Every Woman Needs a Wife (3 page)

T
anya’s face froze. Surely she hadn’t heard right. Emphasizing the point, Brandi stroked Tanya’s buttocks with one hand, relishing the woman’s wide eyes and tense body with every move. Violated, Tanya’s cheeks went from a bright red to white and back.

Brandi leaned in, whispering, “You should know that I’m the real source of the money. So I’m not above you doing me, either.”

Tanya trembled, face darkening with anger as she jerked back. She glanced at Vernon and just as suddenly her expression changed. The startled look in her eyes slowly fading, Tanya tilted her head back and roared with laughter.

Interesting
, Brandi thought,
and I was only joking
. The request was pure boldness, a way to shock them and frighten the hell out of Vernon. Judging from the third serving of cognac sloshing into his glass, she had managed—but then again, she had more up her sleeve.
If
she could make it home before he did.

Vernon stormed across the living room until the two of them stood eye to eye. “I think you’re taking a little too much credit here.” He took another long swig of cognac, nearly emptying the glass. “
I’m
the reason we’re so successful. It was
my
money that started things. I’m the real reason we made it, so get off it,
Mrs. High and Mighty.”

Brandi glowered at him. “You mean the money you got from your
daddy?
That was barely lunch money, just enough to buy a refrigerator and stove. And it may have helped to get things off the ground, but the ideas and drive
to pull everything together came from me.” Her gaze traveled the length of his well-toned body—one that hadn’t been draped in anything less than designer suits for years. “The business, the Armani suits, the six-figure income were all a
joint
effort,” she said, feeling a sudden rush of anger that he would belittle her efforts. “If I’d left things up to you, we’d still be stuck in that tiny storefront on Michigan Avenue, barely making ends meet. Seems like you forgot all that.”

“Wait a minute—”

“Oh, shut up, Vernon!” Brandi dropped back down on the sofa, resting a hand on the arm. Tanya offered her a glass of vodka. Brandi gazed into the woman’s eyes for a moment before accepting and taking a sip.

“Either we share Tanya and she helps me around the house, or we divorce right now. You’ll keep the mistress,” she said, holding up a single finger. “And I’ll keep the house, the cars, and get alimony and child support. We’ll split any profits from The Perfect Fit down the middle. I’m sure she,”—Brandi nodded in Tanya’s direction—“won’t be happy with what you’ll have left. And that will be…” Brandi rubbed her chin, gazing toward the ceiling as though checking an imaginary calculator. “Oh, let me see—about one-fourth of what you make now.” She shrugged, grinning at Tanya. “Unless one-fourth will be all right with you?”

Scanning the woman’s body, taking in the expensive La Perla dressing gown, remembering the burgundy Lexus sitting in the driveway, the Oriental artwork and Lalique figurines decorating the house, Brandi felt her anger springing forth like molten lava from a volcano. Hell, Brandi didn’t drive a damn Lexus! And she’d never purchased anything from Lalique.

As her eyes continued their travel, the engagement ring made her pause—again. The damned thing was twice the size of the one he’d given her for their tenth anniversary, and four times the size of the one he’d given her on their wedding day.

Tanya followed Brandi’s gaze to her slender fingers gripping the back of the loveseat. She looked into Brandi’s eyes. “I’m truly sorry. I didn’t know. Even the girls never mentioned you.”

Vernon’s eyes widened bigger than golf balls. He glared at Tanya as his lips formed a hard line.

There was no mistaking the sincerity behind the woman’s words. Girls? The woman knew her children, too? Vernon would fry!

Tanya glanced at the ring; then at Vernon, whose dark, liquid eyes had filled with worry; and finally to Brandi once again. “He said he was a widower and waited so long to get married again because of his daughters. He wanted to build a business first. Then he told me he wanted his girls to be a little older.” She grimaced as a tear fell from her bright eyes. “I wonder what excuse he would’ve given me next time.”

Brandi wasn’t a bit surprised; he’d taken this lying thing to a higher level. And now the children, this woman, and Brandi would all feel the crunch. Vernon, ever the man to land on his feet, wouldn’t feel a damn thing. She would have to change all that.

Tanya loosened her grip on the soft cushions, pacing angrily, her eyes glazing over with unshed tears. “Amazing what they think they can get away with,” she said. Eyes narrowing at him, she snatched off the ring and raised it above her head, aiming to hurl it across the room.

Then she paused, wincing as though struck by lightning, to roll the jewel between her fingers. The diamond was illuminated with a surreal glow, as though it was on display at Tiffany’s. The woman’s bright smile lit up the room as she faced Brandi, holding up the ring. “You don’t mind if I keep this as his going-away present, do you?”

The woman was a lot smarter than she looked. Brandi shrugged, taking a small sip of vodka. “Go right ahead.”

Vernon finally found the will to move. His gaze first fell on Tanya, then on Brandi, obviously trying to decide which was the better bargain. After several agonizing moments, he reached for Brandi’s hand. “Baby, it’s not what you think. She doesn’t mean anything to me…”

Brandi’s level gaze said she wasn’t falling for the bullshit.

“We’ll get counseling or something. You can’t divorce me…”

Brandi watched the mistress back away, gripping her stomach as though she had been punched. For a split second, Brandi felt a tinge of compassion. She quickly brushed it aside the moment she lowered her eyes to her handsome husband, who had all but sunk to his knees as he put a vise grip around her waist.

He repulsed her, but she didn’t pull away from him. She sank down on the sofa once again, listening to his sad speech, letting him say everything he wanted about staying together, that his little fling didn’t mean anything—really. Brandi looked up at Tanya, who now stared at Vernon with a faint, bitter smile on her lips as her breasts heaved, a single hand resting on her chest. Tears streamed, pooling at her chin before dripping to the carpet in a steady rhythm. The woman was telling the truth. She hadn’t known.

“I can’t believe this,” Tanya said, staring at the ring, then at Vernon.

Diamonds were truly a girl’s best friend, and the size of the one on the woman’s finger told Brandi that Tanya was more than just a fling. He was serious, but not serious enough to pull away from the business or his current life. Too late! Brandi would have that all wrapped up, as well as a few other things.

Brandi blinked to clear her vision as Tanya’s pain triggered her own. How many nights had she longed for her husband? How long had she allowed the fear of losing him to cloud her judgment?

Tanya wiped her face with the back of a trembling hand, looking more like a child than the beautiful, confident woman who greeted Brandi at the door.

Brandi reached out, stroking Vernon’s head gently as he pressed his face into the soft curve of her neck. “Brandi, I can make this up to you. I promise.”

She touched him, knowing it would probably be her last time. Her world had changed. It had been easy to imagine the other woman, but seeing her husband in Tanya’s house, settled in as though he didn’t have a family somewhere else, brought forth emotions no amount of waiting could prepare her for.

While Vernon rattled on, Tanya scurried from the living room. She returned with suitcases, garment bags, all Vernon’s things, which she piled directly outside the front door. Brandi watched every move, thinking,
Did she forget that technically this is not her house?
It didn’t really matter—right now she was making a statement. Two women, both hurt—one man, the source of the pain. Vernon had lost both of them.

Brandi managed not to laugh as she pushed her husband away. She strolled toward the door, leaving a disgruntled Vernon struggling to get off the sofa to catch up with her. Tanya glanced at her as she touched the knob, their gazes locked in woman-to-woman understanding. If Brandi knew her husband as well as she thought, the rest of the night would prove to be very interesting. Very interesting indeed!

Especially when he found out what else awaited him when he got home.

T
he door hadn’t closed when Tanya Kaufman pivoted to face a bewildered Vernon. In just twenty minutes, her life had gone from being on her way to happily married with two beautiful children, to practically homeless with nothing to show for her relationship with a man that the
Sun-Times
had touted as Chicago’s Man of the Year. She felt lost, adrift in a lifeboat with no land in sight.

That smooth brown face, those luminous dark eyes and charming ways had made her fall for him. The day she entered the doors of The Perfect Fit looking for a job, Vernon had taken her out to lunch after the interview. More dates followed. He swept her off her feet, then gave her so much more. She had never considered having a relationship with a Black man before she met Vernon. But he swept aside any reservations, and she opened to him, loving him as much as she could any man, which wasn’t saying much, since she had a low opinion of men in general.

The moment he called her a client, the second he said she meant nothing to him, the instant he dropped to his knees begging his wife’s forgiveness, the love that had been growing slipped away like sand in an hourglass, replaced with a pain so indescribable she knew it would take years to recover. Like it had taken her years to get over what her father had done, and the fact that she could never return home under any circumstances.

When she didn’t find employment with The Perfect Fit, she took a job as a waitress at Mitchell’s and had been happy with it. Vernon was not pleased. He told her that he would take care of all her needs, if she’d take
care of him. She refused. In another bid to get her to stop working, he said he would get her a private tutor to help her finish school. Now
that
had impact. But, somehow between his demands for dinner…sex, and her full attention, the private tutor never materialized.

Tanya strolled across the living room and switched off the music in the dining room. Turning to him, she demanded, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Don’t lecture me,” he snapped, stretching out on the sofa again. “I was just trying to tie up loose ends. Then I would’ve told you everything. I needed some time.”

Her lips twitched as she bit back a nasty retort. “You didn’t have to lie to me.”

“Would you have stayed?”

“No, but I would’ve had a choice.”

Vernon’s face darkened. “At least you had a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and—”

“A liar in my bedroom,” she shot back. “How did you expect to keep this from me?”

He lifted a warm brown hand to pick up the remote and switched the television back on. “It worked all this time.”

“Stupid me.” She crossed the room, heading toward the bedroom. “It’s over.”

Vernon’s hand snaked out, gripping her wrist so tightly that the color bled away. “You’re not going anywhere until I sort this all out.” She tried to yank away, but he held fast. “I see you’ve packed my stuff. Where did you think I was going? This is
my
house.”

Tanya snatched her hand back, rubbing some color back into the painful flesh. “Well, as your wife so lovingly pointed out, it’s hers, too,” she said, trying to put a little distance between them. “You got busted and you still want to make demands? What planet do you live on?”

“Planet? Baby, this is a man’s world, you have to learn the rules.” Vernon lowered his voice to a whisper. “That world revolves around money. Money you don’t have.”

“And money you won’t have either when your wife gets done.” She stepped out of his reach, glancing warily at the front door. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall when you get home. If she’s as smart as I think she is, you’re going to have hell to pay. And you deserve to hurt as much as she’s hurting right now, as much as I’m hurting now.”

Only her father, the mayor of Social Circle, Georgia, had hurt her as much as Vernon had tonight. And when she tried to make him pay for what he had done, he used his power and took it out on the one person she would lay down her life for—her sister, Mindy. Men had been off-limits to her since she had left that small city. She had set sail at age fourteen, wandering through life trying to find roots, but had never quite managed—until Vernon. Now this home, too, had evaporated into nothingness.

As she turned away, he spun her back around. His cocky expression turned cruel. “You say it’s over? Cool!” he said through clenched teeth. “Then pack
your
shit and hit the bricks. Because if you stay here, it’ll be business as usual, babe.”

Tanya pulled away and cleared the table, outwardly ignoring him, but inwardly cringing.
What happened to
I love you
and
I can’t do without you?
What happened to
start planning the wedding for June?

He didn’t move when she went into the office across the hall, pulling her personal papers from the drawers. He hovered nearby and she braced herself, expecting the worst. He had never hit her, but sometimes his quick temper could make him roar ferociously. Strangely enough, he had been meek as a lamb when his wife had pulled a fast one. Now
that
was a woman after Tanya’s own heart. Boy, if she had the chutzpah Brandi had, Tanya would definitely be on the upside of life, instead of settling for being a kept woman.

“If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be a poor little white-trash blonde looking for a job—a minimum wage job at that,” he said harshly, following her upstairs to the bedroom. “So don’t act like you didn’t get something out of this.”

She began packing, locking gazes with him as she said, “I’ve never been white trash. Strapped for cash, maybe—but never anyone’s trash.” She continued
folding a gold blouse. “All I wanted was a man who loved me. An honest man. You couldn’t even manage something as simple as that.” Snapping the case shut, she yanked it off the bed and almost lost an arm because it was so heavy. “And you weren’t the only one who got something out of the deal. How the hell else do you think I dealt with the fact that you’re swinging two inches less than what I need for a
real
orgasm?”