by James Ross
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-One
Chapter Eighty-Two
Chapter Eighty-Three
Chapter Eighty-Four
Chapter Eighty-Five
Chapter Eighty-Six
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Chapter Ninety
Chapter Ninety-One
Chapter Ninety-Two
Chapter Ninety-Three
Chapter Ninety-Four
Chapter Ninety-Five
Chapter Ninety-Six
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Chapter One Hundred
Chapter One Hundred One
Chapter One
It was late; well past midnight.
The iPhone’s ringtone indicated a text message had been received. Stirred, Raul rolled over. He fluffed the pillow and scooted a bent elbow underneath it. The cozier position would help him fall back asleep.
Two minutes elapsed when the tone sounded again. Raul sighed and flipped to his other side, but it was too late. He was awake and his curiosity piqued.
R u going to do it or will it be me?
Raul shook the cobwebs out of his head and replied.
Who is this?
A minute elapsed.
Don’t play stupid
The naked man stood in the darkness. He rubbed his hand over facial stubble and brushed it through his thick, dark hair.
I’ve got no idea
Silence.
Shari. R u thinking with that tool between ur legs?
A smiley face followed.
If u weren’t so good in bed I’d swear u didn’t have a brain
A slight grin creased his lips.
Ah, my hot stuff. How are you?
A quick reply followed.
Hot
I want u
Raul shifted the goods below his waistline.
Have you been drinking?
Another smiley face lit up the screen.
Maybe
Go back to sleep. I can’t help you now
I need u!
Later this week, hot stuff
Raul hooked the phone back to its charger and slid into bed. Before he could pull the covers up the phone sounded again. He jumped to answer.
R u?
Am I what?
Going to get rid of her?
What are you talking abt?
U know exactly what I’m talking abt
Raul did not respond.
R u?
The Latino closed his eyes.
Don’t be such a chicken shit. Just do it before I do
Chapter Two
Shari Daniels-Donnelly had kept her maiden name connected to that of her spouse. That was because she was well known in amateur golf events throughout the Midwest following a nice career at the University of Missouri.
A cigarette burned in the ash tray on the marble bathroom counter top. One bath towel was wrapped around her torso, another around the wet hair on her head.
Next to the Marlboro Lights sat a collection of aromatherapy jar candles that reminded her of her family. The multi-colored grouping had been personally formulated and delivered from a specialty manufacturer in the Northeast. The set was a gift Shari gave herself after her first child turned ten. She associated a fragrance with each family member.
To honor her eldest child, Kara was custom carved on the first jar. The selection, Heirloom Lavender, was relaxing and refreshing and Shari could count on it to put her in an uplifting mood. After its use as a candle the jar became a jewelry catcher. The silver pink blend of Sweet Satsuma was found in the jar that had Del etched into the glass. It’s scent was rejuvenating, a light citrus that included mandarin. Once the wax was spent, this glass jar would hold loose change and find a place on her dresser.
The Just Dream mixture was a starlight blue soy wax blend that emitted the soft scent of an English garden. Lighting this candle produced a therapeutic, calming effect on Shari. Her monogram, SDD, was etched on the glass. Chocolate covered almonds and assorted candies would ultimately find their way to this container.
Sadly, the Celadon colored jar with its aromatic combination of sweet grapes, peaches, and plums, had been used only once. The slight fruity scent had an awakening and romantic effect. In aromatherapy terms the Garden’s Walk selection was meant to be emotionally healing. Tyler Cy was hand carved into the glass. No alternate use was scheduled for this personalized jar. Shari did not intend to burn the wax. She hated it.
Barefoot and dripping slightly, Shari grabbed her lighter with one hand as she reached for her pack of cigarettes with the other. Before lighting up she paused and glanced at a larger aromatherapy jar that did not go with the set. Jayla was hand carved on the container. She was the youngest daughter who burst upon the scene unplanned and unexpected
when Kara and Del were approaching their teens. The scent was lemongrass and orange for inspiration. If there was anything that put a smile on her face it was thoughts of Jayla.
“Isn’t the wedding at five?” Tyler Cyrus Donnelly called as he walked into the master bedroom and noticed the door to the bathroom was closed.
“I went to Nieman Marcus to get a gift but ran into Lola. It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other. We chatted for a while and then she suggested we grab a drink at Luau Cove. That’s the new trendy café at the mall. I didn’t want to be rude. I got a glass of 1998 La Grande Dame, which was only seventy nine bucks. She ordered the chickpea and orzo salad. The dressing was Piquillo pepper vinaigrette and it was to die for! I ordered Freekeh, that’s the smoked wheat from the Middle East, and we split the dishes.”
“It was just a yes or no question.”
“I thought the crystal I wanted was at Nieman Marcus so I bought it. But after lunch we walked to Saks to see if they had the same quality. Of course they did and it was a little less. I thought I probably should get the lower priced one because I splurged a little on the wine. So I bought a serving bowl but had to take the other one back to Nieman Marcus. Then as we were walking out Lola asked if I had been to the McLaughlin Irish Crystal company by the Galleria. I never heard of it. She said she’d help, so we hopped into her car since she knew the way. Thank goodness. I would have never been able to find it. But they had what I wanted. A Heritage Crystal Trellis bowl – exactly what I wanted to get in the first place. So we bought that one and drove back to Saks to return the one we got after lunch.”
“It’s 4:30, Woobie.”
“Stop calling me that! I just got out of the tub. I needed to soak. And shave my legs.” Shari leaned closer to the mirror and used a pair of tweezers to pluck an errant hair from her brow. “I still have to get ready. And I’ve got no idea what I’m going to wear.” She reached for her monogrammed Hartmann Wings cosmetics case. With tweed pattern, leather trim, brass fittings and matching lock, the bag looked like it could comfortably house a litter of kittens.
She emptied the contents onto the counter. Spilled into a pile were two smaller silk-screened pouches along with a variety of designer lipsticks from the Rouge G de Guerlain line along with waterproof lip liner from Revlon in a collection that included lip balm, lip gloss, lip plumper, and a lip pencil. Scattered in the mix was an eye lift crème by Estee Lauder, an anti-wrinkle eye crème from Lancome Rinergie, and, in a gold-plated case, various shades of eye shadow from a French company called Ed Pinaud.
L’OREAL had the new Feria Wild Ombre collection represented. Giorgio Armani found its way to the party. Foundation and bronzer came from that company. Nail lacquer from OPI, an eyelash curler and an eyebrow razor occupied counter space next to a case of tinted contact lenses. There was a hairbrush, a comb, some cotton balls, and a case of sponge puffs alongside a facial mist revitalizer. An LED lighted compact mirror, two hair pins, and three neon hair bands could be seen. A checkbook, a Gucci wallet, six credit cards and driver’s license, as well as four prescription drug bottles were also strewn in the pile.
In addition to a package of over-the-counter diet pills, Shari apparently went old-school to keep her weight under control. Four packs of Marlboro Lights were scattered in the heap along with three lighters.
That was before the side pouches were opened. An Oakley pair of sunglasses and a designer pair from Louis Vuitton were there along with a leopard skin jewelry pouch with drawstring. After an inventory list the bag and its contents might fetch 10K on eBay.
She reached for her rings in a porcelain soap dish and eased her 4-carat wedding ring onto the ring finger of her left hand. A vintage onyx ring covered with rhinestones went on her index finger. A simple copper band occupied the first joint of her middle finger. To complete the look a black agate cocktail ring encircled with small diamonds went onto her pinky finger.
Fingernails tapped annoyingly on the marble as thoughts wrinkled her brow. To complete the look Shari placed a gold band on her right thumb. A tiny blue gemstone ring went on her right index finger. Some sort of green stone band was placed on her middle finger. Her pride and joy, a ring with a stunning large sapphire went onto her right ring finger. She left the right pinky unoccupied.
“If we’re late, it’s not my fault.” She reached for the ashtray, grabbed the lit cigarette, took a drag, tilted her head back, and blew a trail of smoke toward the ceiling.
Chapter Three
Tyler Cy was polite. The years had jaded him somewhat when questions concerning the actions of his wife arose. His mind was pre-occupied on making a buck in the real estate circles around St. Louis. Shari’s behavior wasn’t going to change. Instead of pacing the floor and doing a slow burn he merely went downstairs and flicked on the TV. At five he would pull the car around to the front of the house. Shari would show. Her MO was to run fashionably late; a wedding was no different. Even though he was punctual he had grown used to her tardiness.
At five foot eight, bald, with a bit of a paunch, he put up with a lot to have a show piece on his arm. The pair had met at the University of Missouri in Columbia. Tyler Cy was from Kirkwood, a St. Louis suburb about 15 minutes west of downtown. He was a product of the parochial school system and had gone to an all-boys Catholic high school. Shari grew up in St. Charles County, a suburb farther to the west and across the Missouri River, before real estate development in the county exploded to place it perennially in the Top 10 fastest growing counties in the nation.
The romance raised eyebrows from the start. A pudgy, non-athletic, baby faced, Catholic boy and an athletic, statuesque brunette two inches taller always will. Tyler Cy hit the books, knew all of the right kiss-ass things to say, and had an intense will to succeed. Shari dominated conversations and got her way with a model’s smile. Add some suggestive body language and a chic wardrobe and Shari had more than coon dogs chasing her scent. She was in demand at Mizzou and even entered the Miss Missouri pageant.
Their senior year approached. It was time to get married. Tyler Cy wasn’t going to let his Cinderella miss the ball. He popped the question. Surprisingly, Shari said yes. Many folks shook their heads. Others agreed that the liaison wouldn’t last. And now, twenty-four years later, Tyler Cy had the last laugh.
The young newlyweds moved to St. Louis. After working in used home sales for a couple of years, Tyler Cy opened his own real estate company. Shari was a supportive partner and successful real estate agent. Together they worked endless hours on the job. Both wrote contracts, showed property, and recruited agents to join their firm. Weekends were full of open houses. Billboards dotted the town with a catchy slogan. HAVE REAL ESTATE TO SELL OR BUY? YOUR MAN IN TOWN IS TYLER CY. Agents flocked to be a part of the real property rush. One office became two. Two became four. The company grew to 26 real estate offices in suburban St. Louis. The family Ford became a brand new Cadillac that was traded in each year. Tyler Cy, with Shari’s help, had hit it big.
The duo’s union quickly produced a baby girl. Three years later came a son. That responsibility provided plenty of incentive for the real estate tycoon. Shari’s contribution to the business waned and she became a stay-at-home mom. Then a surprise, a baby girl, came upon the scene. Or was it an accident? The mother of two teens and an infant ran for Mrs. Missouri and won going away. As the bucks rolled in, the head-turner with a bit of country swagger became part of the nouveau riche. And boy could she flaunt it.
Tyler Cy pulled the pearl white Cadillac Sedan de Ville around the circle drive in front of their home and parked near the front door. After exiting the car, he stopped to admire his dream home. The custom designed two-story home had a wing to the right which housed a four-car garage. To the left was a wing that was part of the home. It opened to a breezeway, a pool area, and a guest home that was situated on the opposite side of the breezeway. The home itself would not rival the $10 – 15 million mansions, but with a value of $3.6 it was a showpiece located in a fashionable
zip code in the St. Louis suburbs and sat on 3 acres of well positioned, but secluded real estate.
Dressed in a grey suit with red power tie, Tyler Cy re-entered the house and waited in the foyer. A glance at his watch indicated the obvious. What would remain unknown was whether or not their late entrance would be a distraction to the ceremony.
There was clamor, and then commotion; after that, an expected apology. Tyler Cy had heard it many times before. “I’m sorry.”
But there was no mistake. He was proud of what was going to be on his arm. Shari was breathtakingly beautiful as she rounded the staircase and headed toward her husband. “I tried on Oscar de la Renta but after getting all the accessories on it just didn’t feel right. So I changed into Versace.” Shari turned around. “Do you like?” The floral print exploded with splashy exotic colors. The silk fabric clung to every curve of her body. With tan legs, white hoop earrings, gold necklace, three bracelets, and seasonal yellow strap shoes it was simply impossible for Tyler Cy to be upset. His wife was well-preserved and her body would rival that of a fitness instructor. She looked stunning.
“Glad I waited.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “You’re beautiful.”
“Dammit, Tyler Cy! You just messed up my lipstick!” As quickly as she had entered the foyer Shari turned and headed to the nearest mirror. “You can’t do anything right.”
Tyler Cy rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. It was useless to issue a challenge. He learned that lesson quickly when their relationship first blossomed. If he wanted to keep her around he had to acquiesce to her whims. Either that or stay at the office for hours on end. At least that way he wouldn’t have to be around anymore than necessary.
After marching down the foyer and out of the house, Shari slid into the leather seats after Tyler Cy, ever the gentleman, opened the car door on the passenger side. Before he could walk around the rear of the Cadillac Shari had already lit a Marlboro Light, lowered the visor, and inched to the mirror. She wasted no time ripping into her purse and finding the pouch labeled Chanel. It carried coral-peach blush with a soft, golden shimmer. An extra coat of mascara to her lashes was the next chore.
Tyler Cy eased out of the driveway and hadn’t traveled a block when he ran over a seam in the roadway that had buckled. The jolt sent Shari sliding slightly across the slick leather. “Dammit! What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see I’m touching up my make-up?”