Beyond the Breaking Point (9 page)

Max was rich. He downplayed his status, choosing instead to live on his earnings. But his family not only had money, they came from money—old money. His family owned a string of Italian restaurants and pizzerias. They weren’t snobbish with it, though, and neither was Max. When he’d asked Max about it, he’d said his parents had taught him that money shouldn’t define the person you were. It was simply something you had. A tool meant to be used in life like any other.

Amber had taken one look at Max, made the connection to his family, and latched on for dear life. Phillip wished Max had never met her. She was ruining his marriage. He and Cassidy were still recovering from the last slut who’d put the moves on him.

Although, that was a totally different situation
, he mentally defended himself.

He’d been sitting in the bar drinking. His clients had long left but Phillip had no one waiting for him at home. Cassidy was at work. She’d always been working at that damned hospital, delivering everyone else’s babies but refusing to get pregnant so they could have a family of their own. He’d known as a doctor her career would be demanding. Hell, he was a lawyer. He understood long hours, but he hadn’t known he was marrying a workaholic.

So there he’d sat, minding his own damn business, drinking whiskey sours when she’d come over, sidled up onto the bar stool next to him and started a conversation. “What’s a handsome man like you doing here all alone?” Taping his wedding ring, she’d asked, “Where’s your wife? You want some company?”

As she leaned forward, her neckline had gaped and he’d gotten an eyeful of big, bare breasts and tight nipples. Phillip had been unable to tear his gaze away. Smiling, she’d noticed and talked him into buying her a drink.

She’d verbally stroked his ego, encouraging him to pour out all his marriage woes. The woman had been a good listener, asking all the right questions, and hanging onto his every word. The next damn thing he knew, her slender hand had been on his crotch, stroking his cock. The details became blurry after that.

He clearly remembered checking into a nearby cheap motel. He also remembered having her dress around her waist and his cock in her pussy as soon as the door closed. Phillip couldn’t recall her name or what she’d looked like. Only that she’d been an excellent piece of tail and sucked cock like a high-classed whore.

Afterward, when he’d sobered enough to realize the time, he rushed home, arriving before Cassidy who’d assisted with a late-evening delivery that had taken hours. She’d come home, hit the shower and dropped into an exhausted sleep, none the wiser.

He’d felt like a piece of shit, but really, if she’d spent more time being a wife and less being a doctor, it would have never happened. Then she’d shown him that medical report…

Phillip sighed, reminding himself that it was water under the bridge. Cassidy had forgiven him. He was sure he could convince her to do it again. After all, it was Amber’s fault,
the cunt
. Their marriage counselor would agree with him. 

Sure, Cassidy would be angry for a while. Okay, make that a long while, but eventually she’d calm down. He’d have to suffer through her moving out of their bedroom again and into the guestroom while giving him the silent treatment. He’d take her out to dinner, buy her flowers, and do that romance thing women loved so much and gradually she’d soften toward him.

Phillip spent the rest of the flight making plans to win his wife back. After they landed and he had his luggage from the baggage claim, he glanced up when Amber called his name. “Can I catch a ride with you?”

He scowled. “You’re joking, right?”

“No. You have a car, don’t you? Why should I pay for a cab when you can give me a ride?” she asked, totally clueless.

Phillip hoped he had a car. For all he knew, Cassidy had taken it and it was parked in the garage at the house. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number. No answer. He tried again. She was letting her calls rollover to voicemail. Giving up, he decided to check the garage. Cassidy wasn’t the vengeful type. She’d sent him the ticket information, hadn’t she? More than likely, she’d caught a ride with Max and left him the vehicle.

“If I never see you again, it will be too soon. And word of advice, you’d better hope like hell Max isn’t there when you arrive,” he said coldly and walked off.

“Phillip, wait!”

He flipped her the bird and kept going, smiling grimly when she called out, “Bastard!” to his retreating back.

Cassidy stared in the mirror at her bloodshot eyes, sallow-looking skin with its underlying pallor, and the dark raccoon-like circles under her eyes. “Ugh! This is not the face of a woman ready to move on with her life,” she told her reflection. “The past is over. Quit beating yourself up over what you should have or could have done differently. It’s a waste of time.” She pointed at the mirror. “You have to return to work on Monday. If you don’t want people all up in your business, get a grip. No one seeing this face will believe you just spent a week vacationing in sunny Florida.”

She felt like fool talking to herself, but the mini-pep talk helped put her into a more positive frame of mind. The week was already half over and there was so much she still needed to get done. If she thought about it too much, the stress would overwhelm her.

“One step at a time, Cassidy, and one problem at a time. That’s all you can handle,” she reminded herself.

She washed her face and put on a light coat of makeup to boost her self-confidence. Good thing she’d decided against asking anyone for help. She was definitely not looking her best. Besides, she had the hotel for the rest of the week. No one said she had to move everything today. She’d begin with the kitchen, cleaning and organizing the shelves and drawers to her satisfaction and when she finished, she’d move on to the bathroom.

Cassidy opened the mini-fridge but nothing looked appealing. “Okay, so no breakfast for me this morning. Hmm, looks like a stop by Starbucks is in order. Better get hopping.”

She could actually feel her caffeine-deprived system calling out for sustenance. Before the withdrawal headache could kick in, Cassidy plugged in her MP3 player and got busy. She’d organized her belongings the night before and simply needed to load them into the SUV. When she finished, every available space with the exception of the driver’s seat was filled. She paused to wipe the sweat from her face and take a long gulp of water. Then she climbed in and after a quick stop through Starbuck’s drive-thru, made the drive to her new home.

Once at the apartment, one look at the distance she’d have to tote all her belongs had Cassidy palming her phone, fingers posed to call Max.

No, no, no
, she admonished herself.
You’re a big girl. Leave Max out of this
.

Cassidy took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and grabbed the first item. Unloading took longer, but finally she had everything in a pile in the living room. As she worked, her mind replayed the events in Orlando. Maybe if she’d made Phillip come shopping with her, none of this would have ever happened.

That’s foolish thinking, Cassidy. Phillip’s a grown man, not a child. He shouldn’t have to be guarded from making his own mistakes.

He did say Amber caught him sleeping, and she knew from experience that her husband was a sound sleeper. Was she expecting too much? Could any man have resisted if he woke to find a woman’s hand on his cock, disoriented as he must have been?

Yes, Amber was a bitch going after Phillip the way she did. There’s no disputing it, but if you woke to find a man’s hand—hell, even his mouth—on your sex, wouldn’t you knock him away? Besides, you saw the stuff on his computer. What happened in Orlando was only a matter of time coming.

As Cassidy’s common sense and her softer side warred, her kitchen began to sparkle, the shelves and drawers were lined with paper, and all her kitchen items were stored in their proper place.

Once again Cassidy’s hand went to her phone. She needed an unbiased opinion. Wanted the advice and commiserating pat on the back only a true friend, her friend Erika, could offer. But Erika was probably at work. Make that lunch, Cassidy thought, with a glance at her watch.

Erika Horne was also a doctor, but her specialty was pediatrics. She and Erika had met during the rigorous training of residency and had quickly bonded, becoming fast friends. Like Cassidy, Erika was also married. Her husband, David, was an elementary schoolteacher who loved children and was a really nice guy. Together the two had an adorable little girl named Macey. Cassidy’s schedule didn’t allow them to spend a lot of time together but they talked, texted, and emailed every day, keeping current.

She played with the screen, debating. Call or wait? Glancing around at all that still needed to be done, Cassidy decided to wait.

She rubbed her temples in a clockwise motion, rotated her head on her shoulders to loosen the tension knotting the muscles there, and reached up to free her hair from the ponytail. As a doctor, she knew she needed to eat—the rolling in her gut from the caffeine was a constant reminder—but Cassidy was making visible progress and didn’t want to stop. The bathroom shouldn’t take too long, seeing how it was basically clean already. Then she could go get lunch.

It took her another hour to get everything to her satisfaction, but once finished she was pleased with the results. She looked around the apartment. The cable company would be here tomorrow to hook her up, and the first of her furniture deliveries would begin as well. Since both were scheduled to be here in the morning, Cassidy decided she needed to make another run and bring over another carload of items. It’s not like she had anything better to do.

As she was driving, Neyo’s “Make It Work” blasted from her cell phone. Phillip. Cassidy’s hand hovered over the phone. Slowly, she withdrew it.

He called again, and again. Each time she forced herself to let it go to voicemail. Soon he’d no longer be a part of her life. She needed to remember that. Which reminded her, she needed to change her ringtone for him. Maybe she’d download Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats,” or Rhianna’s “Take a Bow.” Yeah, she’d definitely be changing his ringtone to reflect his new status in her life before the day was over.