Capital Wives

by Rochelle Alers

  “Why, Nate?”

  “When you asked me to kill the story on Spencer Tyson because his wife is your friend I knew it was time to stop ruining lives. I know you’d become a pariah when you married Damon, so when you told me how Deanna Tyson and Marisol McDonald saved not only you but your husband’s reputation, I figured I owed you this one.”

  “How are you… Do you have enough money to live on in St. Thomas?”

  “Believe it or not, I came across some bonds in a pile of papers when I was looking for something and when I took them to the bank I couldn’t believe what they were worth. So, the answer is yes. I have enough money to live a comfortable but humble life in the Caribbean.”

  Putting her arms around his neck, Bethany kissed his smooth check. “Don’t forget to send me a card.”

  He kissed her back. “I won’t. Now get out of here before the moving guys come. Everything in the boxes will be shredded and the computers will be disposed of. I know its polluting, but the flash drives will end up at the bottom of the ocean.”

  Bethany kissed her mentor again, then walked out of his office. Deanna had helped her and she’d gotten to return the favor. They were now BFFs.

  Marisol made it to the bathroom in time to spill the contents of her stomach in the commode rather than on the floor. It was the second time that morning she hadn’t been able to keep food down. It was Memorial Day weekend and she’d planned to spend it with her in-laws aboard the McDonald yacht.

  She hadn’t realized she was pregnant until the tenderness in her breasts continued beyond the end of her menses. When she’d gone to the doctor no one was more shocked than Marisol when the doctor told her she was pregnant. Her first impulse was to call Bryce, but she had decided to wait until he returned from California.

  She brushed her teeth, rinsed her mouth with a minty wash and returned to the bedroom to dress for the day. She’d just slipped into a pair of jeans when Bryce walked into the bedroom. “Hey,” she said, smiling. “You’re back early.” Marisol hadn’t expected him until the next day.

  Extending his arms, Bryce approached. “Hey yourself.” Ducking his head, he covered her mouth with his. “You taste good. I finished up early, so I decided to come back early.”

  “Did you eat?”

  He nodded. “I came back first-class, so I had breakfast.”

  Marisol reached for the blouse she’d left on the bed. “I have some good news.”

  Bryce unbuttoned his shirt while Marisol buttoned her blouse. “What is it?”

  A mysterious smile softened her lips. “We’re going to have a baby.”

  What happened next would forever be imprinted on Marisol’s memory. One moment she was standing in front of Bryce and within seconds she was on the carpet when he backhanded her across the face. His normally pleasant features were distorted, turning him into someone she didn’t know or recognize.

  “Whore!”

  Marisol scrambled off the floor and launched herself at him, but he sidestepped her and she would’ve pitched forward face-first into the bedside table if she hadn’t held on to the post on the canopy bed.

  Eyes wide, she glared at him. “That’s the first and last time you’ll ever raise your hand to hit me.”

  “What are you going to do, chica? Gut me?”

  “No, Bryce. I’m going to do one better. I’m leaving you.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Watch me.”

  He grabbed her upper arm, holding her tight enough to leave a bruise. “You leave me and I will bury you. That baby in your belly can’t be mine because I’m sterile. And I have a good idea whose it is. So if you don’t want me to tell the world that Congressman Wesley Sheridan has been balling my wife, then you better keep your mouth shut and play the good little wife.”

  Marisol’s mind was going into overdrive. She couldn’t believe she’d been married to a man who’d concealed something so important as his inability to father a child. If the baby in her belly wasn’t Bryce’s then it had to be Wesley’s.

  “Okay, Bryce. You win.”

  His hand tightened, impeding blood flow. “You must really like him.”

  “Wrong, Bryce. I just don’t want to ruin the man’s political career. Now please let me go. I need to go out.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to look at some rugs for a client.”

  Bryce released her arm. “After I shower I’m going to try and get some sleep. We’ll go out later tonight to celebrate.”

  Dream on, clown, Marisol mused as she finished dressing. If there was going to be any celebrating she would be the one doing it.

  Marisol walked into small private hospital, asking to see a doctor because she was pregnant and her husband had assaulted her. The bruise on her left cheek and the swelling over her left eye and her upper left arm were examined and photographed.

  Her next visit was to a local precinct where she filed a report that her husband had attacked her. She told the officer that she wanted to file an order of protection because she feared for her life and that of her unborn child.

  Marisol stopped to eat because with the heat she’d begun to feel faint. Then she did what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do unless it had to do with business. She called Wesley. His phone rang three times and when she was ready to hang up he answered.

  “Hola.”

  “I have to see you.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’ll tell when I see you.”

  “Come on over.”

  Marisol was fortunate enough to find a parking space in front of Wesley’s building. He was waiting when she got out of the car. A pair of oversize sunglasses had concealed most of the bruising on her face.

  “Thanks for seeing me.”

  Wesley reached for her hand. “Why the frantic call?”

  “I’ll tell you inside.”

  Waiting until she was seated on a tall stool in Wesley’s kitchen, sipping from a bottle of cold water, Marisol removed her glasses. She saw shock, fear, then rage in his eyes.

  Wesley cradled her face. “What happened to you? Who did this to you?”

  “My loving husband.”

  The natural color drained from Wesley’s face. “That sonofabitch! I’ll kill him!”

  Marisol shook her head. “No, you won’t. I went to the police and when he’s cuffed, read his rights and locked up that will hurt him a lot more than a beating from you.”

  “You need to put some ice on your face.”

  Unbuttoning her blouse, Marisol slipped it off. “I’m going to need more.”

  Clapping a hand over his mouth, Wesley smothered a savage expletive. “Has he ever hit you before?”

  “No.”

  “Why now?”

  “Because I told him I’m pregnant.”

  “He doesn’t want a baby?”

  “He doesn’t want another man’s baby.”

  Wesley blinked once. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I didn’t know Bryce was sterile until this morning.”

  “If it’s not his baby then it has to be…mine.” Marisol nodded. “Oh, shit, oh, shit,” Wesley said over and over. He covered his mouth, then cradled the back of his head. “This is incredible. I want you to move in with me.”

  “Wrong, Wes. I can’t move in with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “What would it look like? I leave my husband to move in with the man he helped get elected. I’ve filed for an order of protection and soon as I have it I’m going back to the house to get my things. I’ll move into a hotel until I find an apartment. Then I’m going to divorce Bryce McDonald.”

  “What about the baby, querida?”

  “Don’t worry, Wes. I’m not going to keep you from seeing your son or daughter.”

  “What about us?”

  “Right now there is no us, Wesley. If you’re willing to wait until I straighten out the mess I’ve made of my life I think there may be an us.”

&nbs
p; “You have to know that I’m in love with you.”

  She smiled. “No!”

  “Yes, querida.”

  “Come kiss me, then please bring me those ice packs.”

  Wesley kissed Marisol with a passion that communicated he would love and protect her with his life. She’d asked him to wait and he would, all because she was more than worth the wait.

  Epilogue

  A year later…

  Bethany, Deanna and Marisol sat in the enclosed porch in Falls Church, Virginia, while Paige Paxton had volunteered to babysit Harper Tyson and Zara Sheridan.

  Bethany had invited her friends to her home to tell them something she knew might destroy their friendship, but guilt had nagged at her like a toothache. She’d watched their expressions when she told them her involvement with The Dish and that she’d been the blogger known as the Insider.

  “Even though I knew a lot of stuff about you guys I told my editor that I would never out any of you,” she whispered.

  “So, that’s why you warned me about that woman outing Spencer,” Deanna said accusingly.

  “Think about it, Dee. If it hadn’t been for me, then Spencer would’ve been ruined or in jail instead of that skank.”

  Marisol leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “I find it to be a little coincidental that drugs were found at her house days before the story was going to break.”

  Bethany sat stone-faced. “I know nothing about that.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Deanna said. “There’s no doubt you and Damon keep very few things from each other.”

  Shaking her head, Bethany drawled, “I ain’t saying nothing.”

  Marisol winked at Bethany. “You did good, Barbie.”

  “I’ll do even better when you and Wesley finally tie the knot.”

  “He proposed for the umpteenth time last night and I finally accepted.” When she’d presented Bryce with divorce papers he hadn’t contested it. He had also pled guilty to domestic assault and was placed on probation with a mandate he attend anger management counseling. Within a month of their divorce he’d remarried, and Marisol hoped he would tell this wife about his inability to father a child.

  Deanna and Bethany stared at Marisol. “Have you set a date?” Deanna asked.

  Marisol nodded. “Thanksgiving weekend. We’re going to have a destination wedding. So everyone’s invited to come down to Puerto Rico and hang out at the house. By that time it should be fully furnished. The adults can sleep upstairs while the kids can take over the first floor. It’s going to be one big sleepover. Some of the relatives who don’t live too far away will open their homes for the overflow.”

  “Do they speak English?” Bethany asked. “Because you know I can’t understand a lick of Spanish.”

  Marisol rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t go there, Snowflake.”

  “You’ll choke on that word once my son marries your daughter. Connor told me he’s in love with her.”

  Marisol laughed. “Speaking of daughters, Paige asked if she can babysit Zara.”

  “You’ll have to talk to Damon about that. Damon took her away on a father-daughter weekend last month and when they got back she’d changed so much that I thought she wasn’t the same girl. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but so far so good.”

  “Would you mind if she works with me once the B and B is up and running?” Deanna asked. “She could work the front desk during school holidays and recess.”

  “Now that she’s come out of her shell, I’m certain she would love that.”

  A tapping on the door got everyone’s attention. “Come in,” Bethany called out.

  Damon walked in, his gaze lingering on the two women who’d changed his wife’s life. He’d done things he wasn’t proud of but were necessary to protect her and her friends.

  “We’ve fired up the grill and Wesley wants to know how you want your steaks.”

  Marisol stood up, the others following. “Tell Wes we’re coming out.”

  Damon smiled. “The bar is open, so you’re going to have to let me know what you want to drink.”

  Deanna and Marisol shared a look. They’d just stopped breast-feeding, so they were ready to get their drink on. They left the sunporch and walked to the rear of the house, where a large tent had been set up to ward off the damaging rays of the sun.

  Damon had invited many of his associates and their wives, but none could compare to the three women who’d become the consummate D.C. wives.

  CAPITAL WIVES

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-1538-2

  Copyright © 2011 by Rochelle Alers

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