But is it a Miracle?

Chapter 1- Thankless Existence

***Preface: Please be advised that this story contains many mature themes and ideas, depictions of different potentially triggering situations. Please read with caution, as I will not be adding trigger warnings as I feel, like many authors, that it can interrupt the flow of the story. Thank you!***

Marigold POV

I stared at the pile of work that just landed on my desk as my boss stood over me, frowning. Just an hour before it was time to clock out, too. I wish I could say this was abnormal, but it's practically a daily occurrence. I schooled my face carefully, reminding myself that overtime was better for my budget.

It wasn't as if I had a social life, these days. Rick Dempsey, my boss, breathed through his nose like he was a freaking bull, his brows furrowing as he waited for me to react badly. I had once or twice when I first started three years ago, and the man never let me forget it.

"Don't tell me it's too much for you, Marigold. I mean, you are getting old, so I know you aren't as fresh as some of our new hires, but at least you could try to seem energetic. Perhaps I need to look at my options, I mean, as CEO I need the best." It was a refrain he'd used more times than I could count, despite the fact that technically I could sue him for age discrimination. I didn't. He's not the only one. I kept applying for jobs and heard excuse after excuse that was always a very creative way of saying I was too old.

You're overqualified for the job, they said. Old.

Or being penalized because my controlling ex-husband didn't let me work for fifteen years.

Being forty with an entry-level job is no fun, let me tell you.

Then again, I didn't have to marry Colton Caswell, but I was an i***t, by my own estimation. My only excuse is that new love hides faults until you're deep into it. Sometimes, it's already too late to get yourself away from it. The person has you locked down so tightly and cut off from everyone, that it's very difficult.

Not to mention, in my case, my family loathes me and doesn't leave the option to ask for help. I'm too fat, too stupid, too naive, too slow, too whatever they dislike at the moment. They loved Colton, and made sure I understood it was my fault he left me, and that they were so disappointed that my marriage failed, but at the same time, they'd known it would happen.

I mean, who could possibly love an ugly, fat failure like me?

Looking at my boss, I smiled. The most fake smile that ever existed, but a smile nonetheless. I patted the massive pile of papers on my desk, trying to be as bouncy as I could without drawing the old lecher's eyes to my D-cups. This was part of why he gave me such s**t all the time, I always declined his s****l hints. He never came out and said stuff straight enough to get him sued, but I knew what he was trying to do.

I guess he figured a forty-year-old divorcee like me, with no boyfriend and no kids, was fair game and probably desperate enough to accept whatever crumbs of affection he wanted to toss my way. Thankfully, as much as he gave me s**t in a variety of ways, he knew he couldn't fire me and find anyone else in this building that could do what I did. My role took "other duties as assigned" to the extreme.

"Of course, Sir. I'm happy to stay and finish." He narrowed his eyes like he didn't believe me. I shrugged. "It may be Friday and tomorrow is Christmas, but you know I don't have anyone waiting for me." He snorted, then lifted a shoulder. Oh no, here it comes.

"Well, my wife and kids are away with her sister this year, so... I could probably delegate this out to someone else if you want to keep me company." His tone was smarmy and slimy and made my skin crawl, but my smile did not slip.

"That's very generous of you, Sir." Always compliment before the letdown, makes them gloat anyway. "However I think it's important that I don't shirk my duties and of course, get this all done today."

He sighed in disappointment as his eyes lingered on my chest. Again.

Then he waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine, fine, if the job means that much to you... If you change your mind you can always call me." He said unctuously, forcing me to suppress an all-too-natural shudder. I just nodded, and the man swept out of the office, obviously leaving early for the holiday while I was stuck here till god only knows when. I sighed and got started. Hopefully, I wasn't going to be walking outside too late. My tiny studio was just a few blocks away from our downtown Tacoma office, but as with most major cities, walking around after dark alone just wasn't recommended.

As much as I'd like to think criminals could give people a break during the holidays, it's unfortunately the opposite. I lived next to a building that housed a bar. A very nice, upscale bar. One with a dress code, even. As I worked quickly through the paperwork, I decided as a Christmas gift to myself, I was going to go there after work and get smashed.

I rarely splurged, but after the last three years of days just like this, and the wave of loneliness hitting me harder than usual this Christmas, I determined that trying to forget about it all for a while was my best bet. I'm not really a drinker, and although weed is legal here in Washington State, I've never really dabbled. I was the quiet, smart kid in school, and kept to myself. I was the same in college, too worried about wasting my parents' payment of my tuition to socialize.

Looking back on it, I should have at least tried to have friends in my study group so that Colton didn't just... sweep in, and fool the pants off me for years. As I distractedly processed the work in front of me, my mind wandered to the fifteen years I wasted on a man that to my mind, barely qualified as human. He was handsome, I guess, though with my eyes fully open to more than the man in front of me, he was mediocre.

Blonde hair, brown eyes, 5'8" though he tried to say he was 5'9", medium build. He worked as an architect, so he made decent money, and was two years older than I was. We met at a post-grad celebration. I think he was actually there on the prowl for a naive woman to take advantage of. I married him after just a month of dating. I made him wait for s*x, which pissed him off quite a bit, but he was my first. Even as inexperienced as I was, I understood he was not good at it. My only orgasms were at my own hands.

I got very good at faking.

Faking orgasms, faking smiles, faking everything really. He had control of everything. I had no car, no job, no friends, and rarely saw my family. Not that they cared. My parents may have paid my college tuition, but that was as far as their love and care went. The rest was bare minimum, and they were thrilled for someone, anyone, to take me off their hands. Colton's family had been just as bad, so I just stayed home. It had pissed him off, resulting in some pretty terrible interactions.

I was a prisoner in our apartment, by his will and my avoidance of everything else. Enough beating myself up over the past though, I didn't need any of them. I'd gotten myself some counseling, but it was still a struggle not to buy into the bullshit.

I sighed as I finished the last item. I had started at five PM, with my scheduled time off at six PM, and it was now eight PM. Ugh.

I kept my head on swivel as I walked the three blocks to my studio over the florist shop next to Sanguinity. I sighed as I entered my apartment, looking around my meager belongings, hesitating. Did I really want to go next door and drink myself stupid? Was this all that my life was made of? I knew at forty, the likelihood of having kids was pretty much zero, and I had not been permitted to freeze my eggs. I guess I could adopt, plenty of kids needed a good home. But could I even do that with this tiny little space and no partner?

Ignoring the part of me that was whining to just stay home and veg, crying into my green tea ice cream, yet again, I walked to my closet and flipped through my stuff. I settled on a dress I'd ordered thinking it would be longer and work-party appropriate, but ended up being mid-thigh on my 5'8" frame. Maybe my curves made it shorter too. Full D-cups and a lush, round ass with a tiny, nipped in waist, yeah, definitely could have impacted the length.

It was stretchy, clinging to my every curve in a stretchy deep green velvet. It had long sleeves, but the sweetheart bust line to the neck was a sheer tonal mesh. I don't know why I ever thought it would be adequate for a professional party, but maybe I just really liked it and convinced myself it was right. I'd even bought platform ankle strap sandals in a matching green velvet.

I couldn't wear a bra with it, so I just put on a silky green thong. Panty lines were going to be obvious if I wore anything else. I touched up my basic makeup, refreshing and darkening my eyeliner slightly and adding a shimmery bronze lip gloss before tossing my hair into a high ponytail that still hung to my waist in waves. I grabbed my green velvet wristlet, wrapping it securely in place before steeling myself for a throng of young people.

People young enough to be my kids. Ugh. Don't think about it, Marigold.

I entered the bar, marveling at how elegant they'd managed to make it look. It was two stories, with a VIP balcony that was outside of my pay grade. Everything was in dark gray marble, dark wood, and gold toned metals. The massive chandelier of hanging teardrops carried a warm ivory tone, making the place much more welcoming. I walked to the long bar along the right side wall, noting that there were a few booths, tables, and stools available with a small menu of appetizers.

Very nice.

I sat on the empty bar stool at the end, crossing my legs as I people-watched while I waited for the bartender to come and take my order. I kept my mask of indifference up, keeping most of the young men from approaching. I smirked when the bartender, maybe thirty, cocoa-skinned man, leaned across the bar and smiled.

"What can I get you beautiful?" He didn't need to be like that for a tip, I appreciated efficiency above flirting.

"A Negroni please, and hmmm... an order of jalapeño poppers." He grinned and nodded as I passed over my card. "I'd like to open a tab." His grin widened, and I sighed.

"I'm Mike, and I've got your tab all ready to go." He said when he arrived a few minutes later with my initial order in hand.

The poppers were delicious, and I sipped my Negroni happily until I felt eyes on me. I subtly shifted in my seat to allow a wider view of the place, but couldn't locate the source.

Someone had eyes on me, the question was, who?