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Authors: Roseanne Dowell

It's Only Make Believe (6 page)

BOOK: It's Only Make Believe
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Michele tried to hide her reaction to Jane O’Neil’s whiny voice. Sarah made a face behind her and Michele almost laughed out loud. What price success? Voice aside, Jane was a sweetheart. Pasting on her professional smile, Michele extended her hand, shook Jane’s, and introduced Sarah as her assistant. “We need to take some measurements, and I’ve brought some samples for you to look at. We’ll get together in a few days and you can make your final choices.”  She followed Jane into the dining room and laid out the samples. “I know you want the stainless commercial stove, so I thought a matching refrigerator and aluminum blinds as the window covering will carry on the effect from the appliances.”

Jane O’Neil ooh’d and aah’d at the plans Michele presented while Patrick O’Neil stood silent. This wasn’t looking good. Were they going to disagree on the project? Michele sneaked a look at Sarah, who stood off to the side, a silly smirk on her face.

Michele turned away from her friend. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to take the measurements, and I’ll leave the samples with you. If you have any questions, call me. Otherwise I’ll see you... let’s see.” She flipped through her calendar book. “How about a week from Friday, about two in the afternoon?”

Jane checked her calendar. “I can be here, but Patrick has a previous engagement.”

Michele looked at Patrick. “What day is good for you?”

He shrugged, turned away. “No matter, go ahead and meet with Jane. It’s her kitchen.” His disinterest bothered Michele. This was definitely not a good thing.

“Okay,” She turned to Sarah. “Let’s take the measurements and we can leave these people to their peace and quiet.” 

Sarah helped take the measurements. Michele made the proper notations and packed up her briefcase. She shook Jane’s hand. Patrick had already retired to another room. “I’ll see you a week from Friday then.”

“Phew, that was tense,” Michele said when they reached her car. “I don’t understand it. Patrick was so gung ho on this project when they came to see me about it.”

“Maybe he’s just having a bad day.” Sarah said.

They rode in silence, and she dropped Sarah off at her car and drove home.

Michele turned on the lights and hurried to the answering machine. The light remained steady. No messages. Feeling let down, she pushed the button and listened to the previous one. At the sound of Brad’s voice she missed him more. Maybe he’d call later. She looked at her watch, almost ten o’clock. She doubted it, although it was only seven o’clock in San Francisco.

She checked out the guest room and loved the color. “Perfect, but the furniture has to go. At least it stands out now.” There must have been a sale on pale yellow paint and blond furniture when her mother and Mrs. Lawson decorated the rooms. She checked the other room and was amazed to see Jason had finished it also. She couldn’t wait to put the rooms back together. Jason had moved the furniture back into position, keeping it slightly away from the wet walls.

Back in her own room, she dressed the bed. These weren’t the soft sheets she was used to. The quality inferior to what she had taken for granted. A chill ran up her spine as she made up the bed, remembering the first time she and Brad had made love. Smoothing the sheets, she tossed the pillows on the bed and spread the comforter on top, then hung the drapes. Standing back she viewed the room. The soft green walls calmed her. The paisley print with the burgundy, green and beige gave the room a cozy look. The whole room created harmony. Hopefully, Brad would like it. Amazing what a person can accomplish with inexpensive materials. “Ha, just goes to prove you don’t need a lot of money to have an elegant room.” She turned around the room, thinking she’d replace the sheets with the softer Egyptian cotton she’d grown accustomed to, but the satisfaction she felt with the room surprised her. She yawned and stretched. May as well call it a night. Brad probably wouldn’t call tonight if he remembered the time difference.

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

The ringing phone awakened Michele early the next morning. She turned over and looked at the clock. Six o’clock. Her heart skipped a beat, fear prickled up her spine. She reached for the phone. “Hello.” She almost whispered, unsure if she wanted to hear the voice on the other end. Calls in the middle of the night or this early in the morning only meant bad news.

“Michele, I knew I’d catch you if I called early. Did I wake you?” Brad’s voice came over the line.

Michele did a quick calculation and realized it was thee o’clock in the morning in California. She ran her fingers through her hair with one hand while the other gripped the receiver. She got out of bed and paced the room. “Brad, its six am, which means its three there, what are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I just got in from meetings.” His words slurred.

Michele froze. What kind of meetings? Even on their honeymoon, Brad never got drunk.

 

***

 

“I wondered how you were doing.” He continued. “We should have things wrapped up here in a day or two. How have you been? Are you keeping busy?” Brad drew circles around the base of the phone. He wanted to be home with his wife not here with a difficult client. Business should have been completed a day ago, but Edgehurst insisted on changes to the ad campaign. Never satisfied with first presentations, it annoyed Brad that he refused to wait until after his honeymoon, which he had originally agreed to. Brad knew he’d reject the initial ideas, and Ruby was getting on his nerves, wanting to work well into the night. Tonight he wined and dined Edgehurst and his young companion, going from club to club, drinking and dancing. He wasn’t up to this kind of entertainment anymore.

Michele sounded distant, not happy to hear from him, it was foolish to call her. She probably liked that he was gone. Still, he remembered her soft compliant body when they made love, and she seemed to enjoy his company on their honeymoon. He thought about the dejected look when he told her he had to leave. She had wanted to make him dinner, had even given Louise and Anna the evening off. He smiled at the gesture. A long pause ensued before she answered.

“Not much. I went back to work yesterday, set up some appointments, had dinner with Sarah...”

Brad took a deep breath, sighed. He pictured her sitting in their room, sexy and innocent all at the same time. He wanted to be there with her, running his fingers through her hair, kissing her. He shook the thoughts from of his mind. He’d finish his business as soon as possible, and he’d make arrangements to take her on a real honeymoon. One they’d both enjoy. He yawned, the long hours were taking their toll and the alcohol didn’t help. “I’ll call you later,” he finally said. “Michele...” dare he tell her he missed her? He decided against it. “Have you seen either of our parents since you’re home?” he asked instead.

“No, uh I talked to my mother. I promised to have dinner with her Friday.”

After a long pause Brad continued. “Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He didn’t want to hang up, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Besides, exhaustion exerted itself, and he yawned again.

 

 

“Bye.” 

Brad hung up and stretched out on the bed, clothes and all. Wasn’t long before he fell asleep.

 

*** 

Michele had wanted to say more, but her mind went blank. Why couldn’t she talk to her husband? Ask him some of the things that troubled her? Maybe because she didn’t want to know the truth. If he was with Ruby she didn’t want to hear about it. Besides it was so early her brain hadn’t woke up yet. She hung up and sighed. She could have told him about the rooms, but she wanted to surprise him. Her heart beat wildly at the sound of his voice, drunk or not, she missed him. Why did she suddenly feel shy with him? She sat on the bed and leaned back on the pillows, her legs stretched out on top of the comforter. Why had he been out drinking so late? Where was Ruby? She took a deep breath. Had she heard longing in his voice when he said her name, or was it wishful thinking? Just the sound of his voice sent shivers up her spine. She looked forward to him coming home. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. She’d plan a special dinner for his return, let Anna and Louise have the night off again. That’s what she’d do. They’d spend a quiet evening just the two of them. Talk about things, clear the air about Ruby. Get it out of her system. If something was going on, would she end their marriage? Keep pretending? Was she worrying about nothing?  She went to take her shower, letting the hot steamy water run over her body and remembering how Brad had come into the bathroom that first day. Funny, it had become a routine on their honeymoon. Her shyness had disappeared at seeing his long lean naked body. Excitement coursed through her at the thought of their intimacy.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Finished with her shower and dressed, Michele went to the kitchen to fix breakfast. Anna came in as she added the last scoop of coffee to the pot.

Michele didn’t like the idea of a cook and housekeeper, but had grown to like Anna and Louise. Unlike her parents, she became friends with them. Although she’d like nothing better than to get rid of them, she couldn’t fire them. For one, her parents wouldn’t hear of it and second, they both depended on the salary to help run their own homes. But there was so little for Anna to do, especially with ‘the mister’, as Anna referred to Brad, away. Michele’s meals consisted mostly of salads or a quick sandwich. Anna had grown comfortable with Michele’s friendliness and often scolded her poor nutrition habits. Michele frequently gave both women time off, but never docked their pay. Her mother would be horrified if she knew and surely Mrs. Lawson’s reactions would be much similar. Michele would bet her life Brad agreed with her. Amazingly, she and Brad shared many interests and ideas.

“What does Missy want for dinner?” Anna asked while she pulled a coffee cup from the cupboard and got the cream from the refrigerator. The minute the pot quit dripping, she poured a cup and handed it to Michele.

Michele took a sip and savored the rich aroma and taste. She decided to humor Anna. “How about a nice chicken breast with gravy and mashed potatoes?” Her mouth watered at the thought. What made her think of that? Whatever it was, it sounded good to and delighted Anna once she got over the initial shock.

 

 

Obviously Anna expected her typical I’ll just grab a salad or sandwich answer, Anna had begun to mutter about her eating habits. “I swear I don’t know how you young people survive the way you...” she stopped, hands in midair, mouth fell open and stared at Michele. “You want what? Are you having guests?”

“No, just me.” Michele laughed at the woman’s reaction. “I said…”

“I heard what you said. Is the Mister coming home?” Anna brushed her fingers through her dark curly hair. “Of course, that’s it. The mister expects a nice home cooked meal.”

“No, the mister won’t be home,” Michele mimicked Anna’s rich accent and dragged out the words. I just thought it might be nice to have a good dinner for a change. Make it for two. I’ll invite Sarah, that’ll make it worth your while to cook.” She left the room. “Oh,” she stopped at the doorway, “make something rich and chocolaty for dessert?”

“I swear...” Anna muttered to herself as Michele went through the foyer and picked up her car keys. Louise came in, just as Michele prepared to leave.

“Morning, Miss.” Louise, quieter than Anna, seemed to have a difficult time adjusting to Michele’s friendly attitude. Though she was efficient and respectful, it was taking longer to break through her reserve.

“Morning, Louise, how are you?” Michele fluffed her hair in the mirror.”

“Fine, Miss, any special orders today?”

Michele looked at the tall, slender woman. Louise’s dark brown, mysterious eyes lowered as Michele scrutinized her. Michele wondered if she was married. Probably not. Not that it was any of her business, but something about those dark eyes held secrets.

“Yes, Louise, if you wouldn’t mind, Jason finished painting the guestrooms. They need to be put back together. Wash the bedding before you put it on and the drapes will probably need ironed. Other than that, just your normal routine.” She smiled, knowing her mother wouldn’t approve of such vague instruction. Looked like she’d have to have dinner alone with her parents on Friday.

Even now, she found the thought unpleasant. Her mother loved her and had her best interest at heart, but they didn’t like the same things. Michele hated the club, hated the snobbery and social lifestyle her parents led. Give her the casual life any day, and she’d be happy. Sometimes she wondered if she was really their kid or if they mixed her up in the hospital. Apparently Brad shared her same ideas. How could two kids grow up with almost identical lifestyles and dislike it so much?

“Bye, Miss.” Louise replied before Michele closed the door.

Michele hummed along with the radio on the way to work. She loved listening to country music and the catchy tunes often helped her mood. Today, with the sun shining and the fact that Brad called lightened her mood. Something about the sound and tone of his voice told her he missed her. She wished she hadn’t felt so shy. She should have told him how much she missed him. Determined to make amends if he called tonight, she strode into her office smiling.

BOOK: It's Only Make Believe
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