Paper-Thin Walls

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  “It all came out today. Jason Patterson and Shannon Lowry were both fired … and I got the job!”

  “Really?” I yipped. “Oh honey, I’m so proud of you.” My arms came up and I threw them around him. “Then we have something to celebrate.”

  “Baby, you can celebrate my promotion, but I’m celebrating having you back home. I love you so much.” Ryan pulled me into his chest. It felt incredibly good to be in his arms, so I relished in his warmth.

  “We have a lot to be thankful for,” I agreed. We were back together. Ryan received a wonderful promotion. And I had miraculously survived a brutal attack. Yes indeed, we had a lot to be grateful for.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Hailey

  On Friday morning at ten o’clock, Sarah, Ms. Davis, Detective Sutton, Ryan and myself attended a small memorial in honor of Kenna Simpson. Detective Sutton sent a giant spray of flowers and insisted on splitting the funeral expenses with me, which I finally relented to.

  “That dude was overly attractive,” Ryan remarked as we walked back to our car. “Are you sure I don’t have anything to worry about?”

  I grabbed hold of his hand and yanked him up next to me. “Sorry bub, you’re stuck with me. I only have eyes for you.”

  He chuckled. “Good, that’s what I want to hear.”

  After the service, Ryan returned to work, as did I. Once the workday ended, I picked up both Adam and Jack from preschool. That night was to be Adam’s first ever sleepover. After the boys had cheese pizza for dinner, they were on the floor, between the two twin beds, playing puzzle games when I stuck my head in to check on them.

  “I did it, Mom,” Adam announced, looking more than pleased. He pointed at a puzzle he had just completed.

  Jack was working on his own. “I did it too,” he declared, pounding in his last piece and grinning up at me.

  “You guys are impressive. Those puzzles look hard to do.”

  “Not for us. We’re good,” Adam bragged.

  “Yeah, we’re good,” Jack agreed.

  That night, Ryan and I went to sleep hearing the distant giggles from two little boys. It was good to be back home. It was where I belonged, and I was looking forward to years of sharing my life with Ryan. Particularly, I was looking forward to tomorrow’s big date with my husband. As soon as I discovered that Ryan truly hadn’t cheated on me, Ryan and I had called our respective attorneys and requested for the divorce proceedings to be dismissed. This afternoon an order of nonsuit was signed by the judge, and it was as if the action had never been instigated. Tomorrow night’s date would be a fresh start for our relationship, which we both agreed to treat as a first date. It would be our new beginning.

  ***

  Everything on Saturday went routinely, but I felt myself getting excited as I dropped Jack back with his parents, and Adam off at my mom and dad’s house to spend another night with them. My dress had already been mentally chosen. The solid black, form-fitting number hit me slightly above the knees and had been hanging in the closet, just waiting to come out and play. It was a sexy number, but not smutty. The Terrace was a refined place and I needed to be high-class.

  As soon as I arrived home and collected everything I needed, I disappeared into our bathroom, leaving Ryan to get ready in the guest bath. After showering, working my hair into something on top of my head, and primping for over an hour, I shimmied into the dress and a pair of black stilettoes. Thankfully, my bruises were fading well enough that a heavier foundation and a few pieces of sparkling silver jewelry served as a great distraction. Following a careful inspection in the full-length mirror, I made sure Ryan wasn’t looking and sneaked into the spare bedroom and waited for him to come calling. It had been Ryan’s idea to treat the evening as if he were picking me up on our very first date. While I waited for his arrival, excitement surged through my veins. My upcoming date with Ryan had my nerves in a jittery tailspin.

  It was a long ten minutes before a knock sounded on the bedroom door. “Who is it?” I called out.

  “It’s me Ryan. I’m here for our date,” he played along.

  “Just a minute,” I responded, taking my time in getting to the door. “I’ll be right there.”

  The second I opened the door Ryan peeked at me from around a dozen red roses.

  “For me?” I crooned, taking the vase and sticking my nose in the soft velvety petals and inhaling the rosy aroma.

  His eyes swept all over me. Approval flooded his face the moment he caught sight of me. “You look amazing,” he muttered, slowly walking toward me until he was little more than a breath away. He removed the vase from my hands and placed it on a nearby dresser, keeping his eyes transfixed on mine. The scent of his woodsy aftershave teased my nostrils. Feeling like a teenager all over again, my heart thumped hard, and my knees wobbled.

  “You look pretty good yourself,” I told him, feeling my chest tighten at the sight of the handsome man before me. He was dressed in a dark brown suit, beige-colored tie, and an off-white shirt. The colors complimented his brown hair and brought out the brown in his eyes. He looked amazing and I couldn’t help but swoon.

  He moved a few steps closer until he stood beside me, his brown dress pants brushing against my soft black dress. “Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm.

  “Yes, let’s,” I said, hooking my arm with his.

  He walked me to my side of the car and opened the door for me. When we arrived at the Engineering Building and parked, he jumped from his seat and trotted around to my door, assisting me in disembarking. He clasped my hand on the elevator ride to the fortieth floor. And he held my chair out when I parked my rear. Once we’d made our menu selections, Ryan ordered for me. Then he held my hand across the table. I couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more romantic.

  The Terrace was the swankiest restaurant in town. It offered both indoor seating, as well as outdoor tables on the terrace. The preferred spots were, of course, on the terrace. But Ryan explained the exterior seating was booked for another month and so he had opted for the first available, which was indoors. It suited me fine because our indoor table was perfectly positioned against a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, giving us a magnificent view of the evening sun. As the flaming ball of fire settled in for a night, the city lights began to glisten against the dark waters from the Trinity River. A candle danced on a white linen clothed table and soft classical music played in the background. It was perfect.

  “This place is breathtaking,” I said approvingly, gazing out at the magnificent view.

  “I’m glad you approve,” Ryan replied, raising up and leaning across the table to tenderly kiss me. “I love you Hailey, so very much,” he avowed in a deep sexy voice that sent my heart thrumming.

  “I love you so much, too,” I returned, squeezing his hand as he shifted back in his chair.

  Over the Saturday night special of surf and turf, consisting of a petite filet mignon and a lobster tail, we reminisced over the first time we’d laid eyes on each other.

  “I knew you were the one the moment I saw you.” Ryan smiled at the remembrance. “You were reading my favorite book. How could I let you get away?”

  “I thought you were implementing a pick-up line on me, using To Kill a Mockingbird as a means to begin a conversation.”

  “Is that so? You should’ve grilled me on what the book was about.”

  “I assumed you’d simply watched the movie,” I said pointedly.

  He chuckled. “Well, I suppose that was a possibility, but considering I invited you to join me in a book club, I think that disproved your theory.”

  “Yes, it did. When I found out you were truly an enthusiastic reader, I was completely smitten.”

  “My dear, you were much too easy if that’s all it took,” he said with a teasing grin.

  I giggled. “Well, you were good looking, too. And as a bonus, you were into art.”

  “That’s right. On our first date I took you to the Kimbell Art Museum.” He smiled at me,
showing all his pretty teeth. “We really lucked out when we found each other.”

  I nodded. “Yes, we’re very compatible.” Thank goodness Ryan never gave up on us. He had been persistent in his determined, dead-set mind on getting us back together.

  In addition to reading and art, Ryan and I shared many of the same interests, including a love for architecture. We had taken several trips to Europe to admire the Old-World beauty and charm of the intricately detailed facades and ornate embellishments. And of course, Ryan was an architect and loved studying designs.

  We finished the evening with a shared dessert of the brownie extraordinaire, which had my tastebuds screaming with delight.

  “Thank you, Ryan. It was a wonderful dinner and I appreciate it very much,” I cooed to my wonderful husband.

  “My pleasure,” he responded, giving me another award-winning smile.

  The meal was scrumptious, though it undoubtedly came at the expense of an arm and a leg. When I tried to peek in the little black book hiding the damage, Ryan quickly snapped it shut, keeping me from seeing the ticket. “You’re more than worth it,” he boldly commented.

  We left The Terrace, strolling to the elevators, hand in hand. We considered a movie but opted to go home and do what we’d both been yearning to do all afternoon.

  We bounded up the stairs and down the hall into our bedroom as if we couldn’t wait another second. He peeled his jacket off and threw it across the arm of the corner chair. I kicked my heels off and sent them flying toward the closet.

  My gaze shot to his, admiring the man that was my husband. His eyes held mine for a moment or two. Then he crossed the room and grabbed me in a tight hug.

  “I’m yours Hailey. Don’t ever doubt me again. I will forever love you, until the end of time.” His eyes flared with desire and his voice was husky with need.

  “I know that now and I will never doubt you again. I love you, Ryan, forever and until the end of time.” I nuzzled into him, letting him feel my breath against the skin of his neck.

  He leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between us. I stood still, unable to move. A sigh escaped his breath when his lips found mine.

  Unable to get enough of each other, our kiss turned into a bonfire, igniting a deep need in us both. We pulled and tugged at each other’s clothing until we were standing nude before each other.

  As if we had previously been separated by an ocean, we pulled back the covers and crowded next to one another as we molded ourselves into one. The feel of Ryan’s heart thumped a little faster against my exposed breasts. He gripped me tighter as I buried my face into his chest.

  That night we took our time, making love to each other as if there was no tomorrow. It was just the two of us and nothing else mattered. Tender caresses and delicate touches developed into desperate hugs and strong holds as ecstasy multiplied and we both reached the point of no return.

  After a moment of absolute bliss, we collapsed into a heap beside each other and fell asleep with our arms tangled around the other.

  Epilogue

  Once Ryan received the promotion, he traveled less frequently. Even though he received a huge increase in his salary, I continued working at Harrington Oil & Gas. The job gave me independence and a sense of self-worth. Together, our accomplishments nurtured our relationship, helping us to grow stronger as a couple.

  Kenna Simpson, the neighbor I barely knew, continued to have a strong impact on my life. As did Bill. Not only did I regularly attend JUSTIFIED, the support group for people who had killed someone in self-defense, I became a reoccurring guest speaker for Healthy v. Angry Communications. This was a local organization who worked with women who were either currently in, or who had survived domestic abuse, narcissistic abuse, or a toxic relationship. Hopefully, by telling Kenna’s story, someone would be spared a violent death at the hands of their spouse.

  Though Kenna was gone, she was certainly not forgotten. And nine months later to the day after mine and Ryan’s date at The Terrace, we gave birth to a baby girl. We named her Kenna Marie Sinclair.

  ABUSE HOTLINE

  Abuse is never okay. If you or someone you know needs help, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE), or 1-800-787-3224. Your call will remain anonymous and confidential.

  Acknowledgement

  Thank you to all my wonderful friends and relatives for their kind words and on-going support. I’d especially like to thank Vickie Hopkins and Sabrina Baker, my dear friends since first and second grade, respectively, and to Kathy Cagle Sapp, my considerate neighbor, who have each provided much needed proofreading skills as well as thoughtful opinions on how to make this book a more enjoyable read. I’d also like to thank Mike LaChance for his wonderful assistance in helping me design the cover. He did an amazing job, and this might well be my favorite cover thus far. Another big thank you goes to my wonderful husband who has not only been helpful and supportive, but a wealth of encouragement. Finally, my biggest thank you goes to each of my readers. I appreciate your time and consideration and hope you will continue to support me in my future endeavors.

  About The Author

  Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  Melanie Jones Brownrigg received her BBA degree from Tarleton State University. At the same time, she owned and managed a Texaco station off I-20. After selling the business, she moved to Arlington, Texas, where she received her certificate as a paralegal and began working for several attorneys in various areas of the law. In 1989, she married Robert, one of the attorneys she was working for. They enjoy bowling, playing cards and antiquing. Melanie continues working as his legal assistant but hopes to write more books in the future. Please check back often as Melanie hopes you will follow her upcoming works.

  Thank you for taking the time to read Paper-Thin Walls. If you enjoyed this book, please leave her a kind review.

  If you are curious about Hailey’s new job and the upset within the company wherein a few employees ended up dead and Hailey’s boss, Paige Davis, was implicated, please read A Deadly Promotion.

  If you’d like to read more about the girl who listened through the hotel walls to see if her husband was cheating on her and then she was later accused of murder, please read The Hotel.

  Books By This Author

  The Hotel

  Emily and Greg had the picture-perfect marriage. At least Emily thought so, until she caught a glimpse of Greg’s co-counsel from a distance. Up until that point she assumed that Taylor was a man. Emily began to wonder if her husband might be cheating on her. Instead of working those long nights Greg was alluding to, where exactly had he been? And with whom? After following his vehicle to a seedy hotel, would she find the answers she was looking for, or end up in a deeper quandary than she could have ever imagined?

  The House Across The Street

  Rachel Anderson was at her busiest time of the year. As a CPA and April 15th rapidly approaching, she was down to crunch time and didn’t need her two best friends trying to talk her into getting back together with her estranged husband. Her refusal was based on things she knew about him. Things she couldn’t dare tell anyone. And with two gag orders in place, she was legally bound to keep her mouth closed. While her divorce lingered on, the last thing she suspected was to learn there might be a murderer, or two, living across the street from her. But when she opened her door to a stranger, would she find her future, or would she end up running for her life?

  A Deadly Promotion

  Who doesn’t want a big promotion? But would it be as appealing if you knew it might come at the cost of your life? When Julie Mitchell ends up dead at the bottom of a flight of stairs, and Paige Davis finds her own head bashed in, Paige begins to wonder if climbing the corporate ladder is all that it’s cracked up to be. To make matters worse, Paige ends up being accused of Julie’s murder when the recordings show she and Julie were the only ones going into the stairwell. But when Paige sets out to clear her name, she only finds evidence that points the finger deep
er at herself. Will she find out who’s to blame, or will she find herself at the mercy of a killer?

  The Perfect-Perfect Plan

  It was an accident, the sun was in my eyes, the motorist claimed after hitting Hannah Williams while she was bicycling. Was that true, or perhaps something far more sinister was going on? Maybe it was too convenient when a handsome doctor just happened to arrive on the scene. Whose intentions are pure of heart? Does the finger point solely to the motorist? Or is it possible the good doctor and the motorist are scheming together in a joint endeavor? Will Hannah find out in time to save her life? Or will she end up dead?