Pretty Woman

by Fern Michaels

  Rosie eyed the puddle of candle wax that was still burning and hissing, bits of wax spurting onto the linen tablecloth. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “You fixed okay for money, kiddo?”

  “I’m fine. I never touched my parents’ insurance money. The house is paid for. I’ve been living off the business. Some months it’s touch-and-go, but I make it. I’d have a lot more if I hadn’t been so generous with Kent. We’ll sell the Porsche and the boat. That will give me a bit of a cushion. Oh, I also canceled his club membership as well as the gym. I think he has a few weeks on the gym, though. It doesn’t really matter at this point.”

  “Rosie, I don’t know where your backbone came from all of a sudden, but I certainly approve. All I can say is, it’s about time.”

  Rosie looked down at her lap. Her hands were folded the way she’d folded her hands at the table when she was a child. She spoke hesitantly, her face warm with what she was going to share with her trusted housekeeper. “Kent and I haven’t…we didn’t…it all stopped right after we got back from our honeymoon. He was the one who wanted the twin beds. Because of his back, he said. I only approached him once. It was a humiliating experience. I’ve smelled perfume on him so many times I’ve lost count. He said grateful clients would hug him, and that’s why he smelled like a French whorehouse. He had an answer for everything. Look at me, Luna Mae. I bought my husband. I paid for him. That’s all he wanted. My money. And I wanted to be Mrs. Bliss. End of story.”

  Luna Mae looked puzzled. “What happened today to make you kick up your heels? Today was just like any other day around here. What did I miss?”

  “I saw, I really saw, the way he looked at me this morning. I repulsed him. Yeah, Luna Mae, I saw that. He didn’t try to hide it either. And the fact that I knew he wasn’t going to remember that today is our anniversary. I must have had some kind of premonition or something because I didn’t knock myself out buying him a gift the way I did last year and the year before. Now you know it all.”

  “Rosie, I’m so sorry. I wish it had worked out differently. You have so much love in you to give. It’s his loss. He’s never going to find anyone better than you,” Luna Mae said vehemently.

  Rosie reached out to pat the housekeeper’s hand. “I appreciate your loyalty, Luna Mae, I really do. I don’t know what I would have done without you these past three years.”

  “Do you want me to clear the table, Rosie?”

  “No, not yet. Is that a car I hear?” Rosie looked down at her watch—10:35.

  “Yes, I think so. I’ll be in the kitchen. If you need me, yell.”

  “Why? Your ear will be pressed against the door,” Rosie responded, a sickly smile on her face.

  A minute later, Rosie looked up to see her handsome husband towering over her. She reached out and deliberately fired up a cigarette she didn’t want. “You’re late,” she said through a plume of smoke.

  “I told you this morning I couldn’t make dinner, Rosalie.”

  “Yes, you did. I guess you didn’t hear me when I said it was imperative you be here. You smell like…soap. Your hair is wet. I guess you must have just taken a shower at some woman’s house. The club is closed. I don’t really care. I’m just making conversation.” Rosie blew another puff of smoke in his direction, her eyes daring him to say something. Kent remained quiet, a puzzled expression on his face.

  Rosie looked down at her watch. “Oops, it’s time for you to leave. Your stuff is all packed at the top of the stairs. You better call a cab.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Rosalie?”

  Rosie crushed out the cigarette she was holding. “What part of ‘your stuff is all packed at the top of the stairs’ and ‘you better call a cab’ don’t you understand? The bottom line is, I’m kicking you out ofmy house. The way I see it is this, you have two options. You can go peacefully, or I can call the police and have you ejected.” She looked down at the Swatch watch on her right hand. “I’ll give you ten minutes. If you kick the bags down the stairs, you’ll save time.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Rosalie. What the hell’s gotten into you?”

  Rosie felt pleased at the note of panic in her husband’s voice. “Yes, Kent, you are going somewhere. Where, I don’t care, but you are leaving my house. In ten minutes. Have your lawyer call my lawyer. Luna Mae!” she shouted.

  Luna Mae poked her head in the dining room doorway. “I want you to call the police in eight minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  Kent reached up and straightened his tie. He looked wrinkled, unlike his usual pristine self. The Rolex winked on his wrist. Rosie wished she could snatch it off his arm. He sat down and leaned forward. Rosie reared back against the chair she was sitting on. “Obviously we need to talk,” he said, his voice sounding jittery.

  Rosie’s chair scraped backward. “You see, you aren’t getting it. I’m tossing you out of my house. I don’t want to be married to you any longer. I’m sick and tired of your affairs. I’m sick and tired of being humiliated in town. I don’t like people talking about me behind my back. I’m sick and tired of you mooching off me. Work like everyone else does. By the way, the car stays here. That’s why you have to call a cab. I’m selling it. The boat, too. I canceled the credit cards, and there’s no money in the bank. I also canceled the club membership and the gym, but there are a few weeks to go on the gym membership.”

  “You can’t do that!” Kent sputtered, a look of panic on his face.

  “You aren’t listening to me, Kent. Ialready did it. I did it because I knew you wouldn’t be home for dinner. You don’t want to risk staying here. I might do something to you while you’re sleeping. Your time is running out.” Rosie looked down at the Swatch to make her point.

  “Luna Mae, call Mr. Bliss a cab. If he doesn’t want his stuff, we’ll have a bonfire!”

  “Okay.”

  “You fat bitch! You aren’t going to get away with this,” Kent snarled, his face turning ugly.

  A lump formed in Rosie’s throat. She managed to talk around it. “Today was our anniversary.”

  Kent looked at her, bug-eyed. “Is that what this is all about? For Christ’s sake, you’re like a little kid when it comes to that romantic stuff.” He looked uneasily at the burned-down candles and the wilted flowers.

  Rosie looked at the Swatch again. “Four minutes and counting.”

  “Will you stop that! I’m not going anywhere. Where the hell am I supposed to go at this hour of the night?”

  Rosie shrugged. “I don’t care where you go. You aren’t staying here. Go to the woman you just left. Or does she have a husband who wouldn’t approve? Three minutes.”

  Kent’s arm snaked across the table to reach for Rosie’s dress to yank her forward. In the blink of an eye, Luna Mae was in the room and had the melted candle wax that was still dripping in her hand. She tossed it at him, getting him on the right cheek. “Take your hands off her!”

  “You pitiful hippie reject. You’ll pay for this,” Kent yowled in pain.

  “Don’t go there, Kent.”

  “Luna Mae, call the caband the police.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m going,” Kent snarled. “You know what, you’re a disgusting blimp. You turn my stomach. Just sleeping in the same room with you made my skin crawl. I’m glad to be rid of you. At least I can stop pretending where you’re concerned.”

  Rosie didn’t flinch at the verbal onslaught even though she felt like she was dying. She hated that Luna Mae was hearing her husband’s low opinion of her.

  “Why did you marry me, Kent?” She made the words sound like she was asking about the current weather conditions.

  “For a meal ticket. What other reason would I marry a walrus like you? I want half of everything,” he bellowed.

  A car horn shattered the night.

  “Cab’s here,” Luna Mae chirped. “I bounced the trash bags down the stairs.”

  Her heart in shreds, Rosie looked straight at her husband. “Your me
al ticket’s just been canceled. Now get the hell out of my house and don’t ever come near it again. Like I said, have your lawyer call my lawyer.”

  “You’re nothing but a fat pig with big feet. I was ashamed to be seen with you. Why do you think I never wanted to go anywhere with you?” Kent bellowed as he grabbed the bags and made his way to the front door Luna Mae was holding open.

  When the front door finally closed behind her husband, and Luna Mae shot the dead bolt, Rosie collapsed against her, sobbing.

  “Cry, baby, get it all out now. Tomorrow is a whole new day and a whole new life. Tonight belongs to the past. It’s over and done with. The man isn’t worth your little finger.”

  “Did you know he thought all those things about me, Luna Mae?”

  Always brutally honest, the housekeeper mumbled, “Yes.”

  “He didn’t evenlike me. How am I going to live with that?”

  “By not thinking about it. I’m going to make you a cup of hot chocolate. Go up to bed, Rosie. Sleep in the guest room tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll take out those twin beds and get Drew the gardener to help me move the big bed back into your room. Go on, scoot. Oh, by the way, while I was in the kitchen I saw on TV, they picked the lottery number, and I didn’t win. I’m glad I only bought one ticket. Here,” she said, holding out the slip of paper to Rosie.

  Rosie reached for it and smiled. “I told you, you wouldn’t win. Kent bought a hundred dollars’ worth. I wonder if he won.” She handed the ticket back to Luna Mae, who refused to take it. Rosie shoved it in the pocket of her dress.

  “I hope tomorrow is a better day than today. I feel like someone sucker punched me. Thanks for everything, Luna Mae. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “You would have managed. Go on now, I’ll be up with the hot chocolate in a minute. No more crying. I want your promise.”

  Her eyes wet and shiny, Rosie held up her hand and muttered, “I promise.”

  Wide-eyed, Rosie watched the hands on the clock move toward the six. She reached out and pressed the button before the alarm went off. She hadn’t closed her eyes once during the long night. Instead, she’d tortured herself reliving each day of her marriage. How was it possible, she wondered, for one person to be so incredibly stupid? While she’d never wanted a claustrophobic, all-encompassing marriage like her parents had had, she had hoped for at least a little closeness, a little sharing, a certain camaraderie with secret knowing smiles once in a while. A pat to the shoulder, intimate things whispered in her ear from time to time wasn’t too much to expect. She’d bombed out from the git-go.

  Did she love Kent Bliss? Or did she love the idea of love?

  She’d been thirty-three when she married Kent. Men weren’t looking at oversize women who were thirty-three. They wanted skinny twenty-three-year-olds. She’d been too shy and introverted at twenty-three to seek out men. Besides, men wanted willowy blondes with tiny waists. She didn’t qualify in either department. Four years ago, when Kent Bliss winked at her in the post office, she’d actually looked around, unable to believe that he was winking at her. She’d blushed and smiled. Then they’d struck up a conversation while they waited in line. Since he was ahead of her, she watched as he bought money orders. That should have been her first clue. A man without a checking account just wasn’t normal.

  She remembered how her heart had fluttered when she found him waiting for her outside. She’d been so flustered she could barely talk. He’d asked her to go for coffee. She’d gone with misgivings. Misgivings because she couldn’t imagine why someone like Kent would be interested in someone like her, who was so overweight with no social skills when it came to men. If she had ever known how to flirt, she’d forgotten the rules. The best she could hope for was that she didn’t embarrass herself. Kent spent the whole time talking about himself, which was okay with her because she was tongue-tied. He’d scoped her out that day, asking where she lived, what she did for a living.

  God, how she’d loved the look of him. Loved the way other people looked at the two of them. She felt proud, honored, to be in his company. She’d been one sick puppy back then. She had to have been blind at the time not to see what Luna Mae and Vickie called the handwriting on the wall.

  After that first meeting, Kent stopped by for breakfast, then he stopped by for dinner. He never stayed, always saying he had a meeting or a late showing. She’d bought into it to her friend’s dismay. Their first date had been a total disaster. Dinner at a fast-food restaurant, the service so fast, she hadn’t finished her meal when Kent whisked her to the movies. He hadn’t held her hand or even leaned close to her. His cell phone rang six times during the movie. Six times he excused himself and went out to the lobby. She watched the movie by herself.

  There were more dates like that one, with a peck on the cheek at the end of the night. They were dates, though, and that’s what she wanted. At the time.

  No one had been more surprised than she when Kent offered her a ring, the diamond so small she had to squint to see it. A chip actually. She told herself a diamond was a diamond, and if he couldn’t afford better, it was all right with her. Luna Mae had just clucked her tongue when she saw it. Vickie had laughed outright. She’d told them to back off and leave her alone.

  Rosie’s face burned now when she remembered the night she’d invited him to her bed. He’d looked at her, a stunned expression on his face. He stammered something that sounded like he had a low sex drive and hoped that wouldn’t make a difference. She’d bought into that, too, making excuses to herself.

  She spent a lot of time wondering how someone so lean and hard, so good-looking, so polished, so suave, could have a low sex drive. She finally decided she wasn’t enough of a turn-on for her fiancé. She bought sexy magazines, bought sexy clothes, boned up on sexual techniques. He’d laughed at her. She’d been so wounded, so hurt, she’d hunkered down and hidden out for weeks, refusing to face him. Then he’d shown up with a wilted daisy one night and asked her to forgive him. He’d even brought her a box of Crackerjacks and let her find the silly prize. Of the entire four years of her relationship with Kent, that was her only positive memory.

  The door opened. Rosie sat up. She looked at Luna Mae before she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Before you ask, no, I did not sleep. I stared at the ceiling all night long trying to figure out if I overreacted. I didn’t. What’s for breakfast?”

  Luna Mae was dressed in a blue-and-white seersucker jumpsuit whose huge pockets had gold zipper closures. She wore her braids pinned to the top of her head like a coronet. “It depends if you’re waffling where the diet is concerned. I, myself, am having pancakes.”

  “I’m dieting. How about a yogurt, some fruit, and toast?”

  “I can do that. I’ll have it ready by the time you shower and dress. At what point are you going to start trying out that exercise equipment?”

  “Before lunch. I need to work this morning, Luna Mae. Remember now, call the locksmith this morning. I already changed the code on the alarm. While you’re on the phone, call the Porsche dealer and have them tow the car to the dealership. Tell him we’ll take whatever we can get for it provided it’s a decent offer. Do the same with the boat in the marina. Also look into getting me a personal trainer.”

  Luna Mae’s closed fist shot in the air. “Yessss.”

  Thirty minutes later, Rosie was peeling an orange when Luna Mae said, “Shhh, listen to this. The winning ticket for that big $302 million Wonderball was sold right here in Savannah. They don’t know yet who the winner is, though.”

  “With my luck, it was probably Kent who won. He bought a hundred dollars’ worth of tickets.” Rosie didn’t even look at the screen when the numbers flashed.

  Luna Mae switched channels. “If you had that much money, what would you do with it, Rosie?”

  “I don’t have a clue. Don’t dump what-ifs on me this morning. It’s all I can do to handle the what-ises. Kent’s going to be coming by here today at some point. I know it as
sure as I’m sitting here. Don’t let him in the house and keep the doors locked. I’ll use the fans in the garage and open the window but not the doors. Call the police if he shows up.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Are you okay, baby?”

  Rosie’s eyes filled. She shook her head. “One day at a time, Luna Mae. If I can get through today, tomorrow will be better. The day after that even better. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Luna Mae.”

  “Then we won’t talk about it anymore. Are you going to need me to help with packing the orders?”

  “I don’t think so. If Alice and Danny show up, I have it covered. I need to print out the orders from the Internet and process them. The first printing of the Christmas catalog is going out in July. The cattails are going to be a big seller. I’ll even go so far as to predict they’ll be 85 percent of our Christmas business. I can’t make up my mind which one I like best, the gold or the silver cattails. I’ll see you later.”

  Luna Mae looked down at the half-eaten yogurt, the toast that was barely nibbled on, and three-quarters of the orange. If Rosie kept eating like this, she’d shed those fifty-five pounds in two weeks. And that wasn’t good.

  3

  Jason Maloy stared through the slats of the blind that covered the window of his office. Was that his employee, Kent Bliss, getting out of a cab? He watched, frowning, as the man counted out change from his pocket. He continued to frown as he watched Kent stretch his neck, adjust his tie, and shrug his shoulders inside his sport jacket.

  Jason Maloy didn’t like Kent Bliss, never had, but the man added a touch of class to his company. He looked good sitting up at the front desk. And he was a charmer. The Porsche he drove didn’t hurt either. Everyone knew he wore a Rolex watch because he made a point of looking at it a hundred times a day.

  Women flocked to Kent, the buyers and the lookie-looks. Unfortunately, he wasn’t much of a salesman when it came to properties, but he was a hell of salesman when it came to promoting himself. He’d probably bedded every single female in town and half the married ones. He worked just enough to keep up his million-dollar status on the boards, which sounded pretty grand but, at a 3 percent commission, yielded him a less-than-grand paycheck. The rest of the time he golfed, played tennis, or hung out at the ritzy country club where his wife had a membership. Why work when he had a stay-at-home wife who footed his bills?