "Everything will be taken care of."

"What do you mean by that?" she snapped, pulling away.

"Well, I mean, we've been together for a little while now, so I've got your back." He grinned at her. For a moment she hated him. He was using what had happened to her as an opportunity to flex his wealth. "Listen, baby, it's going to be all right. Actually, why don't you sit down? I have a little proposition to make that might make you feel better."

"A proposition?" she asked, her tone guarded. She sat.

He finished rimming her shot glass with salt and squeezed in a squirt of lime, then slid it across the table to her. She tossed it back immediately and relished the sting in her throat.

"A proposition," he said. He folded his hands in front of him on the table. "Because I know you'll feel uncomfortable if I cover your rent even for a month. But I already have my own place, of course you know that, you've been there, and there's plenty of space. Much more than this..." He cast his eyes around her apartment. "One bedroom. Don't you want to live in a penthouse, baby girl? I know that you like the finer things in life."

One of his hands moved across the table to play with a few strands of her long blonde hair. The other reclaimed her shot glass and refilled it.

"There you go, bottoms up," he said.

"You haven't drunk yours," she said. Her tongue felt stupid in her mouth.

"I don't want to until this is settled. A man has to think straight, you know?" He caressed her arm through the sleeve of her blouse. "Besides, if you come live with me, there won't be any rush to find a new job. You can wait for the right one to come along."

"But what if I want to pay you rent?" she asked stubbornly, staring at the second shot of tequila in front of her. She wanted it, badly.

"There's no point, baby," he said, his eyes resting on her. They were the color of burnished steel.

"Then there's no point." She let out a watery hiccup and downed her second shot. "Okay, fine, I accept your proposition. That doesn't take away the matter of this month's rent plus the lease breaking fee here."

"Let me take care of it." His hand skated down her arm to rest atop her own, warm and large and enfolding. "You can repay me once you find a new job, if you must. But you really don't have to, Bella. I love you. I want to take care of you."

"I love you too," she said grudgingly. It was true, but this was a hard pill for her to swallow, even from someone she'd loved. Ever since she'd graduated college, she'd prided herself on her self-sufficiency. Things had gotten rough here and there, but she'd always kept her head up and stayed afloat.

Now, she was going to be in debt to her boyfriend. She eyed her shot glass before pushing it back toward him for a second refill.

This time they drank together. As they lowered their glasses, he leaned over and kissed her, salt on her lips bleeding onto his. She felt the sting, tasted the tang of lime on his tongue. He kissed her hard, his lips bruising hers. At last she managed to break away from him, breathless.

"What was that?" she asked.

"What was that? I'm just glad that my beautiful girlfriend is going to be moving in with me," he said, grinning at her.

He reached for her again, but she shied away.

"Sorry, Jamie, I'm just not feeling it right now."

"It's okay. Hey, I'll come over to help you move your things tomorrow. Then you'll be an official resident at my place." He smiled, casting his eyes around her apartment. "Probably for the better you never had much time to furnish this place. We'll have to arrange to sell most of the bigger furniture. That couch, the bed, the table... Or I can have it put into storage for you."

"No. It's okay. We can sell it," she said, even though it stung. She wasn't very attached to the bed and the table, as they were hand-me-downs from her parents, but she had paid for the couch on her own. At the time, that had meant something to her.

She and Jamie ended up curling up on it and watching Netflix. A couple times, his hands strayed close to the neckline of her blouse or idly brushed against her ear or caressed her hip through her blue jeans, but she did her best to ignore it. He wasn't stepping over the line. Besides, this was the man who was essentially saving her ass. Without him, she would've been screwed. Was it such a terrible thing to let a few errant touches go unnoticed to keep him happy?

At nine, he announced it was time for him to go and gave her one long, lingering kiss at the door before slipping out. In the bathroom, Bella removed her makeup and drank about a gallon of water. Ordinarily she might not have worried about the hangover, but she was moving the next day. It was worth having a clearer head.

She was awakened by a loud knock on her apartment door. Knotting her bathrobe around her waist, she ran to get it and was about to greet the man standing in the doorway when he pushed right past her, along with several others. She watched them set about packing up her things, taking measurements of the furniture, carting all of it out. It was all she could do to make a pot of coffee for herself before they whisked the coffeemaker away, too.

These were movers, movers she'd never hired. She nursed on a glass of orange juice while waiting, phone in hand, for an explanation from Jamie, but none ever came -- not until the man himself appeared in the propped doorway of her now-spotless apartment, grinning like a devil. She loved and hated him in that moment.

"What do you think?" he asked, stepping in. He spread his arms wide. "Looks move-out ready to me. So can I drive you into the city? I already settled everything with your leasing office."

"How could you do that?" she asked. She felt stupid again. "They need my approval for everything."

"Oh, the manager's an old friend, it's a long story. He knows you okayed everything. Here you go..."

He put something into her hand. She looked down at it. It was a check for five hundred dollars, the amount of her security deposit, made out to her. But it was from his account, not from the apartment's. She shook her head, handing it back to him.

"I can't accept it. You settled everything, so keep it. Besides, how do I know they're giving me back the whole thing?"

"Trust me, baby," he said.

She shook her head again.

"No. Keep it."

"I'll put it in a special account for you, then," he said in a low voice, pocketing it. Then he offered her his arm, and she found herself being led out of the apartment she hadn't lived in quite long enough to make home. On the way to the garage, she found herself sniffling.

"I was so proud..." A tear trickled down her cheek, and she brushed it away on the back of her hand. "I should've stayed in that house with my friends. What was I thinking going out on my own?"

"You were thinking that you'd had a steady job for eight months, and what's the harm of having a place of your own?" Jamie massaged the back of her neck. "Relax, baby girl. Let's get you back to my penthouse. Should I schedule you for a spa day tomorrow? Mani, pedi, full body massage, and the works?"

Her bottom lip trembled.

"No," she said stubbornly. "I don't feel like self-care right now."

"Well, I feel like it." His fingers suddenly dug in on her shoulder, delivering a swift pinch. "Did I mention my home gym? I expect you'll be able to put in some time there, at least while you're on the job hunt. Here's my car."

She didn't have time to register whether his comment about the gym was some sort of backhanded insult aimed at her weight. It made her feel bad all the same. When she and Jamie had started dating two months ago, she'd been at her best. But it turned out juggling a demanding job and a demanding boyfriend had been a little too much when it came to sustaining a demanding gym routine, and her fitness had slipped. In the passenger seat of his Mercedes, she slumped, folding her arms over her chest. She wasn't fat. Sure, she'd put on a couple extra pounds. Half of it was his fault for bringing her takeout so often.

"I was thinking you could take a little break before you let the job hunt begin in earnest," he was saying from the driver's seat. "Reduce your stress, get yourself in a good place again, and then go out and get what you want. Doesn't that sound like a good idea, baby?"

She said nothing. But a couple weeks lounging around his luxury penthouse -- which he owned, not rented, mind you -- did sound like an attractive proposition. There was a jacuzzi and a massive flat screen TV. She could attend the spa in the comfort of his home.

"Yeah," she said at last, grudgingly. "I'll take a few weeks."

"I was thinking more of a few months, but whatever you want."

"A few months?" She snorted. "I'm not going to laze around forever, Jamie."

"No one said anything about laze. It'll be nice having a woman around the place as a permanent fixture." He flashed her a grin. "You could save me on my cleaning bill. Pick up the place a little when I'm away at work during the day. And how about some home cooking? I'm sure my chef would be willing to give you some lessons. And that gym. I already mentioned the gym."

She stared at him, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Is this a joke?" she asked at last.

"Yeah, of course, it's not like I'm expecting you to go all 1950s housewife on me," he said with another easy smile.

She relaxed. His car was luxuriously comfortable. Everything about his life was luxuriously comfortable. For a moment, she let her mind wander. What would it be like if she became Mrs. Jamie Hunter? Mrs. Jamie Hunter. Mrs. Bella Hunter. She thought it had a ring to it. Ha ha. It had only been two months. Why was she thinking about marriage?

Because the guy was an undeniable catch. All of her girlfriends had said so after she'd introduced him to them. He was such a charmer, and completely loaded. Great in bed, but also nice about being turned down in bed. He was a little bit kinky, so he had some crazy ideas. She was completely vanilla. He didn't resent her for it at all, nor did he go elsewhere to satisfy his urges. He was the perfect boyfriend, easy to keep on a leash.