Unexpected Interruptions (11 page)

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Authors: Trice Hickman

BOOK: Unexpected Interruptions
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A Special Brand Of Torture...
Victoria was in no condition to negotiate the stairs so Ted picked her up as he'd done in the park, carefully holding her in his arms. Her body heat and salty-sweet smell were an arousing combination to his senses. After what seemed like a climb up Mount Everest, they finally reached the top of the stairs.
“You smell woodsy . . . I like it,” Victoria purred, nestling her nose against the side of his neck.
Ted was determined not to succumb to what he wanted. “Uh, Victoria, which way to your bedroom?”
“To the right,” she breathed into his ear.
He carried her over the threshold. When he looked around, he saw a room that was as sensuous and beautifully adorned as the woman he held in his arms.
“Can you help me over to my bathroom, I need to
shooowwer
,” Victoria said, slurring her words again.
“I don't think that's a good idea. You're too out of it from all the medication and you can barely speak straight. The pharmacist said you'll be this way for a while.”
“But I wanna get clean,” she whined.
“You might slip and hurt yourself even worse. Take a nap and sleep it off, you need the rest,” he said, in a firm but gentle tone. He knew it was the drugs that had her behaving like his elementary school-aged niece.
“Okay,” Victoria huffed, too weary to argue. “Can you help me over to my closet so I can change out of these hospital clothes?”
Ted helped her through the small sitting room, and over to her closet. It was the most neatly organized space he'd ever seen, with pristine rows of clothes, custom built-ins, and floor to ceiling shelves on one side that housed more shoes than he thought possible for one person to own.
“Can you hand me my robe? It's on the hook of my bathroom door,” Victoria said.
Ted walked over to the bathroom, retrieved the pink silk robe, and handed it to her. He quickly turned away when she began to undress without warning, peeling down to her underwear. He resisted the urge to turn back around for a peek, deciding that this was a special brand of torture engineered to test his strength.
All Victoria could think about was how good it would feel to lay under her seven hundred thread-count Yves Delorme sheets. “I think you were right. I'm so tired,” she said in a whisper, tossing her clothes to the side and pulling on her robe.
Ted brought her to her bed, laying her safely atop the comforter. Her robe shifted open, and for the first time he was able to take a good look at her bare, exposed leg. He winced when he saw the large gash on her thigh that had required stitches, and the small scrapes and bruises up and down her leg. And even though her ankle was bandaged, he could see that it was badly swollen. He closed her robe and touched her face with the back of his hand. She was sound asleep.
He went downstairs, and returned with her crutches and medicine. He reached into the bag, pulled out the prescription-medicated cream, and attended to her wounds as the doctor had instructed. He knew she was in deep slumber because she didn't flinch when he touched her painful-looking flesh.
The Perfect Combination...
Downstairs, Ted explored Victoria's house, secretly delighting in the unsupervised private tour. This time when he entered her kitchen he wasn't fumbling through her cabinets looking for food or dishes. He had more time to take it all in.
So this is where she cooks,
he said to himself. He saw at least two dozen cookbooks on the shelf under her large island, and two boxes of Godiva chocolates sitting on the counter near the refrigerator.
Ahh, she likes chocolate.
He walked around the corner, peeked into the den and then into her home gym. He headed back down the hallway that led to the dining room and stood there, admiring the antique dining table, upholstered chairs, and bronze chandelier hanging above.
Nice,
he thought. He walked around the corner and found himself back in the living room. He hadn't noticed the photographs on the side table before, but now that he was more relaxed he went over to take a look.
There were various pictures of Victoria with family and friends. A large black and white photograph of an interracial couple caught Ted's eye. He picked it up for a closer inspection. The handsome pair was leaning against a dark-colored Buick, the tall black man towering above the small white woman. He wore a light-colored shirt, plaid bell-bottoms, and sported a small Afro, perfectly suited to his distinguished face. His skin was dark and his eyes shown so brightly through the picture that Ted felt as though the man was staring directly at him. He held his arm around the waist of a petite white woman wearing a miniskirt and platform heels. Her long black hair hung down her back. She was beautiful with a happy smile. But what struck Ted was that the white woman bore a startling resemblance to Victoria.
After studying the picture for several minutes, his eyes were pulled to a more recent color photo of the couple, with Victoria standing in between them. The man was dressed in a Brooks Brothers–looking suit. His once neatly manicured Afro was now a closely cropped tinge of receding hair. The photo revealed the true color of his deep black skin, and his eyes were still as piercing as they had been in his youth. The woman was wearing a yellow dress and pearls. Her hair was much shorter now, bobbed at her chin, but she still possessed the same beauty and happy smile. Looking at the photo, Ted noticed that the woman wasn't white as he'd originally thought. As he peered closer, he could see the light fawn hue of her complexion. He looked back and forth at the two pictures and smiled.
She's the perfect combination of them both.
Say What's On Your Mind...
The doorbell woke Ted from his sleep. He'd been flipping through a travel magazine he'd found in a basket beside the sofa when he drifted off after his private tour. He sprang to his feet and answered the door, greeting Debbie and Rob with an ease that made them all feel more familiar than they really were.
“How's the patient?” Debbie asked with concern.
“Better. She's been asleep since we spoke earlier. She was in a lot of pain, but she's resting comfortably now.” Ted wanted to stay with Victoria for the rest of the evening, but he knew that he should leave. “Before I forget,” he said, heading toward the door, “she won't need to take another dose of painkillers for at least two more hours.”
Rob smiled, “Thanks again. We can see that Victoria was well taken care of.” He shook Ted's hand again, this time more firmly, acknowledging his obvious affection for their friend.
Victoria heard voices downstairs. She was still groggy, but much more coherent than she'd been before falling asleep hours ago. She looked down at her leg and cringed at the sight. There was a greasy film covering her wounds . . .
Ted?
She heard his voice trail off, and the door close behind him. Victoria sat up in her bed. She wanted to see him, to thank him again, but he was gone.
“Hey, how ya feelin'?” Debbie asked, entering the room with Rob behind her.
“A little tired, but much better.”
Debbie walked over to the bed and looked down at Victoria's leg. “Oh, Victoria . . . ”
Rob took a quick glance, then turned his head. “I'll give you ladies a little privacy,” he said, and with that he headed back downstairs.
“Did Ted just leave?” Victoria asked.
“Yeah, poor guy, he feels so guilty. I tried to tell him that your accident wasn't his fault. That you're just clumsy as hell and old as dirt,” Debbie smiled. They both laughed until Debbie became quiet, changing to a serious tone. “Listen, I've been thinking about something you said last weekend.”
“What's that?”
Debbie spoke slowly. “What you said . . . about dating white men . . . ”
The two friends stared at each other in silence.
Finally, Victoria cleared her throat. “Debbie, just get it all out, say what's on your mind.”
“Okay. You're dismissing Ted's attraction to you because he's white, and that bothers me. I never knew you felt this way about interracial dating.”
Victoria sighed. “It's a complicated issue, but it's not that I dislike white men. I just love brothers. I've always felt a natural connection with men who share my same skin, culture, and ethnic background. Does that make me wrong?”
“No, but it damn sure limits your options.”
“You may be right, but your argument is lost on Ted. The fact that he's white, and my boss, doesn't bother me nearly as much as the fact that he's married,” Victoria sighed. “So for now, can you please give it a rest? I'm recovering and I need peace, not diversity training.”
Debbie could see that Victoria was struggling, and it wasn't just from her injuries. “Okay, but this conversation isn't over. And for what it's worth, I like Ted. He's so
fiii-eeene!”
“Well, I have to agree with you on that,” Victoria blushed, “and you should see him in a pair of running shorts. Talk about hot!” She fanned herself as Debbie joined in for a good girlfriend-laugh.
Just The Right Things To Say . . .
Ted thought about her touch, her smile, and the warmth of her breath against his skin. He didn't remember getting on the highway, turning down the winding streets, or inserting his key card into the main gate that served to guard the exclusive neighborhood where he lived. Only when he turned off the engine, sitting in his four-car garage, did he realize he was home.
He walked into the kitchen, headed straight to the refrigerator, and grabbed a cold beer and a sandwich that Rosa, his housekeeper, had left for him. He sat at the table in the breakfast nook and ate the quick meal in only a few bites.
What am I doing? I must be crazy!
Ted thought to himself. He was surprised by what he'd done and the way he'd been acting. Yesterday, he'd given Jen instructions to leave once Victoria arrived for their meeting. His assistant always stayed until his meetings ended in case he needed her, but he wanted privacy for this occasion, so he'd told her to go home early and enjoy her weekend. And this morning he'd actually gone jogging with Victoria, then over to her house this afternoon . . .
Damn! Why can't I get her out of my mind?
he wondered, allowing a smile to form at the thought of her.
“I'll be gone for the next two weeks,” the raspy voice roared. Ted's wife jarred him from his daydream. “What are you smiling about?” she asked.
Trudy stood before him in the middle of the kitchen. She was dressed in a designer pantsuit, her golden locks cascading at her shoulders. Her tightly pulled face showed no trace of compassion, just pricey cosmetic procedures.
“Why do you care?” was Ted's unfeeling response.
“Whatever,” Trudy said, brushing off his remark. “I'll be at the spa in Phoenix.”
“Try not to spend too much of my money while you're at it,” Ted growled, clearly pissed.
Trudy looked him dead in the eyes. “Don't mess with me, and I won't mess with you,” she spat out. “And in case you've forgotten, it's
our
money that I'll be spending,” she snapped, then turned on her heels and headed out the door.
Ted sat in his chair, gripped by regret and his own weakness.
When they married, Ted had been twenty-four years old, and Trudy, one year younger. They'd met at a party that Ted and a few of his classmates had thrown to celebrate their graduation from Harvard Business School. A co-worker of Trudy's was dating one of the graduates, and had invited her to tag along.
Ted was instantly attracted to her youthful beauty and natural charm. She was smart, funny, and always seemed to know just the right things to say. She wasn't college educated, but he admired her curiosity for learning. She worked at one of the local museums, and had a passion for fine art. They enjoyed a whirlwind courtship full of romantic candlelight dinners and nights of wild, passionate sex.
But his best friend Barry had cautioned him about his new love. He and Barry had been like brothers since their prep school days. “Ted, she's hot and everything, but slow it down. Just give it a little time, don't rush into anything,” Barry had warned.
Jake Johnson, Ted's friend and roommate from his undergraduate days at Princeton, had warned him as well. “Man, be cool and use your head with this woman. You've only known each other a few months. Take your time. What's the rush?”
“Theodore, you really don't know a lot about this girl, or her family for that matter,” his mother had said. “You never know someone until you look closely into their background. Trust me on this. I know what I'm talking about,” Carolyn Thornton had warned with an eerie foreboding. “Your father and I are very concerned that you may be getting yourself into something you're not ready for.”
Ted ignored them all. In less than two months, he and Trudy hopped a weekend flight to Vegas and stood before a Justice of the Peace. It wasn't the kind of ceremony that Ted's mother had dreamed of for her youngest son, but it was the way Trudy had wanted it. She'd said that she wanted to start her life with Ted as soon as possible.
But very quickly after they married, things began to change. Trudy quit her job at the museum, and Ted couldn't understand why. When they were dating, she couldn't stop talking about the museum and its interesting exhibits, paintings, and sculptures. She'd said she loved her job. But when Ted asked her why she'd quit, she simply shrugged her shoulders and said, “I think I need a change.”
Meanwhile, Ted was busy building his career. Thanks to his well-heeled father, the Thornton name was synonymous with success, and through his influential contacts, he'd helped Ted to land a promising position with a large software company in the heart of downtown Boston. Ted knew that if he learned all he could, he would rise to the top. He was ambitious and smart. He worked long days and nights, determined to step out of his father's shadow and make his own mark. The top executives in the company were impressed by his tenacity and were grooming him to rise quickly through the ranks. On weekends, he tried to spend as much time with Trudy as he could, but she was growing more and more distant.
One evening, sitting at his desk in the new home he'd purchased for him and his bride, Ted went through his monthly ritual of budgeting their bills and reconciling their joint bank account. He stopped when he came across something unusual on their bank statement—a two-hundred-fifty-dollar check to Boston Women's Clinic. Trudy's doctor practiced at Mass General, so he couldn't understand why she would've gone to the clinic. He began to wonder if she was sick, if that was why she'd been so moody, withdrawn, and distant.
She's sick and she's trying to keep it from me so I won't worry!
he thought. That night, he looked at his wife as she lay sleeping in bed. He wanted to wake her and ask her what was wrong. What was she hiding? He wanted to assure her that whatever it was, they could get through it together. But she was resting peacefully so he didn't disturb her.
The next morning, Trudy was still asleep when Ted headed out the door before the sun rose. He decided to leave work early that evening, bring dinner home, and talk about whatever health crisis his wife was facing.
But during dinner, Trudy barely touched the moo shu pork that Ted had lovingly laid out on their fine china, a wedding gift from his parents, despite his mother's strong reservations. They sat at the table in silence until Ted spoke up. “Trudy, I know there's something going on with you.”
“I'm fine,” she answered with irritation.
“No you're not. You quit the job you loved for no apparent reason. You've been moody and distant, and I can't remember the last time we made love.”
Silence . . .
“I know about your visit to Boston Women's Clinic,” he said.
That got Trudy's attention. She looked at him with an intense stare. “Oh, so now you know?” she responded in a chilly tone.
Ted wasn't sure what kind of game his wife was playing, but he didn't like it. He banged his fork against the intricate gold trim outlining his plate. “Trudy, whatever it is we can get through it together. I love you. If you're sick, we can get you treatment. Boston has some of the finest doctors in the country.”
For the first time in weeks Trudy laughed—uncontrollably!
“What's so funny?” Ted demanded. “Tell me what the hell's going on!”
Trudy halted her laughter and peered into Ted's eyes. “I'm not sick. I had an abortion.”
He sat in shock. Did his beautiful new wife just tell him that she was pregnant with their first child, and that she'd aborted it? He thought surely he must have heard her wrong. His head began to roar like a siren.
“You heard me. I killed it.” Trudy's voice was harsh and maniacal. “I need to clear up a few things for you, Ted. I didn't marry you because I love you, but I do love what we can have together. You're ambitious and smart, and I'm beautiful, witty and fun. Together, we make the perfect couple. It looks good for a corporate man on the rise to have an attractive young wife on his arm. I'm good for your image, and I know how important image is to you and your elitist family, it's your birthright. I'll help you as much as you'll help me,” Trudy said, rising from the table.
“In public, I'll play the dutiful wife and you'll be the adoring husband. We'll keep up appearances, and your career and squeaky clean reputation you hold so dear will stay intact. Take a close look into my background. You won't want the truth to come out,” she threatened. “You should be more careful about the girls you sweep off their feet.” Trudy walked past him and headed toward the bedroom before stopping midway. “And Ted, never forget . . . if you don't mess with me, I won't mess with you.”
Ted sat at the table, his heart and mind pounding like a late summer storm. Over the next few weeks he received shocking information from Bo Powers, the private investigator he'd hired to dig into Trudy's past. He discovered that she was really seven years older than she'd claimed to be, and that she had a criminal record of arrests for theft and prostitution. She'd gotten the job at the museum as part of an outreach program for ex-offenders.
Trudy threatened to expose her seedy past to Ted's family, friends, and business colleagues if he tried to leave her. She vowed to put a stain on his otherwise pristine reputation. She knew that Ted's weakness was his pride, and his desire to become a powerful man like his father. Her torrid past would surely cause rumblings, but above all, his pride and that of his family's couldn't take the ridicule.
“How can a company trust the judgment of a man who would marry a thief and a whore he'd only known for two months?” Trudy laughed during one of their heated arguments. “And won't your high society Beacon Hill family and friends be surprised to learn that your beautiful new wife used to turn tricks on the pier in Atlantic City?”
Ted felt numb. He wondered how he could've been so blind. He lamented over his poor judgment night after night, too ashamed and angry to confide in anyone. He resolved that he would not let Trudy be the ruin of his reputation or his career. He'd made a terrible mistake, and now he would have to live with it. He would have to recover.
That evening changed Ted's life forever. From that point forward he watched everyone and everything around him, holding his feelings close, and his heart even closer. As the years passed he'd thought about leaving Trudy several times, but decided to concentrate on his career instead. Over time he matured enough to put his pride aside, realizing that the damaging truth about his wife's tawdry past would be overlooked. But now, it was about the finances of his situation. It would cost him more to divorce Trudy because she would surely try to take half of everything he'd worked so hard for. He couldn't let that happen, so they lived separate lives.

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