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David: Older Woman (Members From Money Book 32)

Page 2

by Katie Dowe


  “Does first thing mean eleven?” he asked her.

  “It means eight, darling, and if you are late I will never forgive you.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I would not want that.” He squeezed her hand and walked away. She watched him for a moment and then went on to mingle with the others.

  *****

  “Just one more round!” Hillary protested as Hailey insisted on leaving. It was already one in the morning and she was starting to feel wilted. “I am going home to my empty apartment with the memories of my recently failed marriage and I don’t think I can stand it.”

  “So you are thinking that another round of drinks will give you the fortitude to endure the loneliness?” Hailey asked with raised brows.

  “Of course,” Hillary said with a grin as she signaled the bartender to pour them another round of what they had just finished.

  “I have church a few hours from now,” Marge protested. “I promised the women’s group that I would help to share the meals this time around.”

  “Maybe I should come to church with you and try and find me a good God fearing man who will not leave me for a younger woman,” Hillary said as she gulped her vodka cherry.

  “I don’t think that is a good reason to go to church,” Hailey said as she sipped her martini slowly. She was starting to feel lightheaded and remember that she was driving herself. Her friends had come by cab and she was thinking that she should have probably done the same.

  “How do you do it?” Hillary asked her.

  “Do what?”

  “Stay single and not mind one bit.”

  “I bury myself in work. Remember how broken up I was about Todd and Andrew?”

  They both nodded.

  “Todd wanted to marry you,” Marge pointed out.

  “And make me be a stay-at-home wife.”

  “Maybe that would not be so bad.” Hillary saw the expression on her friend’s face and laughed. “Marge does it. How do you do it, honey?”

  “I do laundry and cook and everything in between. I love being a stay-at-home mother. I love having the children come home to me and I help them with homework. Ricky and I have not had sex since the past month, but that’s okay.”

  “Wow!” Hillary stared at her friend. “Scratch what I said. I am so happy I never had kids. Aren’t you horny? I am just sitting here and thinking about sex.”

  “I am too busy and tired at the end of the day,” Marge admitted.

  “Okay, gals, this is it for me. I am starting to see two of everything.” Hailey got to her feet and made sure she was steady before moving forward. “Thanks for tonight.”

  “You are welcome, girl.” Marge hugged her and then Hillary. “Drive safe.”

  She waved at them and wove her way through the crowd. She smiled at a couple of guys who stared at her but did not stop. She had several hours to recover and then get some work in and she planned on going to visit her mother later in the afternoon and then on Monday she was back to work and she was looking forward to it! The valet brought her car around and she handed him a tip before driving away.

  Chapter 2

  “An interpretation on the Mona Lisa painting.” Hailey sat on the edge of her desk and swung one leg. She had always treated teaching as casual as possible. She pointed the clicker towards the screen and the image changed to the famous painting. Several hands came up and she ignored them zeroing on a very shy and nervous freshman in the front row.

  “Ms. Blake?” The girl looked at her as if she wanted to disappear into the tiled floor. “What do you think?”

  She started to give her the Wikipedia version and Hailey stopped her. “Creative art is a form of free speech, Ms. Blake, and in my class we prefer your own take on the subject. Look at the picture closely and tell me what you see.”

  The girl looked at her for a moment and then at the painting. She studied it carefully all the time biting her lower lip. “It’s a painting of a woman,” she began.

  “I can see that.” Hailey quelled the laughter of the rest of the class with one look and then turned to the girl. “Tell me what springs out at you.”

  “The subject Lisa Gherardini looks relaxed and at ease.” She frowned a little bit. “She was not posed as in other portraits where the subject appears that they could not wait to get up from before the person doing the painting. She appears to be happy. The background remains just that: a backdrop for the woman herself and does not swamp or try to vie with the classical beauty of what she was.”

  She stopped talking and looked at Hailey as if seeking approval.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Blake proves the point I was trying to make. Interpretation has to do with how our minds see the things and figure it out.” She switched to another painting by an unknown artist depicting a boy sitting by the stream with his feet dangling in the clear blue water. “How about this one, Ms. Blake?”

  The girl swallowed and Hailey smiled as she realized that the young woman had thought she was through with her. “A boy sitting by the lake.”

  Hailey’s eyes lifted and this time she did not try to quell the laughter around her. “Isn’t that stating the obvious?”

  “Obviously a boy sitting by the lake,” the woman said with a brief smile at the joke. “He looks happy and carefree and the painter appeared to be close to the subject. Maybe it was him when he was little or someone related to him.”

  “How do you figure?”

  Ms. Blake leaned her head to one side and studied it some more. “The boy is smiling and with an ease that is not posed. There is a familiarity about him that suggests that he is not forced to pose.”

  Hailey looked at the picture and nodded. “I explained to you about the interpretation. Many of you want to be painters, some want to be writers, and even some want to do some sculpting or the other. In order to paint or do anything creative, you first have to get to know the subject.” She wrapped up a few minutes later and the students filed out. She was gathering up her stuff to go to the faculty lounge when she saw the young woman standing in the middle of the room waiting for her.

  “Ms. Blake?”

  “Could I speak to you for a moment?” she asked nervously.

  Hailey glanced at her watch and saw that she had twenty minutes to her next class and she badly needed caffeine.

  “Go ahead.”

  She fell into step with Hailey and was silent for a few seconds. “Ms. Blake?”

  “I admire you,” the girl burst out. “I want to be able to lecture the way you do.”

  “That’s admirable and I am flattered, but I always instruct my students to be themselves.”

  “I know, but your style of getting the word across is something else. My parents want me to become lawyers like them.”

  “But you don’t want that.”

  She shook her head furiously.

  “So tell them.”

  “They are dead set on me following tradition.”

  “They know what’s best for you.”

  “Not all the time.”

  Hailey stopped outside the faculty room. “Make them listen to you if you are sure that is not what you want.”

  “I am sure. Could you meet them when they get here for faculty day?” she asked anxiously.

  “I never interfere-”

  “I just want you to tell them about the curriculum and enforce what I will tell them.”

  “Okay.” Hailey nodded. “I have to go.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Donaldson.”

  “Of course.”

  *****

  “Hailey, over here!” Professor Darlington gestured furiously at the table where he was sitting with another colleague. Hailey stifled a sigh and grabbing her coffee she made her way over there. “Sit a spell, my dear,” he said with a warm smile. He was the head of the history department and divorced with a grown son. He never stopped hoping that she would become wife number two! He was tall and dark skinned with warm dark brown eyes and salt and pepper hair that he worn
low. “I was just telling Simon here that you bring the art world alive. I stopped by to listen to your lecture the other day and was pretty impressed.”

  Simon Guttenberg, a German national who had migrated a number of years ago, looked over at her, his dark eyes piercing. He was also a history major and specialized in the Cold War. “The students I have are a pain in the neck and do not care about what happened years ago,” he said in his deep guttural voice. Rumors were going around that he was involved with several of the students but nothing concrete could be proven. He was tall and stately and looked as if he was in constant pain. “Tell me, dear, how do you engage them?”

  “They happen to love the arts so it is easy,” Hailey told him with a smile. “I also kind of put some life into it and mix it up a little.”

  “A lot you mean,” Professor Darlington said with a wide smile. “You should see this young lady dance. It is a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Interpretative dance,” Hailey explained to the man as he looked a t her curiously. “We are studying the works of people like Bob Marley and putting dances to the rhythm. It’s very interesting.”

  “Bob Marley?” He looked at her with a frown.

  Hailey stared at him with a frown as if he had just woken up from a very long coma. “International reggae artist of the world. He is from Jamaica.”

  “Ah, Jamaica!” He nodded with an understanding smile. “I went there once. Beautiful tropical island and the people are so warm.”

  Hailey finished her coffee and left the table with Professor Darlington looking after her as she made her way through the tables.

  *****

  “Why?” Moira’s lips trembled as she looked at the man seated opposite her at the exclusive restaurant where they had come to have dinner. He had handed her a glittering diamond bracelet which must have cost a fortune and she knew it for what it was. A parting gift.

  He shrugged as he sipped his wine. “It was never long term,” he told her carelessly, his eyes roving around the room.

  “You never tried.” She blinked her eyes and was trying desperately not to cry. “We are good together, David, and you know that.”

  He leaned forward and took one slim white hand in his. “We were,” he said soothingly. “I need to take a break and actually do some work. Mother and my sister Marilyn are threatening to disinherit me.”

  “That’s not true.” She pulled her hand away from his. “You are just trying to make me feel better about dumping me.”

  “Dump is such an ugly word,” he told her mildly as he sat back in his chair. “We have been together for what? Two weeks-”

  “Three weeks and two days,” she said with a glittering look in her bright green eyes. “I could have had any man I wanted, David.”

  “And you still can,” he told her impatiently. “You are a beautiful woman, Moira.”

  “Go to hell!” she whispered, and grabbing her clutch and the box with the bracelet, she left him sitting there. He noticed cynically that she did not leave the jewelry behind. He also knew that as soon as she got inside her car and slid it on, she would move on from him to the next sucker. He sipped his wine and looked around the room idly. He stifled a sigh when a stunning blonde walked over with a sultry look on her face.

  “I was hoping she would leave,” she said as she slid into the seat that Moira had vacated. He knew who she was as they ran in the same circle. Her father owned several hotels and vacation homes and she was a socialite who flitted from one rich man to the next.

  “Sofia.” He gave his practiced smile.

  “David.” She leaned forward and he got a glimpse of her generous bosom probably paid for with her daddy’s money. “I would like you to take me home.”

  *****

  “Mom?” Hailey pushed the door open and went through the foyer. “Where are you?”

  “In the kitchen making tea. Come on through.”

  Hailey walked through the trim and neat foyer and went into the kitchen to see her mother pouring hot water over a sachet. “Would you like some?”

  Hailey wrinkled her nose as she stepped out of her heels and came towards the counter. “You know coffee is my thing.” She went towards the coffee pot and started to make some. “I thought you were going to play bridge?”

  “I am feeling a little tired so I decided to sit this one out.” Henrietta looked at her slender beautiful daughter and could not help the proud look in her eyes. She had outdone herself and as a mother she was very happy for that. The girl was not only beautiful; she was smart and had not stopped pushing herself until she had gotten her doctorate in the subject she loved. “How were classes?”

  “Exciting as usual.” She poured the coffee into a mug and came to join her mother around the counter. “I met a freshman who wants to be a mini me,” she said with a small smile. “I must say I was touched.”

  “You touch a lot of minds, honey,”

  “I want to make a difference in a society that is all about fast and easy. The arts are dying, Mom, and I refuse to accept that.”

  “Reading has become a thing of the past. I remember that you used to read until I had to order you to go to bed. I thought you would have become a writer.”

  “I did not want to be tied down to just one thing. I love them all. The music, the painting, the sculpting.” She laughed and threw up her hands. “My office is one big confusion of me trying to do all those things.”

  “Have you finished the sculpture?”

  “Not yet. But I will. I have started a blog as well. It’s called Artist’s Haven and it’s getting a lot of likes.”

  “I am proud of you.” Henrietta reached out and took her hands. “You make me so proud.”

  “You did a great job as a single parent, Mom,” she said sincerely.

  “You are my greatest accomplishment,” Henrietta said softly. “I sit at the bridge table and hear the talk about their failures as mothers with children who have not accomplished anything and I glow with pride. My daughter with her doctorate.”

  “And the student loans to prove it,” she said wryly.

  “It will be paid off one day,” her mother said firmly. “Let’s go outdoors and enjoy the beautiful evening.”

  *****

  David greeted the pro basketball player with a firm handshake. ‘Air Light’ had taken over the market and was being branded as one of the best sneakers ever made! The aggressive marketing had started and had yielded very good results. It also helped that celebrities were wearing them as well. David wore it whenever he went to the gym and had been photographed in two different colors: blue and red. He stood to one side as the press conference continued, his eyes wandering around the room. A red-headed reporter caught his eyes and her message was very clear. He automatically gave her his slow smile and he grinned inwardly as she blushed. He loved the power he had over women and even though being in meaningless relationships was starting to get to him, he never seemed to be able to help himself. His dark blue eyes wandered over her chic auburn skirt suit that somehow did not clash with her hair color and he could see the need in her light green eyes. He knew she was an anchor at the popular radio station and had admired her panache when she read the news.

  The press conference broke up and the rest of the news team filed out of the large conference room, but she lingered at the refreshment table in the pretext of grabbing some of the delicious pastry provided. He walked over to her and grabbed a croissant himself.

  “Hi,” he murmured as she turned to him.

  “Hi.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. “You looked good up there.”

  “Thank you.” He bit into the pastry and watched as her eyes followed his movements. “Sierra, right?”

  “Yes,” she breathed out and drew closer to him. “I like your style.”

  “What style is that?” he asked her in amusement. They were playing the mating game and he was enjoying it.

  “Your confidence in front of all the cameras.”

  “Thank you.” He
nodded gracefully. He could see his mother and older sister approaching out of the corner of his eyes. He took her hand and scribbled his number in her palm. “Duty calls. Give me a call when you can.”

  “Excuse us, please.” Martha’s eyes were scathing as she looked at the blushing woman.

  “Mother, that was rude,” he said mildly as he watched the woman hurried away. His eyes lingered on her neat butt.

  “I want you to keep your libido in check, David, this is a business we are running,” she told him coolly.

  “It’s in check and you have my full attention.” He looked at his disapproving sister. “Darling, lighten up.” He leaned over and pulled her into his arms, holding her as she tried to pull away. “What do you require of me? I am all yours.”

  *****

  “Mother, you need to talk to him!” Marilyn said, her mouth thinning. They were in her mother’s large sumptuous office that had once belonged to her father.

  “And say what exactly?” Martha asked her daughter mildly as she kicked off her heels and sat in the plush chair. “David will get his own one day and when that time comes I will sit by and smile.”

  “What do you mean?” Marilyn frowned at her mother. She had meetings to attend and a staff to berate, but she was confounded by her brother’s philandering ways! “He is thirty-five years old and behaving like he is still a teenager. He has the highest sex drive I have ever known a man to have.”

  “What do you know of men and sex, darling?” Martha asked her daughter mildly. “When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

  Marilyn stepped back as if she had been slapped and her grey eyes widened. “You have no right-”

  “I have a son who is determined to have sex with anybody who wears a skirt and a daughter who refuses to open her legs to anyone. What does that say?”

  Marilyn felt the color creeping in her plain face as she stared at her beautiful mother. “It’s easy for you and for him and Marissa,” she whispered. “I am the plain duckling and the only way a man would even give me a second look is because my name is Snyder.”

 

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