My Secret Alpha Step SEAL

by Paula Mabbel

  Clover doubled over laughing. “Let’s skip Thai food and just go back and order Chinese. I’m glad we came out, but now I kind of just want to go back to the room.”

  Maggie’s eyes grew wide with excitement.

  “Do you mean ‘back to the room,’ or… back to the room?”

  Clover fell over laughing again. “Both. Either. Whatever. Let’s just go home.”

  * * *

  Clover and Maggie wrapped their arms and legs around each other, naked skin touching naked skin. Each kiss was filled with the love and desire they’d been feeling for one another for so long, now set free by their ability to be together, and lost in only each other. Clover ran her fingers through Maggie’s long hair as she bathed her forehead in soft kisses, her body alight with the feeling of Maggie’s breasts brushing against her own.

  Even with all of the hard work ahead of them in school, all of the complications they might face in the future, neither woman had ever been happier. And they knew that whatever challenges they faced, they could face them together, in one another’s arms.

  *****

  The End

  First Time’s A Charm

  “I’m sorry,” Bill said. Standing, he ran a hand over his balding head before walking to the liquor cabinet across the room.

  “Sorry? That doesn’t help me, now does it?” I knew that it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the anger that boiled inside me. “How can he do this?”

  Sitting back down at the desk, Bill began to try and explain the situation I was in and how it had come to be. Having been a family friend for many years, he didn’t use his newly acquired position as my attorney to speak to me as though I were dumb. In fact, he was very clear and precise about just what was going on now and what I could expect to happen.

  Even as he spoke, I found my mind drifting. Regardless of how well Bill explained the circumstances to me, I would never be able to wrap my mind around them. Everything had happened so quickly that my brain was still in shock.

  It had only been two weeks. Fourteen days. Yet my life had turned completely upside down. Nothing made sense to me any longer, and I was only now reaching the point of even trying to fight back. Until that morning I’d spent most of my time thinking it was just a phase and everything would go back to normal at any time.

  I was wrong.

  My husband of four years had left me and he had no intention of coming back. It’d been a blow to more than my ego, which had believed that our relationship was perfect and would last forever. It’d been like a wrecking ball to my entire life.

  When Bryant and I had met in college, I was halfway through my pre-law degree. Becoming a lawyer had been my goal since sixth grade, and I was closer than I’d ever been, with a 4.0 GPA and what seemed a permanent spot on the dean’s list. There was no time to be sidetracked by love and romance.

  He was persistent, however, and I’d fallen hard within only a couple of months. Bryant was every girl’s dream catch. Wealthy, attractive and powerful with a life already set in stone and waiting on him to catch up. He would finish his degree and take his rightful place at the side of his father in their international company. Bryant Welch would be a billionaire before I finished law school.

  Needless to say, my dumbass self had married him just after graduation and postponed my enrollment in law school. Instead I’d become a loving and devoted wife, attending parties, chairing events and helping local charities while he built his fortune and reputation in the most elite circles of Atlanta.

  I lived the perfect life, or so I thought, until two weeks before when I’d received the phone call that every wife dreads. My husband had left me and was filing for divorce.

  I’d never worked. I’d never finished school. I had no real experience in the world. I’d spent years of my adulthood relying on Bryant and what he had, only to discover that he no longer wanted to share that life with me.

  In the beginning I’d tried to believe that he would change his mind and come home. Our kind of love was rare. You couldn’t just walk away from it.

  After a few days I was starting to accept that maybe he could. It would be okay, though. I still had the house, and certainly he would have to give me alimony. I’d be able to finish my degree and go back to the life I’d originally planned. It hurt that he didn’t love me and that I was getting divorced, but with no children to think about the process should be simple.

  It wasn’t until close to two weeks into it that I’d received word that he was fighting everything. Nothing about this divorce case was going to be simple. He was fighting alimony, he was fighting giving me any of our personal property and now he was fighting my right to live in our home. The only home I’d had since leaving college. He was actually trying to take it away from me.

  That was what it’d taken for me to call Bill. He’d been friends with my parents for years and from what I’d heard he was a hell of a divorce attorney. He’d taken my case gladly, and that’s what led me to his office on what should have been an ordinary Tuesday afternoon.

  “He wanted me to skip law school,” I interrupted when he told me of Bryant’s claim that I hadn’t helped to earn anything and therefore didn’t deserve it. “He wanted me to be home to help him build his reputation.”

  “I know.” Bill looked at me with compassion. “I’m willing to fight this if you want, Aubrey,” he continued. “I will do whatever I can to help you gain something until you get on your feet. I’m just not sure that we will win all that you are asking.”

  “Why? I’m his wife. I didn’t wake up one Wednesday and decide I didn’t want to be that anymore. Why do I not get a say in this?”

  “The charge from—”

  “That has nothing to do with now!” I interrupted him. “All college kids do stupid things. I’ve lived an exemplary life since then. That can’t be held against me.”

  “It can,” Bill corrected. “If he can show that it has any correlation to the events afterwards — for example you not finishing school or obtaining a job — he could win.”

  “It’d be a lie,” I yelled. “A bald-faced lie!”

  “Maybe,” Bill nodded, “but how many people do you know who would dare to accuse a Welch of lying? Out of those who would, how many do you think would win that argument?”

  His words made sense, even as I didn’t want to listen.

  “So what do I do?”

  “You are going to have to leave the house until the hearing,” he shrugged. “The judge will decide from there.”

  “It’s my home,” I whined, my voice showing the fear I felt inside. “Where am I supposed to go?”

  “I don’t know, Aubrey,” he said. “Do you have a friend you can call?”

  “I don’t really have any of my own friends anymore.” My head hung towards the floor. They are all his friends. They’d never help me.”

  “How about someone before you met him?”

  “Well, there was my college roommate,” I remembered. “Emily.”

  “That’s a start,” he encouraged.

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “We haven’t spoken since college. Since I met…since I moved out of our room and into an apartment with him during senior year. I haven’t talked to her since.”

  “Now sounds like a good time to reconnect.”

  “I guess.” At least it was something, even if it didn’t pan out. “You’re right. I guess I’ll call Emily.”

  *****

  “Thank you so much, Emily,” I said for the fourth time as I carried what little I was allowed to take into her spare bedroom. “I don’t know what I would have done if—”

  “That’s what friends are for,” she smiled, which only made me feel more guilty for abandoning her years before. I had a knack for that. Turning my back and regretting it later. “Aubrey, I am glad to help.”

  She had a small extra room that she had told me was only used for occasional company. I still felt as though I were int
ruding. The phone call had been one of the most difficult that I’d ever made, but she appeared to understand. I wasn’t sure how. Hell, she’d never been married, let alone divorced.

  She wasn’t into men. Maybe that was why she’d never had to face what I was facing now. It was almost enough to make me wish I were a lesbian.

  “I just feel so bad,” I said. I couldn’t shake the guilt that I felt over calling her out of the blue. “I’m invading your home and your life.”

  “It’s no trouble. Trust me. Might be nice to have someone to talk to besides Princess.” She picked up the white fluffy cat and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Princess? I always thought you were more original than that, Em.” I reached to pet her and she hissed.

  “See? She thinks she runs the castle.” Setting Princess down, Emily laughed again and offered me a cup of coffee. “So, what happened, anyway? I thought you and Bry were the picture perfect couple.”

  “So did I,” I mumbled, hoping she didn’t hear the disappointment in my voice. “He called from work one day and told me that it was over and he was filing for divorce.”

  “Damn.” She came back carrying two huge mugs. “No clue what spawned it?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I kept thinking he’d change his mind. We had no real problems. No arguments. Nothing. I thought maybe he was feeling too pressured in life and once he relaxed he’d be back to normal.”

  “Girl, that just doesn’t happen,” she laughed. “Straight women are so crazy. Always hoping things will be better. Why spend your life in hope? Jump ship and be happy.”

  “We were married, Em,” I reminded her. “That’s not a commitment I take lightly.”

  “Apparently he did,” she pointed out, making me cringe a little. “Probably bangin’ some chick on the side.”

  “I doubt it.” That was the one thing I had felt confident about. “He was never really one to notice women.”

  “Okay,” she agreed halfheartedly. “Probably bangin’ some dude on the side.”

  “Emily!” I laughed at her comment, but didn’t especially appreciate it. “It’s not someone else. I just don’t know what it is.”

  “Do you care? He kicked you out of your home! He’s using something minor to force his way into what he wants. Does it matter anymore why he’s doing it? Would you really take him back?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, honestly. That was always the way I spoke, and this was no different.

  Truth be known, I probably would. Not because I believed I deserved what he had done, but because I took marriage very seriously. I believed in forgiveness and second chances.

  “Lord help you.” She shook her head as she watched me sip the coffee. “I’m assuming you never finished school?”

  “No,” I admitted reluctantly. “He wanted me to be home and support him.”

  “Right.” An eye roll told me how she felt about that. “Were you guys happy?”

  “Yes,” I nodded. “No real fights. Busy, but happy. We didn’t see each other nearly as much as I’d have liked.”

  “Why not?”

  “He was always busy with work. Even the events we attended often separated us. I was busy working the crowd with charm, he was busy working them with business. We didn’t have many chances to connect. Know what I mean?”

  “And sex?”

  “Ha!” I feigned a laugh. “When we had it, it was good.”

  “But you never had it? You guys aren’t even thirty yet!” Emily seemed amazed at the idea that I would be sexless in my marriage.

  “We had it,” I argued. “Just not often. Like I said, life was busy.”

  “It’s never too busy for orgasms, babe.” Throwing her head back, she laughed again, and I felt an ache inside. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even really been touched. “Well at least now you are single and able to satisfy that need again.”

  “I would never.” I couldn’t imagine another man touching me. “I’m married.”

  “To a man who left you, kicked you out of your house and is fighting you for everything you own,” she reminded me. “I’d say you deserve to get off with some hot and wild sex in the midst of this, wouldn’t you?”

  “I guess so.” Shrugging, I thought about what she was saying. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  “Looking like you do, anywhere is a good place.” Her laughter made me feel welcome and happy. “If you ever decide to flip sides, let me know. I’d do you in a fucking heartbeat.”

  My face flushed as she spoke the words. I knew she was a lesbian back in college, but that was the first time she’d ever even joked about attraction to me. I wasn’t sure if it made me uncomfortable because I didn’t like it, or because I did.

  *****

  “Motherfucker!” I screamed as I slammed my phone onto the side table.

  “Bry?” Emily’s head popped out of the kitchen for a moment to check on me.

  “Do I know any other motherfuckers?” I laughed. “What are you doing, anyway?”

  “Making dinner,” she answered with a shrug as if it were a normal event. I knew better. Normal was take-out around her place. “Don’t look at me like that. I do know how to cook.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I countered.

  “So, what’s the loser doing now?” she asked, always willing to let me vent to her about my problems. “Or do I really want to know?”

  “What isn’t he doing would be the better question,” I mumbled. “He is fighting everything. Every fucking thing down to the art I collected. He says it was his money and he was the one who asked me to buy it. He’s lying. He hated when I bought art.”

  “Of course he’s lying, Aub.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s what he does. He lies. Always has.”

  A twinge of guilt shot through me again. She knew I would remember Bryant telling me that Emily had tried to sleep with him one night when I’d been at the library and he’d stopped by. I didn’t want to believe him. Hell, at first I hadn’t believed him. She was a lesbian. But he’d been so convincing. Telling me I should forgive her because she was really drunk — I had bought it completely.

  Naturally it’d made me angry and I’d confronted her. She told me that she couldn’t believe I would think she would do something like that to me. I asked her to prove she hadn’t. She refused. Told me that if I truly believed that about her there was no point. There was no trust.

  So I’d moved out, hastily and without much thought. I’d left our dorm and moved right in with Bryant as he’d asked me to a week or so prior — a request that I’d refused until then.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, hoping she heard me, but didn’t turn it into a big deal.

  “It’s been a while, Aub,” she nodded. “I’m over it.”

  “I knew better,” I admitted. “I just didn’t want him to—”

  “Be what he is?”

  “Yes,” I nodded, admitting the truth. “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, it’s not every day I get accused of trying to steal someone’s man,” she laughed. “Especially when I’d rather have the woman accusing me.”

  I felt a small shudder again as she spoke the last part. Had I heard her correctly? Did she want me? Back then, even? How had I never known that?

  “So, what are you cooking?” Sometimes it was easier for me to ignore what I heard or felt until I was ready to deal with it. This was one such time. “It smells good.”

  “Chicken Alfredo with broccoli,” she smiled.

  “That’s my favorite!” I hadn’t even tasted it in so long I’d forgotten how much I loved it. “It’s been forever since I’ve had it.”

  “I know,” she grinned. “Well, I know it’s your favorite. I’m surprised you haven’t had it.”

  “We didn’t eat a lot of pasta,” I admitted. “Bryant preferred meat and veggies.”

  “Well, good thing he’s not here,” she laughed. “I doubt he preferred them with pasta and a heavy-duty delicious cheese sauce.”
/>
  “Not at all.” I couldn’t believe that the one time she cooked she was making my favorite meal. How had I walked away from a friend who was so good to me? “I hope that you are also making garlic bread.”

  “No.” She shook her head, and I felt a tinge of disappointment. “I am, however, making cheesy garlic bread.”

  “Oh, my God,” I squealed and jumped up and down in the kitchen like a child. “I love you, Em!” Leaning over, I kissed her cheek and felt her flinch. I quickly pulled back.

  “You damn well should,” she told me, keeping herself busy to avoid what had just happened. “This is a lot of work.”

  “You could have ordered in,” I reminded her.

  “I wanted to do this,” she smiled, but wouldn’t look at me. “For you. I wanted to do this for you.”

  “Thanks,” a few moments of awkward silence passed before I turned to the cabinet behind me. “I’ll set the table,” I offered, grabbing dishes and carrying them into the small dining room that was connected to her living room.

  “Put out some wine glasses,” she yelled. “I picked up a bottle of the good stuff just for tonight.”

  “I feel like a kid in the candy store,” I giggled. “You sure know how to make a bad day better.”

  “I try,” she laughed.

  “Emily, Queen of Stress Relief,” I teased.

  “Well, if you want real stress relief, I have a few other things up my sleeve,” I heard her tease back and felt my body freeze. She was really pushing those comments that night, and I found myself not sure how to handle it.

  “I bet,” I laughed it off and tried to change the conversation. “So, Bill thinks I have no shot at a damn thing,” I told her.

  “So give it up,” she suggested, walking into the room carrying a dish of steaming hot pasta.

  “And do what, Em?” I asked, unsure of how I’d live my life with no income.

  “Go back to law school? Find true love? Move on without Bryant Welch and his assholeishness?”

  “I have no money. No job. Nothing,” I told her.