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Authors: Trice Hickman

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BOOK: Playing the Hand You're Dealt

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I looked at mother and wanted to curse. She had never even met Bradley! Now I was 100 percent sure that she was the same snake that hissed at me during the party last night. So before things turned ugly again I said good-bye to Daddy, walked out the door, and didn't look back.

Chapter 28

Brenda . . .

Her Life in Its Balance

B
renda sat at the kitchen table and watched her husband as he moved his pasta salad around the center of his plate. He was looking at his food in deep concentration. Brenda was livid that Ed had stayed out all night, supposedly with his best friend and universal ladies' man Ross Morgan, whom she despised.

Quietly, Brenda studied Ed as he stared blankly at his mostly untouched food. She knew that he never dallied when he ate a meal, so this was further evidence that something was weighing down his mind. She wanted so badly to tell Ed that she was aware of what he was up to, that she'd found the evidence, but she didn't have all her ammunition or game plan fully in place, so she knew she'd have to bide her time.

Brenda never thought that she and Ed would come to thisâdivorce! But just as surely as the sun was shining bright in the sky, that's where she knew her marriage was headed. Last night after her confrontation with Gerti, she began to think about the words they exchanged.
People are sick of your shit and they're not gonna stick around to take it anymore,
Gerti had said.

Even though Brenda disliked Gerti, the one thing she had to give the woman credit for was the very comment that Samantha had madeâshe'd never known Gerti to tell a lie. Brenda's mind raced. She knew that Gerti either sensed something coming or had direct knowledge of changes ahead, and she bet dollars to Prada that it involved her marriage.

She knew that her sex life with Ed had been on the decline for years, but they were still a fabulous-looking couple, living in a fabulous-looking home, driving fabulous-looking vehicles, and making life look just fabulous. She attributed the mundane existence of their marriage to the mere consequence of being with one person for so long.
You can't have it all,
she reasoned. She'd become settled in the notion that she and Ed would simply play out the rest of their lives in forced comfort, putting on a good face in public while privately tolerating each other as they had both learned to do.

But even before Gerti's harsh words, she had begun to notice a definite shift in Ed's behavior. He stopped following what had become their formulated script. Over the last week he'd been spending more time at his office downtown, and when he did finally return home late at night he went straight to his study, falling asleep on the couch by his desk on several occasions.

Her radar was on high alert. And now Gerti's pronouncement had confirmed her worst fears. After Gerti stormed out of the kitchen, Brenda ventured into Ed's study. She knew that he was precise and meticulously diligent in the way he kept his office. So she went through his things one piece of paper at a time, making sure to put each document, pen, folder, and paper clip back where she'd found it.

After an hour of snooping she hadn't uncovered a single thing. She had begun to lose hope when her eyes landed on a business card sticking out from the edge of a thick book that she had somehow overlooked. Her brows shot up to her hairline when she read the cover title:
Domestic Relations Law.
Her hands shook as she opened the pages to where the card had been lodged, and she gasped at the section in bold type that read
Divorce.
She drew in a deep breath, nearly falling out of Ed's chair when she recognized the name on the tiny 3 x 2 inch card that now held her life in its balance.

Brenda stared down at the business card of Anthony L. Longfellow, a well-known and prominent divorce attorney. Her heart beat fast as she thought about what her life would be like without Ed. How would she make it on her own? She knew she was beautiful, talented, and smart, with a certain
je ne sais quoi
that made her stand out in a crowd. But she also realized the hard truthâthat she'd never held a job outside the home, not even an internship in college. She started to think about the ways in which her life would change, and what people would say. She sat back in Ed's soft leather chair, knowing she had to approach the situation just as she had every other obstacle in her lifeâwith a well-planned strategy.

She was smart enough to know that unlike when they'd had problems in the past and Ed had threatened to leave her, he would no longer consider staying out of a sense of loyalty, or to keep their family together. Brenda thought about CJ, her little golden goose. Having that boy under her roof over the last year had been the next best thing to diamonds. Ed adored his grandson and was determined to provide a stable home for him. As long as CJ was around, Brenda knew that Ed would stay firmly rooted at home. But now that Samantha had suddenly decided to take a more active role in her son's life, and Emily had moved to town, the dynamics were quickly changing.

Brenda cursed herself for not recognizing the complications earlier on. Now Ed no longer had to worry about being the steady constant in CJ's life because he had help, and that left her in a vulnerable position. Brenda knew she had to find Ed's soft spot and manipulate it in order to keep the perfect life she'd worked so hard to maintain. Then it came to herâSamantha!

For reasons she never understood, Samantha had always been Ed's pride and joy. Brenda snapped her fingers and smiled, knowing that if she could get Samantha on her side, she could keep Ed. Ed had often agonized over their tumultuous mother/daughter relationship, and if she and Samantha could get on a good footing, Brenda knew it would be her new insurance policy. Her closeness with her daughter would bond them and would compel Samantha to help champion her cause to keep her marriage intact.

So Brenda set out to put her plan into action. She called Samantha that morning, ate a small serving of humble pie, and then invited her over for lunch. She even put forth an effort to produce tears to show her sincerity. But during their lunch, no matter how civil she tried to be, Samantha refused to play nice. Even though Brenda wanted to practically shake her ungrateful daughter and be done with her, she remained calm, knowing she had to keep her wits about her and not explode in front of Ed. Somehow, she managed to hold things together until Samantha finally walked out the door.

Now, as she watched Ed while he continued to eat his pasta salad, ignoring her as if she weren't even in the room, a painful realization shot through Brenda's body. Emotions stirred inside her that she hadn't felt since she had purposely stopped taking her birth control pills thirty-two years ago. What she felt was desperation. And this time she didn't have an obligation to hang over Ed's head.

Ed finished his food, put his plate in the sink, and turned to her. “I'm going upstairs to pack.”

“Why? Where are you going now?”

“I'm hanging out with Ross. It's his last night in town,” he said flatly. “Besides, I wouldn't want to come in late and ruin your beauty sleep.” And without another word, Ed left the room before she could respond.

Brenda had learned long ago that the opposite of love wasn't hate, it was indifference, and that was what Ed had become toward herâindifferent.

Brenda poured herself another glass of bubbly and then went into the den. She kicked off her shoes and curled up on the couch, preparing herself for her regular afternoon nap. She knew that she couldn't afford to operate in panic mode. She had to be smart about the situation and formulate a new plan. So she relaxed herself, not wanting her recent worries and stress to cause any unsightly wrinkles. Within minutes she drifted off to sleep, dreaming about her new strategy.

Chapter 29

Ed . . .

You Learn to Question Everything

I
nearly choked on my pasta salad when I heard Sam's news.

“Emily and Bradley are back together!” she announced.

I wanted to ask, when, how? But before I could get any details Sam was out the door. I tried to play it cool, but I had no more appetite for food. All I could do was move my pasta salad around on my plate and think about Emily and Bradley.
Is that why she had the box of condoms in her nightstand?
I wondered.
But she told me that she hadn't been with anyone in eight months.
I was about to become flustered, but then I reminded myself that I needed to gather the facts before I could convict.

I ate in silence while Brenda watched me. I could almost see the wheels turning behind her manipulative eyes. She was up to something, I just didn't know what. A good part of me wanted to lay everything out in the open, but I knew I had to finesse the situation carefully. So I stood, put my plate in the sink, and told Brenda not to expect me back home tonight. She was pissed at the thought of me hanging out with Ross again, but I ignored her agitation and headed upstairs.

I stood in my closet and thought about Emily as I put my brown herringbone suit into my black garment bag. Sometimes when people waited so long to be together, the anticipation and excitement could be more fulfilling than the actual moment. But that was far from the case with Emily. She was everything I had imagined, desired, and hoped for.

I'd always loved her quiet sexiness, which I found much more appealing than the in-your-face boldness that some women flaunted. There's nothing more alluring and sensual to a man than a woman who's got it, but doesn't feel the need to parade it. That was Emily's very style and definition. It was the subtle things about her that made her irresistibly sexy in a natural way, like how she could glide into a room and let the feminine sway of her hips serve as her calling card, rather than making a boisterous entrance. It was the way she threw her head back ever so gently when she laughed. The way she concerned herself with the well-being of others, and the way she made me feel, alive and hopeful. Those qualities were a big turn-on for me.

Some people went their entire life without feeling what I was experiencing now. And that was why I also realized I had to be careful. I'd seen it a million times.Victory could be lost right near the finish line. All it took was one mistake. I knew I had to watch Brenda. With that thought in mind, I grabbed my overnight bags and headed downstairs to my study.

I had suspected that Brenda snooped around in here from time to time, looking for things that were none of her concern. And if I knew her as I thought I did, she had been in here last night. The first thing I noticed was that my chair was slightly askew, but I waved it off because I couldn't remember if I had forgotten to push it in or not. So I took a seat behind my desk and studied the way I'd left it the day before. I always placed things in a certain spot, and sure enough, I noticed that my pencil holder was sitting at the far corner of my desk instead of the center where I'd left it. “Bingo,” I whispered. “She's been in here.”

I sat back to see what other evidence I could find, and then it hit me without having to search. My eyes went straight to the law book under my desk. I picked it up and looked at Longfellow's card peeking from inside, marking the divorce section that I had been reading. I knew there was no way that Brenda would've overlooked this. “Shit, she knows,” I hissed in a low voice. That explained the easygoing mood she tried to force herself into earlier this afternoon when Sam was here. She knew I was planning to divorce her and she was trying to launch a preemptive strike.

Although I didn't think Brenda deserved honesty, I didn't think she deserved my deceit either. Even when I committed indiscretions in the past, I hated lying to her and sneaking around. And now I hated it even more because this time things were different. Emily was really special to me. More than special. I loved her.

Then my mind landed back to the statement Sam had made before she left. Had Emily and Bradley really reconciled? Had last night been a fling for her? A wild and crazy tryst to bring in her thirtieth birthday? I couldn't believe it, not from Emily. I knew my mind wouldn't rest until I got to the bottom of whatever had given Sam the impression that Bradley was back on the scene. I gathered my things, walked past Brenda, who was sleeping on the sofa, and headed for my truck.

All I could think about was the box of condoms Emily kept in her nightstand drawer and the comment Sam made about Emily and Bradley's reunion.Then I thought about Ross's question to me from two nights ago. I couldn't say with certainty that Emily wasn't seeing anyone else, and I hadn't asked her directly.Yes, she'd said she loved me and that she wanted to be with me, but that didn't preclude another man from being in the picture.

I didn't want to believe that Emily was that type of woman. I was an excellent judge of character, and when I thought about the sweet, loving, and genuinely good person I knew, I found it difficult to even conceive that Emily would make love to me one night and then go back to Bradley the next day. Hell, Sam had to be mistaken.

But I'd lived long enough to know that anyone, if given certain opportunities or circumstances, was capable of doing just about anything. When you've worked in a profession like mine and seen criminal behavior up close, you come to know that the implausible is possible, and you learn to question everything. It wasn't about what you thought or what you saw, it was about what you could prove, and right now I couldn't prove a damn thing.

But I knew that if Emily and I were going to build a relationship, we had to start with a foundation based on trust. I almost laughed at the irony of my situation. I was a man who was cheating on his wife, and I wanted to build a trusting relationship with my mistress.

I turned down Emily's street and called her, praying she was there, alone. She picked up on the first ring.

“You'll never believe what happened after you left,” she said in a rushed voice.

“Are you free? Can I come over?”

“Sure . . . um, is everything all right?” she asked. She could hear the rough edge in my voice.

“Yes, I'm fine. I just want to make sure you're not busy.”

“No, I'm not. Ed, what's wrong?”

I didn't want to show how jealous I was, but hell, I loved this woman and there was something about her that rendered me helpless and broke down my machismo. “Sam said that you and Bradley are back together.”

“That's what I was trying to tell you . . .”

“So it's true?” I put on my brakes right in the middle of her street.

“Of course not,” she said, sounding offended. “Samantha saw the bracelet you gave me this morning and thought it was from Bradley. I couldn't tell her that it was from you, but at the same time I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I let her believe what she wanted.”

My heart eased its way up from the pit of my stomach and finally settled back into my chest where it belonged. “Oh,” I said. I felt completely foolish.

Honk, honk!
The driver in the car behind me laid on his horn, then swerved around me in a frustrated rush.

“Ed, where are you?”

“In the middle of your street.”

“Drive around the back, I'll be waiting for you.”

A minute later I parked my truck next to Emily's car, just as I did last night. I walked through her back door, only this time I was greeted with a warm hug and a lingering kiss. “It's good to be back,” I said, pulling her in close.

She led me by the hand and I followed, glad to climb the stairs on our way to her bedroom. I put down my bags, kicked off my shoes, and reached for Emily, easing her onto the soft comforter. But instead of straddling herself atop my lap as I'd hoped, she sat in the space beside me.

“Ed, we need to talk.”

Whenever a woman said those words it couldn't be good.We'd been together for less than twenty-four hours and I was already in the doghouse. “Okay,” I said. “What do you want to talk about?”

She looked at me and touched the bracelet around her wrist that I had given her this morning after she'd given me the most outstanding blow job I'd ever had. “I heard the accusatory tone in your voice when you asked about Bradley. I can't believe you thought I was still seeing him.”

“I had to ask.”

“Do you really think I'd make love to you, tell you that I loved you, and then be with another man?” she asked, releasing a deep sigh. “Ed, I've waited for what has felt like my entire life to be with you.There's no one else for me.”

I looked back into Emily's eyes and knew that she was telling me the absolute truth. I felt like shit for doubting her because I could see that my accusation had hurt her. “I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“We need to establish trust.”

“Agreed.”

Emily crossed her legs, looking like a kid sitting around a camp fire. She was getting comfortable and this could only mean one thing, she wanted to have the “what is our future going to hold” talk. I was actually relieved because although we had covered a lot of bases last night and a few this morning, there were still many important issues we'd yet to touch.

“I want to talk about our future.”

I laughed. “I kind of figured that.”

She laughed, too, giving me a gentle smile. “Seriously, Ed.”

“Okay, you start.”

“Well, let's get the toughest one out of the way first . . . Brenda.”

I explained to her that Brenda had been snooping in my study and that she more than likely already knew about my plans. “Like I said this morning, after I meet with Longfellow tomorrow I think I'll be ready to serve her with divorce papers within the next few weeks.”

“That soon?” she said in an unsure voice.

“I thought you'd be happy.The sooner I'm free, the sooner we can be together.”

“And the sooner we'll have to tell Samantha.”

“She'll come around.Trust me.”

She looked unconvinced but continued on. “Okay, what about children?”

I knew this was going to be next on her list, and honestly, it was number one on mine. It was something I'd given a great deal of thought to, especially over the last couple of days. Emily was in her prime childbearing years, she loved kids, and she'd make a fantastic mother. On the other hand, I was quickly approaching senior citizen status. I had a grown daughter her exact same age and a grandchild who attended the school where she worked. She wanted children. I didn't. Those were the hard cold facts. But I loved this beautiful, soft-spoken woman sitting next to me, and I knew that children were a non-negotiable part of her future.

“You don't want any more children, do you?” she asked as her eyes zeroed in on mine.

“The thought of diapers and sippy cups scares the hell out of me.”

“I understand.”

“But,” I said, taking her hand in mine, “I know you want kids, and you should because you'll make a great mother. Look at the fine job you've done with CJ.” She beamed with pride at the mention of her godson. “Emily, I want us to have a full life together and I don't want you to feel deprived of anything just because you'll be with a man old enough to be your father.”

It was the first time our age difference had come up, so now all the big elephants we had skirted were parading around the room.

“Does our age difference bother you?” Emily asked.

“It used to. I felt like a pervert for wanting you. Hell, you could be my daughter.”

“But I'm not. I'm a woman who loves you.”

BOOK: Playing the Hand You're Dealt

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