His voice had a sharp edge to it that made her jump off the armrest and rush into the bedroom. There he stood, steely-eyed and buck naked in front of the mirror. He presented himself as if he wanted her to admire him, using his nakedness like a weapon. There was no doubt he was in an aggressive mood. Her heart took residence in her throat, leaving her with the sour taste of fear.
The only way she knew how to soften his mood was by not making matters worse. Barbara and her parents would arrive soon from their weekly granny-day. This was not the time to make a scene. It would horrify them to find out how her marriage balanced on the cusp of breaking up. She opened the drawer of the tallboy and pointed to the T-shirt on top.
“It’s in the drawer.”
“Thanks. Look at you. I hope nobody came to the door today. You look as if we can’t afford clothes. Put something on. What if someone drops by unexpectedly?” He frowned at her and shook his head. “I thought I earned enough for you to afford a regular dress.”
She went to the wardrobe and took out a white summer dress. “You are earning enough. It was so hot.” She hesitated to strip in front of him. Taking off her clothes and seeing the admiring gleam in his eyes used to be fun. Nowadays that gleam accompanied things she found objectionable.
She turned away from him, dropped her sarong, and slipped her dress over her head. “Anna returned from Europe. The girls are having a barbecue tonight. I’d like to go.”
“Wasn’t she expected to stay until February?” He kept admiring himself in the mirror.
“Yes, she came home early. Guess why.”
“Don’t play games. You know I hate that.”
“She’s pregnant. She got knocked up in Italy.”
He fist-pumped and grinned, showing his perfect white teeth. “I knew it. Misses I-am-better-than-you is nothing but a slut.”
Thea cringed as if he’d slapped her in the face. “Don’t say that. It’s mean. You know Anna isn’t a slut. Can we go tonight?”
“Sure. I’d like to see precious Anna taken down a peg.”
She eyed him from the top of his five-foot-eight head down to his toes. Where had all that nastiness come from? Had it always been there, and she just didn’t see it? Didn’t want to see it? He was only an inch taller than her and hated it when she wore high heels. Perhaps she would today… just because! “I see you’re in a foul mood.”
“I’m not in a bad mood. While you were gallivanting around with your friends, I worked all day. By the way, I have to work next Saturday.” He zipped up his jeans as he left the bedroom. In the hallway, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
“Bring us a gin and tonic I’m on the porch.”
Chapter Six
Thea found Graham minutes later on the porch, stretched out on a sun lounger with his eyes closed.
“Do you have to work every Saturday? We never have time to do something as a family. When was the last time we took Barbara to the zoo or went away up north for the weekend?”
He opened his eyes and studied her as if trying to find something in her features he hadn’t discovered before. Then he put his sunglasses back on and sat up.
“I want to move out of this place.” At the word place, his face twisted into a loathing mask. “That means I need to work more and harder than other partners of your father’s firm—without you complaining all the time and making things difficult.”
She stared at him. Back when they first met, she only had to see his well-built body, and she would melt into his arms, gazing into his blue eyes in admiration. But no matter how hard she searched inside for a tender feeling; she couldn’t find one any longer. Neither could she find a hint of caring or compassion for her in his eyes.
This had to stop. She deserved better than this marriage and he probably did too. What did Christine always say? “Marriage is a team sport. It’s a mutual project and both partners are responsible for its success.” At some point, they’d allowed their marriage to slide off the rails and neither of them cared enough to do something about it.
“You don’t care about me anymore, do you? Whatever we once had died a long time ago. I don’t understand how that happened, but it has. Wouldn’t it be better if we went our separate ways? Then you wouldn’t have the burden of Barbara and me holding you back and we’ll all be happy.”
He leaned forward and placed his glass on the table with slow and deliberate movements. He squinted at her. “Listen, I’ll only say it once. You are my wife. Barbara is my daughter. I won’t hear another word about a divorce.”
“But don’t you see? We are not good together.”
“We are perfect as long as you stay in line. Don’t make me resort to harsher methods. If you even try to leave me, you’ll never see Barbara again. I will make sure of that. Nobody messes with what’s mine.”
“What do you mean by you’ll make sure of that?“
“Just that. And don’t think for a moment I don’t mean it.”
The icy tone in his voice left her speechless. She gaped at him. Never before had he threatened her. And this time she had no illusions. He’d threatened her. Numb from the shock, she looked down and straightened her dress. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself as a hunted animal surrounded by a pack of murderous dogs. Keep calm. Don’t let him see he scored a direct hit. Don’t show fear. Most of all don’t show fear.
She left the porch with slow, measured steps, even though her impulse was to run. She was halfway through the living room when the front door slammed open, and her daughter staggered towards her on her chubby toddler legs. Tears shot into her eyes, and she bent down, pressing the child to her chest.
“Sweetie give Mummy a hug. I missed my baby. Did you have a good time with Grandpa and Grandma?”
Barbara’s little arms clasped around her neck and she planted many little kisses on Thea’s face. Then she stuck her nose up. “I’m not a baby. I’m a big girl, Grandpa says. Old enough to have a pussy cat.”
“Not again.” Thea let out a deep sigh. “Dad, you didn’t promise her a cat?”
Eugene Cartwright had reached them and ruffled the hair of his granddaughter. “Yes, you are a big girl, Sweet Pea. But granddad told you that you could always play with Buttercup when you visit us. She’ll love it when you stroke her on your lap.” He turned to Thea. “No, I promised nothing, but the little princess is very persistent. I wonder where she’s got it from.” He laughed and winked at his daughter.
Thea came up from the floor and hugged her father. “Other than that, did you have any problems, Dad?”
“None. As always, Barbara was easy to have around.” He kissed Thea’s cheek, leaned back, and let his gaze wander over her face. “Is everything okay? You look troubled.”
“I’m fine, Dad. It’s the heat. It’s killing me.”
Much to her relief, her mother entered the house at that moment, carrying a big beach bag full of Barbara’s spare clothes, toys, and her favorite cuddly blanket, without which the child wouldn’t go anywhere.
“We bought her a new soft toy.” Elizabeth Cartwright held up Eeyore. “We had to after we’d read to her from Winnie-the-Pooh.” She laughed and hugged her daughter.
“Come through, I’ll make us a cup of coffee.” Thea walked ahead into the kitchen trying hard to regain her composure. Graham’s threat still echoed through her mind.
“We can’t stay long; your father is taking me to dinner tonight.” Liz followed her and got three mugs out of the cupboard.
“We need four mugs, Mum, Graham is on the porch.”
“That’s perfect, I wanted to have a quick word with him,” said Eugene
“Did I hear my name?” Graham walked smiling into the kitchen. “Hello Eugene, Elizabeth. Did you have a great time with my baby? Thanks for looking after Barbara. It gives Thea time to do things that would bore the kid.” He put his arm around Thea and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad our little mother gets the well-deserved break now and then.”
Thea cringed. Did her parents fal
l for his over-the-top happy hubby act? Her father studied her face and up went his eyebrows. She forced a smile on her face. If she made a scene now, she would pay for it later after her parents left. Graham bent over backward to stay in Eugene’s good books. Joining the law practice of his father-in-law was heaven-sent when he’d been looking for work, and nobody offered him a job. Thinking back, it might have been the only reason Graham married her.
“I’m glad you’re home,” Eugene said, “Marcus Shilling came to the office yesterday. I hope you are not thinking of representing him? I don’t want my firm to become involved with people like him.”
“Marcus has never been convicted. The police dropped all charges. I have no reason to refuse to represent him. He’s been my client for months.”
Eugene studied Graham for a long moment and clenched his jaw. “I don’t recall that coming up in any of our case-load meetings. You are endangering your family by working with thugs like him. You must cut him loose. We have a clear policy, and you are risking our reputation.”
Thea had the impulse to throw herself between the two men. Didn’t her father see he’d played straight into Graham’s hand? The smug glee her husband’s face told her this discussion went as Graham had hoped it would. He looked like a viper that knew he had his victim where he wanted him.
“I understand your concern. That’s why I have decided it’s time for me to leave your firm. You’ve been a fantastic mentor, but I need to find my style. I’m no longer a suitable fit for you. I’ve to wind up a few cases I’ve started, but I’ll be out of your hair by February of next year.”
“Marcus Shilling is a criminal.” Eugene’s eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows pulled together. His voice showed nothing of the shock Thea assumed her father must feel at this moment. “I will not have my daughter and granddaughter put in danger.”
“I hear you, and I assure you nobody is in danger. Don’t forget we are talking about my wife and my daughter.”
An uncomfortable pause, laden with meaning, spread between her father and Graham. They looked like two bucks locking antlers, ready to fight to the death. Her father’s shoulder dropped as if he knew he’d lost the battle. She shivered even though the temperature in the house had most likely soared to ninety degrees by now.
“Son, you are making a mistake.”
“Maybe you’re right, but I don’t think so. You’ll have my letter of resignation on your desk by Monday.” Graham scooped up Barbara and went with her into the garden. “Let’s see where my poppet has hidden the ball.”
Eugene’s gaze shot to the doorway where Graham disappeared with Barbara. Then he looked at Thea. “I worry about you.”
“Don’t. I’ll be okay.”
“Eugene, we have to go if we want to be on time.”
“Coming, Lizzy.” He nodded to Thea and shouted into the garden. “See you later.” Her father looked at her as if he wanted to read her mind. “You should come over for a coffee tomorrow afternoon, with or without him.”
Thea nodded. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
Her heart hurt seeing her father worried about her. She watched her parents leave. Only when the front gate closed behind them did Thea shut the door and went back into the living room. She collected the empty coffee mugs and brought them into the kitchen. On her return, she stepped onto the porch.
“You didn’t tell me you planned to leave Cartwright & Associates.”
“It isn’t your concern, is it? Your father had it coming. I can make more money working for myself. It’s as simple as that.”
A sick weight settled in her stomach at his saccharine voice and benign smile. Should she contradict him and risk this day deteriorating even more? “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do. Let’s get ready for Anna’s party.”
Chapter Seven
A scrunched-up paper ball hit Christine’s head. She looked up from her typewriter and stared at Stefan, who’d vaulted onto the windowsill and grinned at her like a court jester, his right arm stretched triumphant into the air.
“Ta-da!”
“What’s the matter?” She squinted at him, half irritated, half laughing.
“I’ll take you for a test drive in my new car.”
“You’ve got a new car?”“I’m going to. I want your opinion.” He jumped into her room and looked over her shoulder to the page she worked on. Her IBM Selectric rattled like a muffled machine gun as her finger flew over the keys. “Come on, put this boring stuff aside, and join me.” He tried to pull the page out of her typewriter.
She pushed him away and pointed to the stack of paper. “I have to finish this first. It won’t take long. Sit down if you want to wait.” She hoped it would finish soon. She’d spent more time on the conclusion than she expected as her thoughts drifted off to Anna’s joyful news from this morning.
It was clear that Stefan didn’t like to wait. He flung himself crosswise on her worn-out grandfather chair and dangled his long legs over the armrest. His old, tattered jeans hugged his legs like a second skin, while he whistled, I love Rock’n Roll by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. He was such a spoiled young man. Christine glanced sideways at him.
His long blond locks shone like filigree gold in the rays of the low-setting afternoon sun. They complimented a face almost too handsome and too symmetrical to be manly. A face that made people stop and turn—and even blush when his chocolate brown eyes met their stare. He looked angelic and tempting, like a forbidden fruit straight from the Garden of Eden. A fruit she wouldn’t mind taking a bite off right now. But she had to finish the conclusion of her assignment.
“I have news.”
He looked as if he couldn’t keep his news to himself. His twinkling eyes and the slight upturn of his lips invited her to play. Oh, yes, she would like to. She’d been going out with him for over a year and he knew she’d like his kind of play. She’d had a hard time resisting him. Just a few more minutes letting the type-ball pivot over the page to finish her work.
She pulled the page out of the typewriter and leaned back. The gentle summer breeze caressed her face, and the curtains billowed in the draft in rhythm with the muted sounds of street traffic in the distance. Let the lazy summer afternoon begin.
Stefan had a sketchpad on his lap and outlined her face. He looked deliciously sexy as he watched her under half-lidded eyes causing butterflies to dance in her stomach. When it came to sexual appetite, they were a match made in heaven. But sex was cheap to get in Auckland. You could buy it for fifty bucks a pop at the corner of K-Road. She wanted more in a relationship than sexual attraction.
“Spit it out.”
He shook his head and winked at her. “I’ve got time. Finish your work first.”
He opened a bottle of coke and waved it in rhythm with the music. When it sloshed over and spilled on his new t-shirt he jumped up and cursed under his breath.
“I’m done. I’ll add the bibliography later.” She threw him a sideways glance and noticed his impatience. What could be his surprise? She waltzed over to him with swinging hips, pushed his legs off the armrest, and sat on his lap.
“Confession time.” Now she had his attention.
“Not squashed like this in the chair. Get off me and let’s hop onto the bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows and tried to push her off.
She pushed back and did not try to do as he asked.
“Spill the beans first, Casanova! Does everything you do have to come with a side order of sex? For crying out loud, can’t we have a simple conversation without wandering hands?”
He kissed his index finger, pressed it onto her lips, and then slowly drew a line down her neck into the valley between her breasts as if he had all the time in the world.
“Hun, what I have to say is best whispered into your cute little ears while you lie naked on your bed.” His breathing became labored and his voice sounded honeyed and smooth like aged whiskey.
She sat up and pushed her fists against his chest. �
��There is no way we are having sex this afternoon. Anna arrived today and soon people are coming over for a BBQ. Someone could walk in on us. That would be way too kinky for me.”
“My women usually bend over backward to fulfill my every desire.” He winked and tried to pull her closer, but Christine didn’t budge.
“There you have the crux of your problem. I’m not your usual woman, am I? You’re free to leave and spend the afternoon with them.”
If he was only hanging around because the sex was great, then she was better off without him. Even if it was hot, off-the-scale-rocking-the-boat kind of sex. Anyhow, he’d never indicated he would want a happily ever after. Inevitably, he would move on eventually. Nothing in her short twenty-four years had convinced her that people stuck by her. The only exception was her friends and she would walk through hell and back to keep Anna, Thea, and Claudia close.
She knew this was a childhood hang-up. Since she’d taken abnormal psychology 101 in her first year at uni, she knew her inability to trust others and commit had to do with her parents. Her lecturer had called it a straightforward case of an attachment disorder. Behind his back, she called him an arrogant old fart who disregarded the complexity of a human being by fitting a person into one handy, psychiatric category. That’s when she dropped the law degree and focused on psychology. “Someone has to get it right for the poor children,” was how she explained her move to her friends.
She didn’t hate her parents. They were the stereotypical scientists who’d had the brilliant idea to crawl around the Amazon rainforest and other godforsaken corners of the globe searching for plants to cure cancer. They dealt with the small nuisance of a child by farming her out to friends and family and sending her to a boarding school.
When her parents caught some rare tropical fever and died, Uncle Toby took her in. He was seventy at that time and more than happy to have a live-in maid at his fingertips. Well, it wasn’t that bad. He tried his best, the old gnarly bachelor. His best just wasn’t much good for a twelve-year-old girl.
Falling in Love Page 3