If I Were Your Woman

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

S
tephanie Moore was nudged awake by the tantalizing aroma of hash browns, sizzling bacon, whipped eggs…and were those buttermilk biscuits she smelled? She squeezed her eyes tight and stretched, practically purring in the process. The night she'd spent with Tony drifted to her consciousness, and a wicked smile crept across her mouth.

“My mama always told me if a man could cook and satisfy a woman in bed he could keep a smile on her face forever.”

Stephanie's eyes slid open. Tony stood in the arch of her bedroom door bare-chested, gorgeous and carrying a tray fit for a queen.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice still slick with sleep.

Tony strolled barefoot across the hardwood floor. The thin cotton pajama pants hanging low on his hips sent Stephanie's pulse racing.

Humph, humph, humph. Nothing like a good-looking man who knew his way around a kitchen. Slowly she sat up. The soft peach-colored sheet dropped to her waist. Tony's eyes darkened with appreciation.

“I don't think your mama would imagine her baby boy doing some of the things you did to me last night to make me happy.”

He sat down on the side of the bed and set the tray on her lap, before leaning forward and capturing an exposed nipple in his mouth for a hot second. Stephanie drew in a sharp breath. Tony pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Then it'll be our little secret.”

She grinned and scooped a forkful of hash browns into her mouth. Her eyes drifted closed in delight. “Hmm. Wonderful.”

“Great.” He jumped up and started for the bathroom.

“Aren't you going to eat?”

Tony stopped midway and tossed over his shoulder, “I, uh, have an early meeting. Thought I told you about it. New client.”

Stephanie frowned for a moment trying to recall the elusive conversation, but nothing came to mind. She shrugged it off. “Must have forgotten.”

He stepped into the adjoining master bath and turned on the shower full blast, then came back and stepped out of his pajama bottoms.

The food stuck in Stephanie's throat for a moment. Damn, he was a handful—gorgeous from top to middle to bottom. He worked out regularly and it showed in the sculpted chest and arms, the six-pack that made her mouth water all covered in a smooth milk chocolate package. When they'd first met over a business lunch—while she was interviewing photographers to do the spa's brochure—he'd worn his hair cut short. But over the past few months he'd let it grow out and wore it lightly twisted on the tips giving him a true avante-garde West Village look, typical of the artsy set.

“If you don't step out of my range of vision you won't be going anywhere anytime soon.”

Tony grinned. “Yes, ma'am.” He turned, gave her a quick eyeful, and returned to the bathroom.

Stephanie shook her head in amusement. She was happy, she realized, as she sipped her juice, savoring its taste and Tony's thoughtfulness.

Tony was the first real relationship she'd had in years—a healthy one at least. The time she'd spent and wasted with her ex-lover and boss, Conrad Hendricks, was a disaster waiting to happen and it did in Armageddon proportions. A shiver of disgust crept along her spine. It was a part of her life she'd rather forget, but there were still loose ends that needed to be severed—if she could bring herself to do what was necessary.

She put her cup of juice down and picked up a piece of toast, chewing thoughtfully. Even being enveloped in Tony's caring and bathed in happiness, she still found it hard to let go of the binds that tied her heart. Tony had talked about love. Yes, the dreaded
L
word. At the time she'd said something innocuous like “who wouldn't love you?” But she'd never really answered him. He hadn't brought it up again. And she wouldn't dare.

Love. It didn't figure into her life. Not really. She'd been in deep
like
. She'd even been in lust, but never
in love
. Truth was, she wasn't sure if she knew how, or better still, if she was worthy of being loved.

She sighed heavily, lifted the tray from her lap and set it on the bedside table. Her experiences with men had been suspect at best. She'd always been too trusting, too giving, too naive time after time. There was never anything for her at the end of the rainbow except hurt and disappointment.

That's why she wanted to take her time with Tony, and he was either along for the ride or not. She wasn't a kid anymore. She was forty-five years old. The days of doing things without thinking them through were over. She'd paid a high price for her actions and had no intention of overdrawing on her account again.

“I'll call you later this afternoon.”

Stephanie looked up and for an instant her misgivings disappeared. But only for an instant. “Okay. Call me on my cell. I'll be at Pause most of the day. Terri is coming by around one.” She watched him buttoning his white shirt. Tony loved some white shirts and they looked so good against his skin.

“So you're really gonna take on a partner?” He gave her a quick look while he fastened his belt.

She reached for her juice and took a long swallow before speaking. “Since the opening of Pause, I've been getting calls left and right to do PR campaigns. The spa has gotten really good press and it opened the doors for me. So if I'm going to run a business on my own I'm going to need help to do it right. No way will I be able to handle everything on my own. Terri has what it takes and I think we will make a great team.”

“You know I'm behind you one hundred percent. I want to see you fly, baby.” He crossed the room, leaned down, and looked into her eyes. His voice lowered to a gentle rumble. “Besides, I get totally turned on by women in charge.” He winked.

Stephanie laughed and whacked his brick-hard biceps. “You are too silly.”

“That's what all the girls say.” His kiss was sweet and tender. Stephanie's stomach did a little dance.

“Later,” she hummed against his mouth before he backed away.

He snatched up his heavy camera bag, draped the strap over his shoulder, and strode out.

Stephanie touched her lips with the tip of her fingers and closed her eyes. Yes, it would be easy to let herself love Anthony Dixon—when she was ready. When would that be? It was a question that would remain unanswered, at least for now.

She hadn't realized that she'd dozed off until the ringing phone stirred her awake. She blinked several times in confusion before sitting up and reaching blindly for the phone on the nightstand.

“Hello?”

“Stephanie Moore?”

Must be a telemarketer, she thought through the cobwebs of sleep. “I don't want any—”

“This is Marilyn Hendricks, Conrad's wife.”

Stephanie was wide awake now. She sat up in bed. “I told you not to call here again. I have a restraining order—”

“I don't give a damn what you have. You ruined my life and you're not going to get away with it.”

“We have nothing to talk about, Mrs. Hendricks. I didn't ruin your life, your husband did.”

Marilyn laughed in that manic way loonies do in the movies. Stephanie shuddered.

“If you thought for a minute that I was going to let your affair with my husband, the father of my children, slide by without a fight—think again.”

“I don't want your husband. I told you and I told him as much. Don't call—”

“If you think this is over, you are sadly mistaken,” she said, her voice suddenly dropping to an eerie monotone.

The dial tone suddenly hummed in Stephanie's ear. Stunned, she slowly hung up the phone, staring at it as if the instrument were the true offender.

“Crazy bitch,” she muttered, then vigorously rubbed the goose bumps that swiftly rose along her arms like an attack of hives.

She pushed up from the bed and marched across her bedroom floor, uttering a string of expletives all directed at Mrs. Conrad Hendricks.

Stephanie had never met the woman and Conrad never brought her to any company events, which at the time was fine with Stephanie. She was pretty sure she would have been hard-pressed to pull off an innocent act while chatting with the woman whose husband she was sleeping with.

She'd seen pictures of Marilyn. An average-looking white girl: big boobs, blond and blue-eyed, rosy cheeks and a toothy grin. She looked like she could easily play in a commercial for shampoo or something. Not overly pretty but good-looking enough.

Stephanie went into the bath for a long hot shower, determined to wash all thoughts of Marilyn and her husband out of her system.

 

It was a little past noon when Stephanie arrived at Pause for Men. The 125th Street four-story brownstone was innocuous enough from the outside, but the inside was a masterpiece. The ground floor housed reception and registration along with a cozy health food café, an exercise room, and backyard dining when the weather was nice. On the parlor floor was the weight room and treadmills, complete with personal trainers. The third floor held several lounge rooms with soft music piped in—a great place to relax and chat. The top floor was a full apartment, which Ellie, one of the four coowners, occupied since leaving her philandering husband of twenty-five years. The basement level held the steam and massage rooms, as well as a Jacuzzi and the Pause office.

Every time Stephanie walked into Pause she was overwhelmed by what four friends had accomplished after a few drinks and a dream. Even in the middle of the workweek, the exclusive spa for men only was busy. After less than a year in business they already had a waiting list.

Drew Hawkins, the security guard they'd recently hired, was at the door. His presence immediately brought to mind why they'd had to hire him in the first place—Conrad Hendricks.

Stephanie tugged in a breath. “Hey, Drew. How's it going?” She forced a smile.

“Busy as usual, but quiet.”

“Uh, no uninvited guests?” Her gaze darted around the space, then settled back on Drew.

“Nope.” His brow crinkled. “You okay? Everything cool?”

“Yeah. Sure.” She started to walk off, then changed her mind. She looked up at him. “Listen, if…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

He touched her upper arm. “Don't worry about anything, Ms. Moore. Nobody is coming past me who's not supposed to.”

She pressed her lips into a tight smile. “Thanks.” She gave a short bob of her head to punctuate her appreciation, then headed to the front desk. An instant before she arrived, a hand clasped her shoulder and she yelped in fright. She spun around only to come face-to-face with Barbara.

“Relax, girl. What has you all wound up?”

Stephanie pressed her hand to her chest and shook her head at her own foolishness. “Sorry. You startled me, that's all.”

Barbara pursed her lips. “You sure that's all it is?”

“Yes. I'm sure.” She took a moment and actually looked at Barbara. “You changed your hair!”

Barbara grinned like she'd won something and did a slow pirouette. “You like it?”

“Love it, very becoming. The short look is definitely in and it does wonders for you.”

“Why, thank you, my dear.”

Barbara Allen was the mastermind behind Pause for Men, but more important, she was the voice of reason for the quartet of friends.

Stephanie put her leather briefcase on top of the registration desk and leaned her hip against it. She folded her arms. “And what does Wil think about this new look?”

Barbara scrunched up her nose. “He hasn't seen it yet.” She lowered her voice. “Just had it done this morning. You think he'll like it?”

“Well, if he doesn't you can always
buy
some hair until it grows back.”

Barbara tossed her head back and laughed. “You got that right.” She slowly sobered. “We really need to have a girls' night. She added with a chuckle, “So much has been going on, between broken engagements, divorces, new men, old men, we need to catch up. We haven't had a night for just us since we all got back from our romantic getaways. And this place keeps us all so busy.”

“You know, you're absolutely right. We do need some ‘we'time. How about this weekend?”

“Fine with me. I'll check with Ann Marie and Elizabeth.”

“Would you mind if I invited Terri to join us?”

“It's okay by me. What's one more plate?”

“Great. As a matter of fact, she's meeting me here today around one. I'll mention it to her.”

“Okay, well, let me get busy. I took a half day from the hospital. One of my regular clients can't make it in the evenings. So I told him I'd squeeze him in during the lunch hour. He should be here any minute.”

“Barbara, when are you going to quit your job? You're killing yourself running back and forth like this.”

Barbara heaved a sigh. “I know, girl, I know. But to tell you the truth, I'm still in shock about the spa. Some days I wake up and can't believe we actually did it and that it's making money. I guess there is that old-school part of me that firmly believes never to put all my eggs in one basket. My job at the hospital is secure. But even though I hit fifty, I'm too young to retire and get my full pension. Anyway, I love what I do. I like my coworkers.” She shrugged. “So I guess I'll do both for as long as I can.”