If I Were Your Woman (11 page)

Stephanie chuckled and put on her coat.

“I'll walk you to your car,” Ali offered.

“I'll be fine. And I promise I won't fall. Good night.”

“Night,” they said in unison.

Ali watched her leave, then slowly sat down in his seat.

“You okay?” Ron asked. “You have this dazed look in your eyes.”

Ali ducked his head to hide his embarrassment. “Just thinking, that's all.”

Ron looked toward the door. “She's a little young for you if that's what you're thinking.”

Ali hesitated for a moment. “Look, there's something I want to tell you. But you gotta swear you won't say anything. Not now, maybe never.”

T
he moment Stephanie entered her empty apartment the events of earlier in the day came rushing back with a vengeance.

Tony and another woman—and a child.
She took off her coat and hung it on the shower rod in the bathroom. She still couldn't believe it, or rather she didn't want to believe it.

How could he have professed loving her, wanting her to move in with him when he was obviously involved with someone else? Was the child his? A physical pain gripped her insides at the thought.

It was over. Plain and simple. She went into her bedroom, tossed her purse on the bed, and got out of her clothes. Suddenly bone weary, she sat down on the side of the bed. She reached for her bag, took out her phone, and put it on the nightstand with the intention of charging it before she turned in for the night.

She flopped back on the bed in her underwear and stared up at the ceiling. She'd get over this just like she'd gotten over every other hurdle and disappointment in her life. One day at a time. She had more important things to worry about besides feeling sorry for herself.

Good riddance, Anthony Dixon.
She got under the covers and turned out the light. Tomorrow was another day and she intended to start it off feeling a helluva lot better than she did at the moment.

 

When Stephanie awoke the following morning she was alarmed to realize that it was still snowing. She tossed off her teal blue down comforter and put her feet down on the wood floor. She flinched from the cold that slapped the bottoms of her feet.

Bending over she peeked under the dust ruffle for her slippers. Shoving her feet into her Lugs, she walked over to the window.

Nothing was moving. Cars parked on the street looked like rows of igloos on a residential block in Alaska.

Briskly she rubbed her arms as the numbing chill begged to get inside her comfy bedroom. Jeez, the weatherman didn't know jack. All that fancy equipment and they couldn't predict a major freaking snowstorm.

She turned away, annoyed. There was no doubt that she was pretty much grounded for the day. From the looks of things outside, the plows hadn't even come through her street yet.

She went off to the kitchen and took out her favorite ginger and honey tea and put on a kettle of water to boil while she got herself together in the bathroom.

By the time she'd cleaned the sleep from her eyes and brushed her teeth until they gleamed, she heard the kettle whistle.

As she poured the boiling water over the teabag in the cup she wondered what she was going to do with herself all day, and more important, what was she going to eat? To say her cupboards were bare was an understatement. Looking at Stephanie's kitchen, one would think that she loved to cook. Her kitchen was state-of-the-art with every kind of utensil imaginable. Stainless steel pots hung from a ceiling rack that matched the stainless steel freezer and built-in range. All of which were merely attractions for the eye but sparked no desire in her to learn her way around the kitchen.

She pulled open the fridge hoping to perhaps find a carton of Chinese food that she could warm up in the microwave. But all she saw was a half carton of half-and-half and the Tupperware of leftover soup that she and Tony had shared.

She pushed the door shut. Was he still with that woman? Why should she give a damn? She'd wanted out of the relationship anyway. It was stupid of her to pop up at his apartment like she'd done. Stupid to think…Who was she? Was that their child? How could he not have told her?

“Agggh. I'm not going to make myself crazy. I'm not!”

She poured her cup of tea and took it to the living room, sat down on the love seat, then turned on her thirty-two-inch plasma television. It was another treat to herself after landing a successful account while she'd worked for Conrad at H. L. Reuben.

That was one of the things she missed about working for a large corporation—the perks. While she'd been employed she had an expense account, annual bonuses, a hefty commission on top of her high five-figure salary. All those perks and the solid cash base had all helped to cover Samantha's care. She knew she'd worked hard, she had to. It was the major reason why she became involved with Conrad in the first place and why she continued the affair. Her relationship with him guaranteed her the financial security she needed to care for Samantha, and that was more important than anything else. No matter what the cost to herself.

She finished off her tea and set the cup in the sink. But that didn't make it right, she admitted. There should never be a “good reason” why one had an affair with someone who was married. What goes around comes around, she thought as she wandered back into her bedroom. Now she was seeing how it felt to have someone you loved be with someone else.

She stopped short. Her heart jerked in her chest.
Love?
Who the hell was in love? She shook her head. Even if it were possible for her it was over now.

 

“I need to get ready to head back to the city,” Tony said to Leslie.

He'd spent the past two days at his sister's home in New Haven and they'd talked like they hadn't in a very long time. He told her all about Stephanie and how much he loved her, that she was the first woman to claim his heart since Kim when he thought that loving again was impossible. He told her about his invitation to come and live with him and her reaction. Leslie's advice was to give Stephanie some time, and just as he had his reasons for living his life the way he did, Stephanie surely had her reasons as well. Instead of going off half-cocked, what they needed to do was talk—honestly—about their hopes and their fears.

Leslie put the frying pan in the sink and ran hot water over it, then turned to her brother. “It's been great having you here.” She wiped her hands on a yellow-and-white-checkered dish towel. “Especially for Joy.”

He nodded slowly. “It's been good for me too. I never realize how much I miss her until I see her again.”

Leslie leaned back against the edge of the sink. “She really needs you, Tony.” Her eyes implored him.

He turned away, crossed the room, and sat down at the kitchen table. “I know it's hard for you to understand, for anyone to understand. Every time I look at Joy I see Kim. And I know that her not being here is my fault, that Joy not having a mother is my fault.” He shook his head vigorously. “The guilt eats away at me.” His voice broke. “And even more so when I see Joy.”

“Tony.” She crossed the room and sat down opposite him. “It wasn't your fault. You have to believe that.”

“Then whose fault is it?” he snapped at her. “I knew Kim should never have gotten pregnant. The doctors said it could kill her. But I let it happen and then I let her go through with it anyway—knowing the risks.”

“But Kim knew the risks, too. She loved you and wanted to give you her love, and the result was Joy. You didn't trick her into getting pregnant. Besides, there was no guarantee that she would go into crisis during delivery.” She lowered her gaze. “But she did.”

“The doctors said it was possible—very possible. The strain of labor could easily set off a sickle cell crisis.”

That day in the hospital bloomed before him. Kim had been getting weaker with each passing day. During the last four months of her pregnancy she'd had three major episodes that put her in the hospital. The baby was in danger and the doctors wanted to do a C-section. But the risks of delivery too early were just as high as waiting it out as long as possible.

“Maybe we should let them do the operation,” he'd said to her as he held her hand. He pulled his chair closer to the hospital bed.

She shook her head. “No. They've said the baby is very small. She's already struggling. I want to give her a chance, Tony. Please.”

“I don't want to lose you, Kim. I swear I don't think I can—”

“Shh, don't. We're going to get through this. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and our child.” She smiled weakly. “It's what I want.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, willing his strength to flow through her veins. He would do anything on earth to stop her pain, stop the suffering and the agony he'd witnessed her go through. He rested his head on the side of her bed while she stroked his hair. It was one of the many favorite things she did. He loved the feel of her tiny hands on him. They were incredibly soft and gentle from the very first time they'd met.

She was a cashier at a Barnes and Noble bookstore on Fourteenth Street in the Village. He'd walked in one evening after a photo shoot when he'd spotted a poster in the window announcing that James Patterson was doing a book signing. When he went inside, the store was packed. He couldn't get anywhere near one of his favorite authors. So he'd decided to walk around and see if he could find something to read. He was in the mystery aisle scanning the shelves.

“Can I help you find something?”

The voice sounded like it came from one of heaven's angels. When he turned she was smiling up at him. She was what would certainly be considered tiny. She stood no more than five feet five, and if she weighed more than one hundred pounds it would be a miracle. Her skin was the color of sautéed butter, thick black lashes framed wide doe-shaped eyes the color of midnight, her cheekbones were the kind that you dream of, and her mouth was so rich and lush you wanted to sink onto the soft pillows of her lips. Her inky dark hair hung to the middle of her back, and he could imagine it fanning out around her as she lay beneath him on his bed. He was totally mesmerized and for a moment couldn't speak.

She angled her head to the side. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked.

He ran his tongue across his suddenly dry lips. “Uh…just browsing.”

“Okay. Enjoy.” She turned to leave.

“Wait!” he said much too loud.

“Yes?” Curiosity danced in the darkness of her gaze.

“Uh, maybe you could suggest something.”

She returned to his side and the soft scent of her, nearly undetectable, floated gently around her and enveloped him.

“What are you interested in?”

“A good mystery. Love figuring things out.” He slid his hands into his pockets to keep from shifting a strand of her silken hair away from her face.

She turned toward the shelves and put her finger to her lips as she scanned the volumes, and Tony wished he were that finger. She reached for a book but wasn't quite able to get to it. Tony leaned toward her.

“This one?” he asked and his hand brushed hers. A shock rushed through his veins.

They both felt it. Her eyes snapped toward him. They laughed. The tension dispelled.

“Yes, that's the one. It just came in.”

He took the book down from the shelf. “If you say it's good, I'll go with it.”

She stared at him as if she wanted to say something, but didn't.

“Are you a mystery buff?”

Her smile was shy. “Horror and sci-fi.”

His brow rose and a slow grin stretched his mouth. “I'm impressed. I figured you go for romance.”

Her eyes raked him up and down. “Nothing wrong with a little romance.”

“Touché. Anything you can recommend in that department?”

“Excuse me, miss, do you work here?”

Kim turned to the woman who'd come up behind her. “Yes, how can I help you?”

“I'm looking for a book for my teenage son. He needs it for a school report.” She handed Kim a list.

Kim turned to Tony. “If there's anything else I can help you with let me know.”

He lifted his chin in acknowledgment and watched her walk away. Damn, he felt like he'd been hit by lightning. He couldn't remember a woman having that kind of affect on him so suddenly. He gripped the book she'd given him. He had to see her again, find out who she was and everything about her.

Tony wound his way around the crowd that was beginning to disperse after the Patterson signing, and it was akin to running the gauntlet. He thought he caught a glimpse of her tiny form, but like mist she seemed to vanish.

He decided to come back the next day only to discover that she wasn't there. He tried every day for a week, and then like magic she was standing right next to him in Starbucks.

“Hi.”

He couldn't believe his eyes. She was like an apparition. The urge to sweep her up in his arms and whisk her away was so overpowering that his temples began to pound.

“Hi. I…came back to look for you.”

She looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Yeah, I was out for a few days.” She glanced around. “Are you staying or going?”

“Staying, if you are.”

“I have an hour. I'm on my lunch break.”

“Then I'm staying.”

They made their purchases and found a table in the back. They talked for more than an hour as if they had to squeeze in as much as they possibly could. The conversation was so easy, so light and insightful. She was a graduate student at Columbia working on her journalism degree and only worked part-time at the bookstore. She had a roommate, her best friend, Gwynne, who was a writer. She loved books and music and gourmet cooking. She had an infectious laugh and an internal warmth that reached out and embraced you like an old friend.