THE GREAT PRETENDER (32 page)

Olivia shrugged. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not going. I can’t…I just can’t.” She began walking away.

“Olivia!” Tracy’s tone was sharp. Olivia stopped in her tracks and spun around to face her mother. Tears filled Tracy’s eyes, but her words were firm. “If you leave this house and refuse to participate in this—
a fight for our family
—you’ve turned your back on this family, and basically telling us to go to hell.” Her next words were whispered: “If you do that, stay away. I don’t want to see you in this house again. You won’t be welcomed back—and you certainly won’t get anymore financial help…Not even to buy yourself an aspirin.”

Olivia and Valerie gasped.

Reginald, still feeling broken, looked from Tracy to Olivia, anticipating her response.

Olivia stood frozen. Her mind rejected her mother’s words.
Stay away, you won’t be welcomed back?
As if this wouldn’t all blow over soon enough. She couldn’t be serious!

But, what if she was?

“Mom, you’re not serious—you can’t mean that!” Olivia stepped back into the room. “Just because I don’t want to go see a shrink?”

Tracy said nothing. She simply dried her cheeks and stared at her daughter. Olivia was well aware that it ran deeper than that—much deeper.

Valerie, still crying herself, watched the scene play out as though it were all just an elaborate dream. This simply couldn’t be happening…
why was this happening?

Finally, eyes filling with tears of frustration, Olivia caved. “Fine! I’ll go! But I resent that you’re forcing me into this!” With that, she stormed off toward the staircase.

They were all sitting in silence when she came back down, carrying her purse.

Without a word, Olivia strode out the front door, closing it quietly behind herself.

J
ust a few hours after her exhausting confrontation with Roger, Justine opened her front door to Brent Stone. A shard of apprehension shot through her as their eyes collided. What was she doing? She didn’t know this man from Adam! And she hadn’t had sex with anyone but Roger Roman in more than eighteen years. Was she
really
ready now?

Brent took in her attire, his eyes leisurely sweeping over her. It was obvious—pleasurably so—that she had dressed for the occasion. She was ready. She was ready indeed.

The blue spaghetti-strap dress—if you could call it a dress—ended abruptly, just below her buttocks, grazing her cheeks. It looked as if a light breeze would leave her
quite
exposed. Brent liked it…He liked it so much, he began growing deliciously hard.
He was ready.

“You’re here.” She stepped aside, letting him in. This man had such a presence! His cologne filled her nostrils, intoxicating her, and she smiled. She felt like a schoolgirl, like a virgin again. And her body begged to be deflowered by this impressively virile man. As he took a seat on her sofa, Justine ached for him to take her into his arms that very second. Leaving a polite distance between them, she sat beside him. The rhythmic sounds of her smooth jazz CD elevated her desire.

For a moment they simply stared at each other, both enjoying the high-voltage attraction flowing between them. The circumstances under which they met crept its way into Justine’s mind, but she quickly pushed it away. She wanted this guy, and she didn’t care how she had come to meet him. She could think about that later.

Brent sat studying Justine. He could tell she was ready to be dominated. She didn’t need coaxing or persuasive speeches, as most did. She’d been fucked over long enough and was ready for a good time.

“Would you like a drink?”

He didn’t respond, nor did his eyes leave hers as he slowly moved over her, pushing her onto her back. He kissed her hard then, and Justine felt instant moisture between her legs.
Why had she wasted so much time pining for Roger?

Brent slid his tongue into her mouth and parted her thighs, slipping his fingers under the dress. When he discovered her bare and dripping, he lost control. A needy groan escaped him and he quickly got rid of his pants. Justine felt him hard and pulsing as the tip of his penis pierced the lapels of her sex. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

Then he was inside her, riding her, and it was intensely delicious. Between her cries and his groans, they drowned out the saxophones and pianos coming from the speakers.

When it was
over and they had drifted from their high, they had to laugh at the picture they made on the sofa. She, spread-eagle, her blue mini rolled up under her arms, and he, crammed into her and bottomless, still wearing his silk shirt, which was now damp with sweat.

Much later, they lay entwined, sipping Moet as the music played, and they talked. Brent admitted his immediate attraction to her and how he’d dubbed her “the beautiful mystery woman.” Though Justine was flattered, she was protective of her own thoughts. Roger had known her heart and soul through and through, and it had done more harm than good for their marriage. She would not wear her feelings on her sleeve for any other man, even the irresistible Brent Stone.

“So, what’s the story with your friend Tracy?”

“Hmm?” Justine was deliciously sated. Her yearning body had been more than satisfied. She was feeling bliss, pure bliss.

“Tracy Brooks. Is she leaving her husband?” Brent gently stroked her gorgeous hair.

“No, I don’t think so. They’re in a rough place right now. But I do know that they love each other
very much
. I just hope they can work it out.”

“And you? Are you leaving
your
husband?” Brent’s hand stilled. “Because I’d hate to have an affair with a married woman.”

She smiled against his chest before saying, “So does that mean you plan to do this again?”

His expression was serious. “Oh, hell yes. There’s something about you that seems to draw me in…Remember the moth and the flame?” His eyes hinted that the attraction was more than sexual.

She told him about her visit with Roger earlier that day. After having a look at the glossy photos that featured none other than Roger Roman himself, Roger had agreed to pay her off instead of fighting her in court. When all was said and done, Justine would never have to work a day in her life…Befitting compensation under the circumstances.

Now as she lay in the arms of this extremely attractive and available man, Justine relaxed for the first time in years. She knew with absolute certainty that she could survive without Roger, that she could be happy without him. And she no longer
needed
to rely on anything for reassurance.

Making love with Brent was the beginning—the beginning of the rest of her life. Goodbye, Roger Roman.

A
s Thanksgiving Day approached, Tracy busied herself helping her mother make arrangements for their yearly feast. Each year they alternated between her parents’ house and Reginald’s.

She and Reggie had agreed to hold off on their therapy plans until after Thanksgiving. Tracy wondered if that had been such a good idea. The situation in the house had become even more strained an unbearable.

Several weeks had passed since the memorable family meeting, and Olivia had been scarce. Tracy only got a glimpse of her on the few occasions she came to take Valerie out. Olivia would drive up, blow the horn, and wait for her sister to rush out to the car.

It was tearing Tracy apart.

She missed her. Their relationship had always been such a close one. But Tracy did not regret giving her the ultimatum. Olivia had given her no choice. The time had come for Olivia to brush that ridiculous chip off her shoulder. After all, her father had provided her with all she ever wanted or needed her entire life. Hell, did she forget where the money had come from to buy that town house? Olivia’s job would never pay the rent.

Yes, the time had come to take a stand, show her what really mattered in life. Even so, Tracy had no idea what she would’ve done had Olivia called her bluff. She didn’t even want to think about the possibility.

Valerie, on the other hand, had begun spending much more time with them, with her mother in particular. When Tracy was cooking dinner in the kitchen, Valerie was usually there, offering to help. Whenever she was going out to run errands or grocery shop, Valerie wanted to accompany her. In her heart, Tracy loved the change in Valerie. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what sparked the sudden attentiveness…Was it because of the news about Denise? Perhaps Valerie, too, sensed the need for togetherness at this pivotal time in their lives.

Reginald, as expected, had been going the extra mile to bring them closer together. Never had he been more determined or more sincere in his efforts. And the more effort he put forth, the further away it seemed to push Tracy.

Even though he had no way of knowing, Franklin hovered between them like an air pocket. Each time Reginald surprised her with a special gift, or caressed her in their bed at night and whispered tender words in her ear as they made love, she was haunted by her secret. She was suddenly unable to get it out of her mind, and she feared she never would. And what was worse? Nowadays, Frank seemed to be around constantly, and he had a serious attitude problem. Even Reginald had commented on it.

Frank made efforts to get her alone on several occasions, but Tracy refused. What was there to talk about? Her conscience was eating her alive as it was. She found herself wishing now that he would just disappear from their lives all together…And she sensed that Frank was very much aware of her discomfort.

Tracy knew that eventually, she would have to find some way to put the guilt behind her. She wished she had someone to talk to about it, but whom? Shame kept her from revealing such a thing to anyone…

It was funny how different things were now. When Reginald was away, she had taken great pleasure in her affair with Frank; now that he had come home to her and confessed wrongdoing of his own, she felt like she should be burned at the stake for what she’d done.

One thing was for sure: Confession was out of the question.

Or was it?

The day before
Thanksgiving, Tracy was sitting at her vanity table, blow-drying her hair, when Reginald entered their bedroom with a long white jewelry box. Tracy felt the familiar cringe at the sight of yet another gift. God, he was doing so much. And though she loved him for it, it was only making things worst. The shame was festering…a vengeful monster within her.

She watched him walk over to where she sat; so tall, so handsome and capable. She’d loved this man all her adult life. He was the father of her babies…The love of her life.

And she had slept with Frank.

“This is for you.” Reginald placed the box directly in front of her.

Catching his eye in the mirror, she said, “You know, you don’t have to keep doing this. I’m okay. We’ll be okay. I know where your heart is.”

Taking off his coat, Reggie sat next to her on the ottoman. “Open the box.”

Smiling a little, Tracy removed the lid from the box. Inside lay two platinum necklaces against gold cotton. Both had diamond-encrusted pendants that read T & R, NOVEMBER 25, 2004. Her eyes filled with tears.

They already had necklaces that read T & R, APRIL 18, 1983, which they used to wear faithfully while they were dating.

“Today we’re marking the beginning of the rest of our lives. Tonight, I want us to
officially
put the past behind us and start fresh.” He reached for one of the necklaces and placed it around her neck. “And I want us to wear these just like we used to wear the old ones all those years ago.”

Tracy slowly reached out and folded her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and held him close.
How much of this can I take?
she thought.

“Trace? Can you do that? Are you ready to put this whole mess behind us and really move on? I know we have Denise to think about, but are you sure you can handle it? Because I need you to be sure.” He pulled away, searching her eyes for reassurance.

“Reggie, I’m not going anywhere. You know I’m not. I’ve made mistakes, too, but like you said in New York…” Her gaze fell before she continued. “Just because there wasn’t a child as a result doesn’t make me any less at fault.”