On the Other Side(30)
She was still in pain from the broken rib and instead of sitting at her desk, decided to work from her bed with the aid of her laptop. Unfortunately, even that was uncomfortable.
One of the things Damita enjoyed most about her position as an investment banker was interacting with her clients. She had a reputation for being at the top of the game when it came to pitching to clients and winning the deal. Her ability to come up with the best strategies was what built her career. Unfortunately, because she was home nursing her injuries, Underhill had suggested she use the time to run research and screens on a list of companies to help identify where there might be opportunities for new deals and transactions. It was a necessary component of their business, but it was the least favorite part of what Damita did. As far as she was concerned, it was grunt work. More than anything she wanted to be back at one hundred percent, so she could interact with her clients. Instead she was doing research and compiling pitch books. After putting together what she thought would be an impressive list of potential companies to do business with, she turned her attention to her S.W.O.T. analysis, which analyzed strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats. Next she would tackle the Comparable Company Analysis.
The other downside to working from home was that her assistant, Carol, wasn’t there to help her put together the PowerPoint presentation she was working on. Just when she thought the pain from her broken rib couldn’t get much worse and her eyes were about to cross from compiling data, she got a reprieve when the doorbell rang.
“Open up, miss. It’s your mother.”
“Mom!”
“I want you to know that the only reason I didn’t come by here yesterday, right after the funeral, is because I knew Carmella was going to beat me to it.”
“And, here I thought you talked her into coming,” Damita said.
“I was going to, but I knew I didn’t have to.” She glanced around as she walked in. “Are you alone?”
“Yes. Neal’s going to be away for a few weeks.”
“Is he now? Let me guess. Rehab?”
“Wow, how do you do that?”
“I’m going to tell you the same thing I used to tell you when you were a little girl; it’s because I’m old that I know so much, not in spite of it. Everything you kids are doing, I’ve experienced, in one way or another, throughout my lifetime.”
“You don’t have to tell me how wise you are. I already know.”
“And, don’t try to butter me up either. I came over here to talk some damn sense into you. I can’t believe that my intelligent, resourceful daughter is letting some man put his hands on her. Your father and I raised you to have more strength and courage than that. You’re going to pack your bags right now and come home with me.”
“Mom, I will, but not yet. You have to trust that I know what I’m doing, okay?”
“All I know is that one of your best friends died and instead of all of us being together to comfort each other you were here hiding out. I knew as soon as you walked in the funeral home what was going on. Let me see.”
No makeup to hide her bruises, Karen took her daughter’s face in her hands and touched all the places where Neal had left his mark. “This makes me so mad. I want to knock the shit out of that crazy motherfucker.”
“Mom!”
Damita hadn’t heard her mother use profanity often. When she was a kid she knew if her mother was using four-letter words it was time to step back.
“Don’t you Mom me. I’m glad your father is not here to see this. He would have been over here with Betsy ready to open a can of whoop-ass.”
As much as she wanted to keep her mother’s knowledge of her beating confined to the bruises on her face, she couldn’t help but laugh at what her mother had said and that’s when she grabbed her torso.
She immediately lifted her daughter’s shirt, to which Damita jumped.
“Baby, what did he do to you? Oh my God! Have you been to the hospital? Your ribs could be broken.”
“I’ve been to the hospital,” she lied.
It was the first time, as an adult, that she had ever lied to her mother. She hoped it would be the last.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
After weeks of recuperation and boredom, Damita finally returned to work. When she walked through the doors of the World Trade Center, she had the most overwhelming feeling of an imposter in her own life. Something as simple as coming to work seemed so foreign. She felt it immediately upon her return. She was little more than a shell of her old self. One of her colleagues, Wendy, noticed it immediately.
“Hey, Superstar!” Wendy greeted Damita, on her first day back.