Getting Some (3 page)

“I guess a little.”

Every time I’m around Dominic, I want to touch him. Literally, I can’t get enough of him. I’m like a teenager in heat.

I run my hands through his black hair. “I know something else that would make you feel way better.” I wink at him. “But I’d have to get down on my knees, right here in the doorway. The neighbors might talk. But, hey, I’m game.”

Dominic shakes his head as he looks at me, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re a total nymphomaniac.”

Am I? I certainly am not the same woman I was when I was married to Charles. But almost a year and a half of no sex will make any woman a sex-crazed maniac.

Of course, a guy like Dominic does wonders for a woman’s libido, as well.

Dominic gives me a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll be here.”

For about a minute after Dominic leaves, I wonder if he’s being truthful. Or if he’s keeping something from me that I need to know. Then I brush those thoughts aside.

“Don’t bring your baggage from your marriage to this relationship,” I tell myself, thinking of the advice the Oprahs and Dr. Phils of the world would dole out. The truth is, Charles did a number on my self-esteem when he didn’t touch me for nearly a year and a half. But just because Charles was a liar doesn’t mean Dominic is. I have to take what Dominic tells me at face value, not start questioning anything unless there’s a real reason to.

I busy myself with household duties like dusting, laundry and cleaning the toilets. And as I do, a smile creeps onto my face. No, I’m not trying to set the feminist movement back forty years. I’m just saying that it feels right, being in Dominic’s home, doing housework like we’ve been together forever.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what’s at the heart of my insecurity with Dominic. I don’t know him well enough to know all his quirks and nuances. The two weeks we’ve officially been a couple is hardly enough time to discover all that.

And not enough time for me to be totally secure about where our relationship will head, no matter how much I know I’m totally into him.

“You know he’s into you,” I assure myself as I head to a large, leafy plant with a duster. There haven’t been any middle-of-the-night calls, any hushed whispers as Dominic talks to a mysterious person on the phone. And perhaps more important, I haven’t had any hang-ups when I’ve answered the phone.

The telephone rings and I jump, then chuckle at the coincidence of having thought about telephone calls before it actually rang. I hurry across the living room to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Annelise?”

“Yes,” I answer, somewhat guarded.

“Annelise, it’s Nick Foster.”

“Oh, hello.” I settle into a leather armchair, wondering what my divorce lawyer has to tell me.

“Do you have any time to come and see me today? Say in a couple hours?”

“Sure,” I answer. “You have news?”

“I think it’s best if we talk in person.”

I can’t imagine what my lawyer wants to tell me, but already I’ve got a bad feeling. The fact that he wants to see me in person probably means that he’s got bad news for me.

I wince. Damn, this isn’t what I was hoping for. I need money. For my business and my day-to-day life. Yes, my friends have helped me out, and because I’ve been staying with Dominic I haven’t really needed much. But still. I want to be able to make it on my own. No more relying on a man.

The next two hours pass in slow motion, with me dreading going to my lawyer’s office but knowing I don’t have a choice. Even when I arrive at his office, I have to encourage myself to get out of the car.

“Bad news or not, you have to get this over with,” I mutter.

I finally open the door and exit the car.

“Annelise.” Nick Foster, a tall and attractive black man, stands when his secretary ushers me into his office. He pumps my hand from across his desk. “How are you?”

“Truthfully? I’m a little bit stressed about what you’re going to tell me.”

“Stressed? Don’t be stressed.”

“I am…unless you tell me otherwise. That I don’t need to be.”

Nick cracks a smile as he sits in his chair. He opens a folder on his desk and says, “You don’t need to be.”

Now my heart leaps with hope. “Are you saying—”

“I’ve got great news for you, Annelise. Your portion of the house—it’s all yours.”

My hand is shaking as I raise it to my mouth. “Oh my God. This isn’t a joke? This—it’s for real?”

“It’s for real. The matrimonial home will be sold, and you’ll get exactly half of the proceeds.”

“And Charles?”

“His half will likely have to go toward repaying the Wishes Come True Foundation, but I can’t be sure about that.”

“And my half is absolutely safe. The courts or whoever can’t change their minds tomorrow?”

“Basically, your house was a joint asset before Charles’s fraud. You aren’t guilty in that crime, and the courts agree that you shouldn’t have to lose what is rightfully yours. Charles has victimized enough people. You can put your house on the market as soon as possible.”

I blow out a shaky breath. “Wow. So this is over?”

“Not entirely.”

My face drops. “No?”

“Your divorce still needs to be finalized.”

“Oh. Right.” I chuckle. Compared to getting over this hurdle, the dissolution of my marriage seems like a minor detail to deal with.

“And, to that end, I’m meeting with the judge next week. I’m going to ask that he expedite the process, given everything. You were married to a liar, a cheater, a thief. Clearly, you want the union absolved as soon as possible.”

“Exactly.”

“I think this will go our way.”

“I wish it could be over tomorrow.”

“Understandably. But at least we’ve gotten past the biggest hindrance.”

“Thank God.”

“Now, there’s still the issue of Charles’s other assets. Until the state has figured out what it’s doing, I can’t make you any promises. However, based on what I’ve been able to learn, it looks like much of his property and other assets were most likely purchased with stolen money.”

“I don’t care about the rest of it,” I tell him, meaning it. “As long as my portion of the house is safe.” I pause, happiness filling my chest. “Oh, Nick. Thank you.”

“I’m just the messenger.”

“Oh, you’re more than that. I know you’ve been making calls on my behalf. Lobbying for me.”

“You’re a victim in this, just like the children from the foundation.”

“Thank you.” I reach across the desk and shake Nick’s hand. “Thank you, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I can’t stop grinning.

“Now, I can handle getting a real estate agent for you. Or you can do it. Whatever you like.”

I’m already paying enough money per hour for Nick’s services. There’s no need to let him handle aspects I can deal with myself. “I’ll call someone. Hopefully the house will sell right away.”

“I have a friend who’s a real estate agent, and I can put you in touch with him if you like. He can deal with the legal issues of selling the house that are required in this situation, given its special circumstances. He can control the money and cut you a check for your half directly, minus his commission, of course.”

Of course. People might have your best interests at heart…for a cost.

But I can’t worry about that, especially since the reality is that, despite any commission I’ll have to pay, I stand to collect a pretty penny. Charles and I bought that house when we were first married five years ago, and house prices in our neighborhood have gone up greatly since then. We paid off the mortgage after one of Charles’s large class-action cases settled, which means I should walk away with some sizable cash. Likely a little over three hundred grand after the commission is paid.

Three hundred thousand dollars!
With that kind of money, I can easily invest what’s necessary into my business.

“Annelise?”

“I’m sorry.” I know that, as I meet Nick’s eyes, I’m grinning like a fool. “What were you saying?”

“I’ll let you know what the judge says about expediting your divorce.”

“Great.”

“I don’t anticipate any problems.”

“I can’t thank you enough for all your help, Nick.” Of course, I’ll owe him a pretty penny as well, but now I can afford to pay him! And it’s money well spent.

“That’s my job.” He closes the folder. “Please, when you get an offer for your house that you want to accept, let me know.”

“Absolutely.”

I reach across the table and shake Nick’s hand again.

When I turn to leave, I’m so high on happiness that I practically float out of the office.

Lishelle

I
have got The Headache from Hell. I rub my temples and groan as I stare at Linda Tennant, my station manager. She’s sitting on the armchair in my dressing room, while I’m on the folding chair in front of the mirror. The makeup artist recently finished doing my face for the six-o’clock news.

“I’m just saying,” Linda says, “you need to give me more than this. Some sort of concrete direction.”

“All I know is that it needs to be a pledge drive.”

“A
nationwide
pledge drive,” Linda says, her tone doubtful.

“Yes,” I respond without hesitation. “I’d really like to coordinate this with our sister stations across the country. That’s what will make this fund-raising effort unique—as well as raise much more money for the Wishes Come True Foundation.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t a great idea…in theory. But a nationwide fund-raising effort—that’s going to take time. Honestly, by the time we all coordinate schedules, it could be a year before this event takes place.”

“A year?” I all but gasp. “That’s way too long.”

“I’m giving you my opinion.”

“But we need to do this
now
. Strike while the iron is hot. The embezzlement story has been big news across the country. This is when people will be more likely to give—a lot.”

“I hear you. And we can definitely try to do something on our end. It’s the coordinating it with our sister stations that’s going to be tough.”

“We’ll work it out,” I say confidently. How, God only knows. But I want to see this happen. Soon. Before everyone forgets about the tragic turn of events the foundation faced. Now is the time that people will happily dig into their pockets and give. But a year from now? Who knows?

“I’m open to whatever ideas you have,” Linda says.

“I’ll get you something.” If it means I have to start making calls to all of our sister stations across the country, then I’ll do that.

When Linda leaves my dressing room, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t like what I see. Even with makeup, the dark circles under my eyes are noticeable. I haven’t admitted this to any of my friends, but I haven’t been sleeping well since Glenn screwed me over. And I’ve been far more stressed than I thought I would be.

I was able to exact some delicious revenge on my ex-boyfriend, but I realized after that, that the greatest reward would be doing something to benefit all those kids. My friends Claudia and Annelise agreed. Which is why I’m hell-bent on seeing this nationwide fund-raiser come to fruition.

I sigh and turn away from the mirror. Am I expecting too much? Should I coordinate a local fund-raising drive and forget the grandiose plans?

But that’s not what I want. This means a lot to me. I want more than anything to see something positive come of the heartache my girlfriends and I suffered at the hands of the men we loved. And I can’t think of anything more positive than raising money for the terminally ill children who were robbed.

Of course, it also helps that every moment I spend thinking about how I’ll make this fund-raiser happen is a moment I’m distracted from the memory of just how badly my heart was broken.

Two days later, I’m more than ready to get together with my girlfriends at our regular Sunday brunch spot. I arrive at Liaisons to see that Claudia and Annelise are already there, three mimosas on the table.

“Thank God,” I say as I slip into the booth beside Claudia, already reaching for my drink. The mimosa goes down smooth, hits the spot inside me that needs to be soothed.

“And we’re chopped liver?” Claudia asks playfully.

“Oh, hi, you two.” I smile sweetly as Annelise rolls her eyes.

“It’s been one of those weeks,” I explain. “The planning for our pledge drive is stressing me out. My station manager is basically saying that we can’t coordinate a nationwide effort—at least not in the time frame we want to do this. I want to prove her wrong, but I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“It’ll work out,” Annelise says.

Her carefree attitude irritates me slightly. “That’s very Pollyanna of you, but this shit is turning out to be harder than I’d hoped.”

“And I understand that,” Annelise tells me. “I guess I’m just saying that for today you should try to relax, put everything negative out of your mind. Things have a way of working out despite how much we fret over them.”

I examine her then. Annelise has been looking really happy lately, despite the uncertainty in her life, but today she looks especially so. I ask her, “Something going on that I should know about?”

“Oh, yeah,” Claudia chimes. “Annelise has some amazing news. And so do I.”

“Well, spill it.” I sip my mimosa. “I could use some good news, even if it’s not mine.”

Before Annelise can speak, a woman shows up at our table. I’m a little surprised that it’s not Sierra, the cute Asian girl who has been our regular waitress for as long as I can remember.

“Have you made up your minds?” the stranger asks.

I glance at Claudia and Annelise, wondering if they feel the way I do—unhappy that there’s this new woman at our table. They don’t seem particularly perturbed, but I am.

“Um,” I begin cautiously. “Who are you?”

Beside me, Claudia forces a chuckle. “Our waitress, silly. Lishelle, this is Apple.”

“Apple?”
I stare at the woman, a tall, skinny, dark-haired woman who looks too conservative to have such a ridiculous name. “Your name is Apple?”

Apple giggles as she nods. “According to my mother, she was drinking apple martinis the night I was conceived.”

“So she got drunk and got knocked up,” I comment dryly.

Annelise’s eyes grow wide with horror. “Lishelle,” she admonishes.

“I’m just saying…I thought only movie stars gave their kids names like ‘Apple’ and ‘Orange’ or ‘Banana.’”

Claudia places a hand on my wrist. To everyone, it must look like a subtle show of affection. But Claudia actually squeezes my wrist—hard. “Looks like you were already drinking before you got here,” she jokes.

“I can go through our specials,” Apple says. “Of course, we have the buffet—”

“Which is what we always have,” I point out. “Sierra would know that.”

“We’re going to have the buffet,” Annelise quickly says.

“What happened to Sierra?” I ask. “She sick or something?”

“That’s something else we didn’t get to tell you yet.” Claudia’s grin is far too syrupy. “Apple tells us that Sierra apparently fell hot and heavy for some guy, and she’s moved to L.A. to be with him.”

“What?” I practically shriek.

Apple shrugs apologetically, as though this is her fault. Or rather, as though
I
think this is her fault.

“I’m happy for her,” Annelise comments.

“She just
fell
for some guy? Didn’t we warn her? Didn’t she hear us bitch enough about men and how you can’t trust them?”

“Can we…not do this?” Annelise gives me a pointed look.

A frustrated breath oozes out of me as I look up at Apple. “It’s just that…for the longest time, Sierra has been our waitress. She always knows what we want.”

“Lishelle, it’s okay.” Claudia lays a hand on my arm. “Apple here is perfectly capable of taking care of us.”

I glance up at Apple. “Of course. I just didn’t…expect
you
.”

Apple nods, seeming to accept my half-baked apology. “So, three for the buffet…can I get you anything else?”

“Coffee,” Annelise answers.

“And another round of mimosas,” I add. “Lord knows that one won’t be enough today.”

When Apple disappears, Claudia looks at me and scowls. “Could you have been any ruder to that waitress?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. Then I rub my temples. “The thing is…” I don’t finish my statement. I’m not entirely sure what I wanted to say.

“The thing is what?” Claudia prompts.

“The thing is…” My voice trails off on a sigh. “So much has changed lately. For once I’d like to see something stay the same. Something be…fucking consistent. Fucking reliable.”

Annelise fixes me with a mothering look she’s so good at giving, then says softly, “Oh, hon.”

And I swear, that simple look is my complete undoing. I feel my eyes start to mist, and I have to look away before I start bawling like a baby.

“Sweetie.” Claudia’s touch is now gentle. “What’s really going on with you?”

I don’t answer right away. I can’t. I feel foolish for even thinking what I’m thinking.

“You’ve always told us everything,” Annelise says. “Same as we do with you. Don’t hold back now.”

“Okay. I’m just gonna to say this. And I know this will sound weird, but hear me out.” I pause before dropping my bombshell. “I kind of miss Glenn.”

Startled gasps explode from my friends.

“I know. I told you it would sound weird. And I don’t mean that the way it actually sounded.”

“Huh?” Claudia asks before she and Annelise exchange confused looks at my double talk.

“Let me explain what I mean,” I go on. “Glenn screwed me over big-time, so there’s no way in hell I miss
him
. What I miss is being with a man. I miss being excited about someone. Since my divorce from David, I didn’t give a shit if I ever fell in love again. Then Glenn came back into my life. And he made me so many promises. He went to elaborate lengths to con me. That house he was supposedly going to buy—”

“Lies, Lishelle,” Claudia says. “All of it. Glenn Baxter doesn’t deserve to breathe, much less have you missing him.”

“Honestly, I know how this must sound, but I don’t miss
him
. I guess I miss being with someone. First my marriage fell apart. Then my relationship with Glenn spontaneously combusted. Glenn made me hope again. Want a man again. And now…” I sip my mimosa. “Suddenly I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever find someone I can trust, who won’t fuck around.” I down the rest of my mimosa. “You know what? Forget I said that. I have no clue what’s gotten over me.”

Claudia and Annelise are silent for a long moment, then Claudia says, “For what it’s worth, I understand what you’re saying. I was with Adam for four years. It’s hard to accept that we’re not together anymore,” she confesses. “Not that I miss
him
—what he did to me effectively killed my feelings for the bastard—but the pain he caused? That’s still there.”

“This is getting way too depressing.” I glance around for a sign of Apple, who I hope to spot with our second round of drinks. “We’re clearly better off without these guys in our lives.”

“But you’re both grieving,” Annelise points out. “And there’s no shame in that.”

“You’re right,” I say, the understanding of what I’m experiencing helping to chase away some of the sadness. “That’s
exactly
what we’re doing. Going through a grieving process.”

“Totally,” Annelise agrees.

“I never thought of it that way,” Claudia adds.

“I’m lucky,” Annelise continues. “I’ve had Dominic to help me get over any of the hurt Charles caused me. You two…I say you both need a palate cleanser—a hot fling or a new man. Someone to help make the memories of your relationships distant ones.”

That’s the last thing I need, but I don’t say that to Annelise. I have no interest in getting into the sack with some new guy for a meaningless night of sex.

“You said you have some good news,” I remind her, remembering that Annelise had mentioned that before I got all dramatic. “Are you and Dominic getting married?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Claudia says, the word full of sadness.

“I didn’t mean that to sound so final, if it did,” Annelise tells us. “We’ll definitely wait until my divorce from Charles is finalized before thinking of that step. Which is fine with me. What I want to tell you is what my lawyer said when I saw him today.”

I suck in a sharp breath. For the past few weeks, we’ve all been hoping and praying that she’ll get good news regarding her house with Charles. That she won’t lose her portion of it because her husband decided to rip off terminally ill children. “You said it’s good news?”

A smile spreads across Annelise’s face. “I can’t believe it, but I get to keep my half of the house!”

“Oh, Annie.” I clasp my hands together. “That’s the best news.”

“I know.” She can’t stop beaming. “I’ve been feeling a bit guilty, though. Wondering if it isn’t fair for all the proceeds from the house to go to the charity. But it’s not like I don’t need to live.”

“And you had no part in Charles’s scam.” I reach across the table to grip her hand. “Honey, take the money and run. Put some into your business, invest some, find a place to live.”

“Oh, I don’t think she and Dom will be parting ways anytime soon,” Claudia says.

“Not likely,” I agree. “But you keep some of that money under lock and key. Never let yourself be in a situation again where a man can fuck you over because he’s got the money and you don’t.”