Weeds in the Garden of Love (8 page)

As she turned off their street onto busy 16
^th
Avenue, Chrissie emptied a miniature of vodka into her orange juice. She merged into traffic and reached for the plastic juice bottle. The first sip did nothing. No warm feeling, no relief. She added another shot of vodka. A big swallow and her world was okay—once again. Chrissie finished her first double of the day before she arrived at Robbie’s playschool.

Meanwhile, Craig was convinced Chrissie had not had a drink that morning. He checked all the bottles he had marked and found no liquor missing. Another thorough search of the garage produced nothing.
She’s either more devious than I thought or she’s not hiding booze. Maybe Rita is mistaken. Maybe Chrissie is not an alcoholic.

Sometimes, our judgment is clouded by hope.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hunting

Chrissie was late that evening, later than normal. Craig called Towercrest, but the answering machine was on. He decided not to leave a message. The staff would hear it the next morning. He was worried about Chrissie. He wished she would either come home or call.

Rita had the evening off, so Craig ran the bath for the kids. He always liked to put the kids to bed even when Rita was working. He loved spending time with Robbie and Heather. He missed it on the evenings he had to work.

Robbie liked sports, riding his bike and spending time with his dad. Craig was teaching him about the world. Robbie knew how to throw and catch a baseball, ride a bike and fish for bass. They had wonderful times together. They did all the things a father and son should do.

Heather wanted to go everywhere with her older brother. Craig explained she was too young to follow Robbie and his friends on her tricycle, and she couldn’t reach the pedals on a Big Wheel. He also told her it’s a drag for a boy to have his little sister tagging along all the time. She listened, but Craig thought it went in one ear and out the other. He felt, at the same time he was explaining to her why she couldn’t do something, Heather was busy trying to figure out a way to do it. She had a mind of her own and learned her lessons the hard way. She needed lots of discipline, but Craig worried about being too strict. Heather loved her dad, and Craig loved his little girl. She was the apple of his eye.

After their bath, Craig read to Robbie and Heather. He gave them a choice of bedtime stories. They invariably picked the same one. Their favorite story was about a nice monster everyone was afraid of. A boy befriends the monster, and everyone lives happily ever after. Heather was always afraid at the beginning of the story. Robbie would say she was just being a baby.

Bedtimes spent with Heather and Robbie would be some of Craig’s favorite recollections after the divorce. These memories would sustain him through some long, lonely nights.

When the story was over, Craig sent Robbie off to his room while he tucked Heather into bed. She was so cute in her flannel p.j.’s. She smelled of gentle soap and baby shampoo. She had her mother’s brown eyes and thick hair. Heather had an effervescent laugh and a never-ending supply of love, which she gave away free of charge. Craig kissed her on the forehead. “G’night, Heather. Never forget—I love you.”

Heather wrapped her arms around his neck for a good night hug. “I love you too, Dad—lots and lots. Oh … and Dad … don’t forget to leave the hall light on and my door open a bit.”

“
Sure, honey, see you in the morning.” Heather was already drifting off to sleep.

Craig opened Robbie’s door. “G’night, Rob. See you in the morning.”

“
G’night, Dad. Hey Dad—ya know what?”

“
What?”

“
I love you.”

“
I love you too, big guy. G’night.”

Craig smiled as he went down the hallway. He cherished these times.
Those kids are
the best.
I’m a lucky dad. I wonder where their mother is.

* * *

Chrissie was on her way home. While stopped at a red light, she used breath spray, applied lipstick and fixed a stray strand of hair with her fingers. She caught a glimpse of her eyes in the rear view mirror. She looked away feeling guilty. Looking into the mirror again, she smiled and then noticed a new wrinkle.
I don’t remember seeing that before. Boy, d
oes
that make me feel old
.

Chrissie knew she was awfully late and hoped Craig wouldn’t be upset.
I should have called
,
but
I really didn’t have a chance.
He’ll understand. He knows this business. The client comes first.

In Chrissie’s mind, she had a perfectly legitimate excuse for working late. She and Eric Millard, one of the star realtors at Towercrest, had a late showing with some buyers who had flown in from Houston. Eric was an excellent realtor and mature beyond his years. He was a quick study and had a charming way with clients. He had the highest sales at Towercrest, two months out of the past six. He was destined to be their top salesperson in no time. This deal, however, was Chrissie’s. Eric was along for the ride.

Eric and his wife Vikki had been to Craig and Chrissie’s house on several occasions for Towercrest staff functions. They had been married for three years and had no children. The relationship between Chrissie and Eric was strictly businesslike. That suited Chrissie just fine. She believed sex had no place in a business relationship, at any time, for any reason. Eric respected her and had never shown any interest in pursuing a personal relationship. That all changed tonight.

Waiting for their clients’ flight to arrive, Chrissie and Eric waited in a bar on the arrivals level. They enjoyed spending time together. Chrissie had become his mentor, and Eric was her star pupil. They loved discussing business and real estate deals; past, present and future. But what Chrissie liked best about Eric was—he could match her drink for drink.
Eric will learn a lot tonight,
she thought.

Paul and Lauren Beaumont exited the baggage claim area and saw their names on the sign Eric was holding. After introductions, Chrissie asked if they wanted to eat before or after they saw the properties.

“
We had chicken parmesan on the flight.” Paul had a broad drawl and an even broader smile. “At least, that’s what the airline told us it was. Let’s look at some real estate.”

“
Great,” Chrissie said. “It’s best to see them in the daylight.”

Paul and Lauren were interested in purchasing investment properties. They liked the real estate in this area of the country because properties were priced below market value. Paul thought the area had amazing potential and was ready to boom. He was right. Many choice apartment buildings and townhouse complexes were on the market, and Towercrest had secured the listings. It was a perfect match, Chrissie’s listings and Paul’s money. And Paul had lots of it. He was in the oil and gas business—and business had been very good.

Chrissie quickly warmed to the Beaumont’s. She appreciated Lauren’s southern belle charm and Paul’s bottom line reasoning and acute business sense.
This guy knows exactly what he’s doing.
N
o wonder he’s a
jillionaire.

She was excited about this deal. The commission would be nice, but doing the deal was what she craved. She loved the hunt more than the kill.

Paul decided on a high-rise apartment building near Lewis Park. It was prime property, and his offer was right on the money. He had an eye for the right property in the right area, which came as no surprise to Chrissie. He also expressed an interest in the undeveloped land adjacent to the building.

Chrissie realized he was way ahead of her. She wondered what he was contemplating. Paul never said, and she was smart enough not to ask.
Paul Beaumont is one smart cookie.
H
e only wanted to see the so-so properties for market research. He knew exactly what he wanted to buy and where. It’s like he grew up here.

They had dinner at Leap, a trendy fusion bistro where Chrissie often entertained clients. The chef was well known for his innovative and exquisite cuisine. Tonight was no exception. Bottles of fine wine appeared at the table, as if by magic. The sommelier and his wine stewards never allowed Paul out of their sight. A wink from Paul and another bottle would appear. Needless to say, all were well lubricated by the time dessert and liqueurs were served.

Chrissie stopped at the waiter station to sign the bill to the Towercrest account. Their waiter informed her the bill had mysteriously disappeared. Her friend Philippe, the Maitre’d, happened by and advised all had been taken care of. Chrissie was certain Paul was responsible, and she appealed to Philippe to confirm it. He winked and put his index finger up to his lips. Paul laughed and would admit to nothing.

As Chrissie pulled up in front their hotel, the Beaumont's invited her and Eric to join them for a nightcap. Chrissie thanked them but declined, saying she really had to get home. Eric echoed her reply. Chrissie felt like she was saying good-bye to old friends. Paul and Lauren said they would be back in town often and looked forward to seeing them again. After handshakes and goodbyes, Chrissie was ready to drive Eric back to Towercrest to pick up his car.

“
You okay to drive, Chrissie?”

“
I’m fine.”

“
Good,” Eric said. “Because I’m not.” They laughed at that. Chrissie couldn’t remember having so much fun with anyone other than Craig. Eric had a great sense of humor. He was also charming, handsome and the perfect gentleman.

On the way, they discussed the Beaumont deal. Chrissie explained to Eric what would happen in the next few weeks, once the offer to purchase was accepted. Eric asked all the right questions. He wanted to learn the ins and outs of commercial real estate, as quickly as possible. He was looking to leave Towercrest, once he had learned all he could from Chrissie. Eric believed you get what you can and move on to something better. Loyalty is for losers.

Eric listened intently as Chrissie talked. She felt him staring at her mouth. He seemed enchanted by her voice. Normally, Chrissie liked the way Eric listened, but now he was making her uneasy.
He’s a handsome devil though,
she
thought.
H
e’s lucky I’m married, or I’d take a run at him. Oh yeah—like he’d be interested in an old broad like me.
Turns out he was.

They parked beside Eric’s car in the Towercrest lot. Chrissie was surprised when Eric leaned over from the passenger seat and put his left hand behind her neck. He turned her head and gently pulled her towards him. Chrissie offered no resistance. The evening, the deal and the wine all swirled in her head. She wanted him to kiss her. She needed passion—and she needed it now.

Eric’s kiss was passionate and urgent. He pulled her closer. His right hand cradled her jaw. He looked into her eyes before he kissed her again. Chrissie began a deep-throated purr and pressed her breast into his ribs. She felt his hand cup her other breast and then search for the buttons on her blouse. She felt the warm wetness between her legs and the excitement in her stomach. She wanted him. She ached for him. Suddenly, reality hit her. “Stop!” She pulled away from him. “Eric, please stop! I can’t!”

Eric was puzzled by her reluctance. “What’s wrong?”

“
I can’t do this  I’m sorry  I just can’t do this.”

“
Is it me?” He hoped the answer wasn’t yes.

“
Oh no, it’s not you, Eric. Honest—it’s me. I can’t do this to Craig. Not now  not ever. I’m married.”

“
I am too. But let’s face it, we are obviously attracted to each other.”

Chrissie stopped him. She explained she’d simply had too much to drink. She had no intention of ever having an affair. He apologized and asked her to forget this had ever happened. Chrissie said the incident was closed and would never be mentioned again. In her heart, she knew this evening had fatally damaged their ability to work together. It was only a matter of time. Eric left Towercrest a month later to work for another firm. She was glad.

Chrissie pulled into the garage. She checked her hair and the buttons on her blouse before she went into the house. Craig was in the kitchen putting some ice into a glass of diet pop.

“
Hi, sweetheart. Sorry I’m so late.” She talked fast, hoping to cover all the bases before he had a chance to say anything. “Closed a great deal for a big fat commission.”

Craig was livid. “Don’t you ‘hi sweetheart’ me! Where the hell were you? And you reek of booze! I can smell it from here! No bloody way you should be driving!”

“
We closed the deal over a drink.” Chrissie was calmly trying to diffuse the situation. “I was fine to drive. I should’ve called, Craigie. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“
I was worried about you.”

“
I know you were, baby,” Chrissie said. “I’m sorry.”

She kissed Craig. He tried to stay angry, but she knew how to manipulate him. His anger waned. She pressed her body against him in her way that said: “I want you.” And Craig wanted her. She was beautiful and sensuous. She still turned him on. They undressed on their way across the bedroom. The bathroom light cast a glow across the bed. Chrissie was beautiful lying naked with her black hair cascading over a white pillow.

Their lovemaking was violent, animal and more aggressive than ever before. Chrissie clawed at his back and whispered things in Craig’s ear that turned him into a wild man. He was lost in her. He tried things he had never thought of and positions that should have been impossible.