Saving All My Lovin'. Donna HillЧитать онлайн книгу.
Ann Marie agreed and nearly fell on the couch.
“I’m going to make some coffee,” Barbara said, setting down the bag of food she carried.
“I’ll get her something to put on,” Ellie offered and headed to Ann Marie’s bedroom.
“I’ll join you for a drink if ya don’t mind,” Stephanie said.
“Pull up a drink…I mean a chair.” Ann Marie giggled.
Stephanie sat down but didn’t fix a drink. “What’s going on with you, Ann?” she asked, so gently it tugged at the noose around Ann Marie’s heart.
Her bottom lip trembled. She and Stephanie had been at odds for years, making a habit of rubbing each other the wrong way. But recently they’d begun to tiptoe across the divide that separated them, discovering that what set them apart were the very things that made them so much alike. Had this been a year, even six months earlier, the last person she would have turned to in confidence would have been Stephanie.
“I feel so shaky and unsure of myself. Weak like a baby.” She looked at Stephanie with such anguish in her wide eyes that Stephanie actually felt her pain.
How well Stephanie knew feelings of helplessness, to have your life and emotions controlled by forces stronger than you. It had cost her dearly over the years and she was still in the throes of relinquishing the hold her past had on her present.
“Is it Terrance?” Stephanie asked softly.
Ann Marie nodded her head and the room did a slow spin.
“Did he contact you again?”
“Yes.” She swallowed. “Something I never told no one.”
“What?”
“I’m still married to the bastard. Him say him coming back for me.”
“Damn,” Stephanie said in a hush. “What are you going to do?”
“Don’t know.”
“You need a good lawyer. Maybe you’re not really even married anymore. It’s been so long.”
“I should be so lucky.” She leaned back against the couch cushions and closed her eyes just as Barbara emerged from the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee.
“But Ann, don’t you think it’s time that Raquel met her father and let her make the decision for herself?”
Ann Marie jumped up so fast and the room spun so quickly she fell back down onto the couch before the words could get out of her mouth. She breathed in deeply through her nose until her stomach settled. “He’ll just twist her around his finger; charm her into believing that he’s the injured one.”
“Is that what you’re really worried about?” Barbara asked and handed her the cup of coffee.
Ann Marie took the cup in two hands and sipped the steaming black brew. “Always cut to the chase with you,” she murmured.
“Everyone deserves to know them pops. True. But me t’ink once him back in Raquel’s life, him be back in mine.”
“What did this man do to you?” Elizabeth asked. She knew what it felt like to have a philandering husband. She’d just gotten rid of one herself. But this definitely sounded more serious that than. “Did he beat you?” she eeked out, shuddering at the thought.
She looked from one face to another. “He sexed me up so good that I haven’t been right for another man since.”
“Ooooh,” they sang.
“We should all be so lucky,” Stephanie said drolly.
“You don’t know what it’s like to have someone have that much control over you,” Ann Marie said. “To need and want someone so badly you put up with every retched t’ing they do to keep ‘em.”
“Maybe he’s old, bald and fat now,” Stephanie offered.
“Even old, bald and fat Terrance Bishop would be more than the average woman could handle.”
“Damn,” they sang in harmony.
“What you need is a unified front,” Barbara said and stood. She began to pace. “Once he sees that you have support, he won’t try anything. You don’t be alone with him. No late night dinners, no private lunches.” She turned to Ann Marie and wagged a finger at her. “And don’t let him in the front door. If he wants to see Raquel let them make arrangements to meet. You stay out of it. Put your foot down girl. You did it once, you can do it again.”
“And get a lawyer,” Stephanie said.
“For what?” Elizabeth asked.
“They’re still married,” Stephanie said.
Chapter 5
Terrance walked into police headquarters, dressed as usual in his tailor-made suit, shoes gleaming and his salt-and-pepper hair brushed to a soft shine, the gentle natural waves capping his perfectly shaped head. A smooth nut-brown complexion served as the canvas for jet-black almond-shaped eyes, soft curling lashes, lush lips and an alluring cleft in his solid chin.
At fifty-six he could easily pass for a man half his age. He made a point of swimming every day and would rather walk than use his many cars. The sandy beaches of Jamaica were his gym. He ran along the shore every morning for at least an hour before taking his swim in the clear blue ocean.
Now as commissioner of the police force it was more important than ever to maintain his look. It had been a long time coming. For years he’d danced in his father’s shadow. But with Cyril Bishop’s passing the prior year, Terrance had been appointed in his place without protest. And with position came power. With the force at his disposal and a commanding title to back him up, he’d been able to use the resources available to him to locate his wife and daughter.
His next step up the ladder was to run for office. The campaign was slated to begin in three months. His reunion with his wife and daughter would surely guarantee him the spot he coveted. A loving family always warmed a voter’s heart. He intended to have his wife and daughter at his side.
“Good morning Commissioner,” Stacy his latest conquest and administrative assistant greeted.
He flashed her a smile that reawakened the fire between them from the previous night. He’d have to find a way to be rid of her soon. But in the meantime she was a pleasant diversion.
“Good morning,” he said in his slightly British accent, acquired from his years of education at Oxford in England.
“I left your messages on your desk.”
He nodded and headed down the corridor to his office, the heavy wooden door embossed in gold letters with his name. Absently he ran his hand across the raised letters before opening the door and stepping inside.
He went to his desk and picked up the handful of messages, tossing each one aside as he reviewed them. One caught his attention.
It was from Raquel.
He came around the desk and sat down. Call me. We need to talk.
He licked his lips then picked up the phone, dialing the international operator. Moments later he heard the phone ringing on the other end.
“Hello?”
“Raquel. It’s your dad. I just received your message.”
“I wanted you to know that I’ve moved out of Mom’s house. I’m staying in a hotel.”
Terrance frowned. “Why are you in a hotel?”
“I couldn’t stay there any longer.”
“Did something happen? Was it because of me?”
“She lied to me all these years. She never told me about