Love Becomes Her (5 page)

S
tephanie listened to the phone ring and checked the number on the caller ID.
Conrad.
Her heart began to race.

Things had gone too far. Conrad was out of control. She pressed her fist to her mouth as she listened to his voice on the answering machine.

“Steph, if you’re there pick up. We need to talk. Stephanie, pick up. I know you’re home. Your car is parked out front.”

She ran to the window and peeked out from between the slats in the blinds five stories below. Conrad’s silver Lexus was in front of her door.

“Open the door or I’m using my key.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. In a stupid moment of lust she’d given him her spare key so that he could “slip between her and her sheets whenever he wanted.” She would have to get the locks changed and pronto.

She finger fluffed her short do, smoothed her
lemon yellow fitted sweater top over her tight jeans and picked up the phone. “I’m here,” she murmured and felt ill.

“I’ll be right up.”

Stephanie sat in the armchair facing the door as she heard the locks release and watched the knob turn. She slid her hand down between the cushion and felt the security of cold metal brush her fingers. She’d shoot him if she had to. Simple as that.

Conrad walked in, all smiles, and when she looked at him, for a moment she forgot everything she’d promised herself to remember; that he was using her, that he’d physically hurt her, that he was never going to leave his wife and that she wasn’t getting any more promotions if she wasn’t putting out any more of her body. He’d made that clear the other night.

Instead, she thought about how he made her feel, how he’d awakened the dormant sexuality in her that had spun out of control, how he’d been the first man in her life to help her experience a real orgasm. That had never happened to her before, until she’d met Conrad. He made her do things that she’d only imagined, and she enjoyed it. And he’d become more demanding as the months progressed. As much as he’d begun to disgust her, he still thrilled her, and that was worse than anything else.

“Hey, baby.” He crossed the room, leaned down and kissed her long and slow.

“Hi,” she whispered when he stepped back.

He looked down at her. “You look tired. Long night?”

That tone was in his voice, the cajoling, demanding tone that preceded the innuendos and accusations.

“Not really.” She shrugged. “Just an evening with the girls.”

“Hmm.” He took his jacket off and tossed it on the couch. “The girls, huh? You sure about that?” His dark eyes grew hard, the line between his brow deepened.

Her breath tightened in her chest. “Of course I’m sure.” She stood. He pushed her back down in the chair then leaned over her, locking her in place with his hands on either side of the chair’s arms.

“Sure there were no guys there?”

“No,” she croaked.

“I don’t believe you.” He pulled her up by the wrist and up to his chest. His arm wrapped around her body. He pressed his lips to her neck and inhaled her scent. “Show me what you did,” he said in an urgent whisper.

“I…didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t believe you.” He bit down on her neck and sucked it gently, then with more urgency. “Show me.” His free hand slid up her sweater. She trembled at his touch.

“Conrad…please…”

“Yes, I know, baby…”

He lowered her to the floor and as much as she hated what he was doing to her body, she couldn’t find the will to resist. Her cries were as much in ecstasy as they were ones for help.

Conrad looked down at her huddled on the floor as he zipped his pants. He smiled as if he truly cared about her. “We have a major new client coming in on Monday. I want you to run the program. You’re the best, and if anyone can land this big fish you can.”

She turned her head away and tried to cover her shame with her discarded sweater, even as her body still throbbed with pleasure.

“And I promise you, Steph, if you get the account, your bonus will be your biggest ever.” He knelt down beside her and with a tenderness that made her heart constrict, he stroked her cheek. “You’re so beautiful, you know that.” His eyes ran over her face. He took his fingertip, placed it beneath her chin and turned her to face him. “Beautiful,” he said again. “And talented…on many levels. That’s why I love you, why I want you at my side.” He lowered his head and kissed her, then abruptly stood.

“I have to go. Son has a basketball game this afternoon.” He adjusted his clothes then picked up his jacket from the couch. “I’ll probably be back tonight. Late. Wait up for me.”

She nodded. He turned to leave. If she could find the strength, she could reach into the chair cushion,
take out the gun and shoot him where he stood. Then it would be over. Finally.

The door closed behind him and he was gone.

The sun was beginning to set when Stephanie came to herself and looked around. She’d stayed there curled in a knot on the floor like discarded laundry for hours. She’d lost track of time. Willing herself to move, she pushed up on her hands and knees and slowly stood.

She glanced down at her nude body, the angry red bruises on her stomach and stickiness between her thighs quick and painful reminders. She shivered and not from a chill. She reached for her clothes on the floor, nearly falling over as her head spun. Holding on to the furniture and the walls, she finally made it to the bathroom. She sat down on the lid of the commode and turned on the tub. At least the hot water would wash away the remnants from the outside, but she didn’t think anything could cleanse her battered spirit.

How could she have allowed her life to get so ugly, so out of control? She didn’t know what to do, how to fix it. Too many people relied on her and she couldn’t let them down. There was no way out. If she quit, she knew that Conrad would blacklist her. She’d never be able to work in New York or any other major city again. If she went to the board, no one would
believe her, not to mention how humiliated she would feel, having to confess the extent to which she’d participated over the past year.

She was trapped. Trapped by need, trapped by responsibility and trapped by her body. Conrad knew it and pushed all her hot buttons.

But it had gone too far now and she was afraid. She needed a way out, but she didn’t see any open doors in her future.

Her phone rang in the distance. She didn’t have the energy or the desire to get up and get it. She turned off the water to listen to the voice coming through the answering machine.

“Steph, it’s us, me Barbara and us,” she giggled, obviously excited. “We’re waiting for you at my house. Hurry up. And bring your laptop.”

Stephanie frowned in concentration. Waiting for her? What the hell for? Slowly the pieces began to fall into place and a glimmer of hope settled in her gut. Maybe a door was opening after all.

W
hen the doorbell rang at about eight o’clock, it was Stephanie who was the last to arrive, looking a bit frayed around the edges. Barbara kept her comments to herself as she quickly ushered Stephanie inside.

“You all right, girl?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” She forced a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “Hangover. I was, uh, still asleep when you called.”

She put her arm around Stephanie’s shoulders. “Not a problem. We were just running our mouths as usual.”

Barbara looked especially radiant, as if she’d found the secret of the universe and didn’t want to share, Stephanie observed, but she didn’t have the energy or her usual level of curiosity to press for details. Maybe it was the hair. It was out and curled instead of tied in that ponytail she usually wore. Yeah, maybe that was it, a new hairdo.

“Everybody here?”

“All in the living room. Ann has some exciting
news. Come on. Stephanie’s here,” Barbara announced as if they couldn’t see that for themselves.

“What happened to you?” Ann Marie blurted out. “You look awful.”

“Thanks,” Stephanie murmured and rolled her eyes. Ann Marie was always the one looking for a dig, but Stephanie was determined not to let her prying eyes or fast tongue get under her skin tonight. She took a seat at the end of the couch and put her laptop on the table. “So what’s with the big powwow? She leaned back against the cushions, looking from one to the other.

Ann Marie spoke up, using her polished British accent that she employed when dealing with her realty clients. “After our discussion last night, I did some research on available property in the neighborhood and found three buildings that could meet our needs.” She pulled out three printouts from her leather portfolio and placed them on the table. “This one—” she pointed to the first picture “—is on One Hundred and Twenty-seventh Street. This one,” she indicated the next picture, “is on One Sixteen. But this one I think is the best.” She passed the picture around. “It’s a four-story brownstone just off Fifth Avenue on One Twenty-four. It has all the original details, a finished basement, an ample backyard, four bedrooms, two huge sitting rooms and an enormous kitchen. But the best news is that it is in foreclosure, which is good for us.”

“What’s the bad news?” Barbara asked, ever practical.

“Well,” Ann Marie dragged out. “It’s in major disrepair. There has been a lot of water damage, the electrical system must be upgraded and it needs a new roof.”

The trio’s hopeful expressions sank. “Oh,” they chorused.

“But there are tons of programs to help buyers with those kinds of repairs,” she added quickly to quell their fears. “The thing now is to get in there, make a bid and get the property. The rest will take care of itself. And because it needs so much work, the asking price is much lower than the other two.”

“How much are we talking about?” Elizabeth asked.

Ann Marie’s lips pinched for a moment, this was always the time when her clients balked. “The asking price is only five hundred and sixty-five thousand.”

“Only!” Stephanie squeaked.

“You’re kidding,” Barbara stammered, visibly appalled.

“That’s more than a half million dollars for a house that’s falling apart,” Elizabeth added, the alarm in her voice almost comical.

They all began talking at once, wanting their point to be heard, and, of course, nothing was.

Finally Ann Marie stood, all five feet of her elevated by her heels, and held her hands over her head. She
began a tirade in a dialect so thick that all the other women could do was sit and stare. They couldn’t be sure if they were being cussed out or advised.

Now Ann Marie’s hands were braced on her rounded hips as she told them in no uncertain terms the value of property ownership, the financial rewards, tax breaks and more than anything, their dream coming true.

“We can do this. Just because the house costs that much doesn’t mean we can’t negotiate. Between us four we can make a solid down payment and I can work the numbers so that it won’t break us.” She waited for them to absorb her advice.

Their expressions slowly shifted from horror, to confusion, to understanding, to acceptance.

“I think we can do this,” Barbara said, looking from one to the other. “I know we can. I have some money stashed away. Marvin made sure that I would be taken care of, and I can’t think of any better way to use some of it.”

“I have plenty of equity in my house,” Elizabeth said, “and I’m sure not going to let that…bastard and his girlfriend get their hands on it.” She gave a sharp nod of her head to emphasize her point.

“My extra income from my apartment building is just going in the bank. I’ll use that,” Ann Marie offered, then turned to Stephanie. “And you can toss in some of those bonuses you are always bragging about.”

Stephanie jumped up, her eyes like two daggers aimed at Ann Marie. “Go to hell.” She grabbed her laptop and ran out the door before anyone could react.

Ann Marie stood wide-eyed and innocent. “What did I say?”

“The same thing you always say,” Barbara snapped, heading for the door. “Too much.”

Barbara ran outside, catching up with Stephanie an instant before she put the key in the lock of her car door. She put her hand on her shoulder to turn her around.

“Steph, come on. You know Ann Marie doesn’t mean anything.” She came around to face Stephanie, who quickly turned her face away but not before Barbara saw her red eyes and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Steph, honey, what is it?”

Stephanie shook her head back and forth. “Just a really bad day, Barb, and you can’t fix it. Okay?” She pulled away from Barbara’s hold. “I gotta go.” She sniffed hard. “I’ll call you.” She opened her car door and got in. “And for the record, I’m in as long as I don’t have to deal with that…bitch!” She slammed the door shut and sped off, leaving Barbara to inhale a plume of exhaust fumes.

Barbara watched as Stephanie drove right past her building and kept on going.

Barbara returned to her apartment and gently closed the door. All eyes were on her when she reentered the living room.

“She says she’s in.” Barbara left out the rest.

“Maybe I should call her,” Ann Marie offered.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Elizabeth said. “Give her some space. Besides, you have an uncanny way of pissing Stephanie off.”

Ann Marie mumbled something under her breath. “I can get us in to see the properties on Monday if you all agree.”

“I’m off work at four on Monday,” Barbara said.

“After I see my attorney I’m free.” Elizabeth leaned back in her seat. “I’ll talk to him about what property rights I have while I’m there.”

“Good. So why don’t we all meet at my office on Monday at five-thirty?”

Barbara and Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

“You should be the one to tell Stephanie,” Ann Marie said to Barbara. “Unless, of course, she has one of her hot dates and can’t make it.” She folded her arms like a recalcitrant child and pouted.

“It’s statements like those that always has you in trouble.” Barbara shook her head. “You ladies hungry?”

Elizabeth stood and stretched. “No. I think I’ll go home.”

“Me, too,” Ann Marie said. “No telling what Raquel is up to in my house.”

Elizabeth and Barbara looked at each other but held their comments.

Ann Marie collected her paperwork and stuck
them back in her portfolio. She headed for the door then looked back at Elizabeth.

“Ellie, you comin’, chile? I can give you a lift.”

“I have my car. Thanks. Just going to use the bathroom before I leave. You go ahead. See you on Monday.”

Even though they all lived on the same stretch of Morningside Drive with one or two blocks separating them, they always drove their cars to each other’s homes. It was a standing joke between them.

Ann Marie shrugged. “Night then.” She waved and walked out.

“Whew,” Elizabeth breathed. “That got pretty ugly.”

“Hmm.”

“Did Stephanie say anything?”

Barbara repeated Stephanie’s parting comment and Elizabeth laughed, her first for the day.

“Sometimes I have to wonder if Ann Marie is intentionally vicious or if she really doesn’t know any better,” Barbara commented as they walked into the kitchen.

Elizabeth took a seat at the island counter and began spinning the napkin holder on the smooth marble surface.

“I’m really glad you stopped by today.” She looked up at Barbara, who was standing near the sink.

“So am I.” She smiled at her friend. “Want some iced tea?”

“Sure.”

She poured a glass for each of them and sat down. “So, how are you, really?”

“Other than feeling like my whole world has collapsed, I’m fine.” She was pensive for a moment. “I didn’t even see it happening. And I guess the question that haunts me is what did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything. This was Matt’s choice.”

“But I’m his wife. I should have noticed something.”

“Well, they say the wife is always the last to know. Maybe there were signs, maybe there weren’t. But the main thing is you. You have to take care of Ellie.”

Elizabeth took a sip of her drink and slowly nodded her head. She pushed out a long breath. “And I think our new venture is just what I need. What we all need.”

“So do I.” She smiled, her thoughts coming in a rush of possibilities. “So do I.”