A Beautiful Thought (The Beautiful Series)

Copyright © 2014 by Alicia Rae

All rights reserved.

Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen,
Okay Creations

Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley,
Unforeseen Editing

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 the written permission of the author, except
for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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

Visit my website at
www.aliciaraeauthor.com

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

Epilogue

Beautiful Ties Excerpt

Dear Readers

Acknowledgments

To Mom and Dad,

Thank you for giving your three kids unconditional love and guidance each and every day, especially when we need it the most, for helping each of us strive to become the best we can possibly be, and for your never-ending faith and support in us that we can achieve anything we set our hearts and minds to.

I love you, Mom and Dad.

Always.

All it takes is one idea, one thought, one spur-of-the-moment decision to change a life…forever.

The past cannot be altered in anyway—only the future.

~Gail~

I was one of those people who always wanted to live an organized yet simple life.

From the summer after my sophomore year in high school, I’d known I would never give up until I was a physical therapist.

My determination had come from a horrible car accident that occurred three months after getting my driver’s license. A man had illegally made a left turn in front of me while I was going approximately fifty-five miles per hour. From that very second, I’d known I wouldn’t be able to stop in time, yet my natural instincts had kicked in, and I’d slammed on my brakes. From the very first moment of contact with his car, I’d closed my eyes and prayed I would be okay.

The impact had been so loud with a nail-on-the-chalkboard sound of metal grinding against metal. I would never forget that awful shrieking sound.

I’d later found out that slamming on the brakes was worse than just hitting the other car at full speed—well, for my knee at least. An orthopedic surgeon had removed sixty percent of my damaged cartilage, and he’d said I still had irreparable lesions all the way down to the bone.

And so the physical therapy had begun. I’d had to suffer through three grueling days a week at the office with additional exercises at home twice a day. On the days when I’d felt like giving up, my therapist had pushed me harder, saying I would suffer ten times worse if I did not keep my surrounding knee muscles strong enough to support my cartilage injury.

I’d lost my softball scholarship due to the second surgery I had to have six months later to help regenerate new cartilage.

Then, to top it off, everything had gone wrong in my lawsuit at the time. I could only afford a public defender, and I’d ended up walking away with nothing but a boatload of medical bills because my car insurance had maxed out.

Going through such an ordeal at a young age was the biggest test in my life. It was an extremely hard lesson to learn, yet to this day, I believed it had made me work harder in every aspect of my life. I was extremely grateful that some good had come from it.

I had pushed my way through college, my past keeping me motivated, and I’d earned my physical therapy degree. I specialized in helping football players recuperate from all types of injuries, so they could maintain their top performance throughout the season.

I let out a deep breath after remembering that particularly trying time during my younger years, and I continued to clean up my exam room after a long day packed with patients.

Once finished, I headed over to my boss’s office. Dr. Greg Donahue was the owner of Fit ’N’ Healthy Rehabilitation Center, and I admired and respected him profoundly. Two years ago, he had taken me under his wings and given me a remarkable opportunity even though I was fresh out of college. He had truly been another blessing in my life.

I knocked on his partially opened door and then peeked my head inside. “Hey, Greg.” I smiled over at him. “I’m just letting you know that I’m going to head out for the night.”

“You made good timing this evening.” He beamed my way, removing his reading glasses. Then, his face suddenly looked gloomy and sad. “Hey, do you have a minute? I was hoping to speak with you about something tonight.”

“Of course,” I said in a low tone. I slowly ambled into his office. I took a seat in front of him. “Is everything all right?”

“No,” he answered gravely, looking disturbed. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“Oh,” I murmured in dismay. “Anything I can do to help out?”

“Gail, I’m afraid I have to”—he sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair—“temporarily cut your hours back. I can only have you here about thirty-five hours a week max until I get things back on track.” He lowered his head, shaking it. “I’m so sorry, Gail.”

I gawked directly at my boss sitting across the desk. My mind was reeling, and I was at a loss for words. That was fifteen hours less on each
weekly paycheck instead of my regular fifty or more hours—not to mention, the loss of overtime pay.

I ran the rough ballpark of numbers in my head while fidgeting with my hands in my lap, and then I recounted all my bills a second time to double check my numbers. I would never be able to make my monthly rent, living expenses, and three student loan payments with my hours decreased so heavily. I wouldn’t even come close.

Plus, when I’d received my promotion a few months ago, I had spoken with my parents, and I’d upped my financial commitment to help with my sister, Caroline’s, medical expenses for her autism. Because of that, she could meet with a therapist every week, and she could also get additional special help she needed with her education outside of the public school system. Of course, my parents had never expected me to help, but Caroline was my sister, and I loved her deeply. I would do anything in my power to help give her the best of what she could possibly have in life.

Even with my savings, I would be in over my head without overtime on my paycheck. My heart sank in my chest.

Crap…

I forced myself back into the present moment. With a few blinks, I somehow managed to close my gaping mouth.

“But I thought business was going well,” I finally murmured in confusion. “You just gave me a promotion a few months ago, and we’ve been picking up new patients.”