The Barnes Family Romances: (Books 1-3)

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The Barnes Family Romances: (Books 1-3) Page 45

by Normandie Alleman


  I could see now why Eduardo must have wanted a wife so desperately. The man had a huge sexual appetite and a cock just as large. Even when we argued, we always found a way to come together in bed at night before we went to sleep.

  There was something so intimate and rich about our sexual relationship that I almost wondered if I bickered with him during the day to keep a little distance between us. I wasn’t used to the kind of intimacy we shared in each other’s arms.

  Tonight I was making beef Wellington—succulent beef hopefully cooked to perfection in a puff pastry along with a vegetable.

  As I put the food in the open, I heard Eduardo’s key in the door.

  He walked in looking haggard, but smiled when he saw me.

  “You’re home! How was your day?” My enthusiasm was sincere. I had genuinely come to look forward to seeing him in the evenings. Even if we did sometimes fuss at each other.

  “Long.” He set his briefcase down and collapsed in his favorite chair. For some reason I thought it was completely adorable that he had a favorite chair. It was blue and on the ugly side. But he loved it, and that was what mattered. My comfy old bathrobe wasn’t exactly stylish.

  “I’m sorry. Can I get you something to drink? I’m making dinner now.”

  His eyes lit up. This was only the second time I cooked dinner since we got married so it was more of a treat than an everyday occurrence. I envisioned a time when I would cook more frequently. I did love being in the kitchen, but these days I was so busy trying to get the bakery going that by the end of the day I usually didn’t have much energy left.

  “A drink would be great, thanks. What’s for dinner?”

  “Coming up.” I headed into the kitchen to get a beer out of the refrigerator, calling over my shoulder, “Beef Wellington and asparagus with hollandaise sauce.”

  When I came back into the room and handed him a beer he said, “Thanks. That sounds delicious. I feel like you spoiled me with a fancy meal like that. But please do.”

  I laughed. “Well it’s the least I can do for you. The way you spoil me,” I said pointedly.

  He gave me a knowing grin and his mood had already improved, and I congratulated myself on that. In moments like these I felt like we had the potential to be the happiest married couple in the world. I pictured us celebrating our fiftieth wedding anniversary, surrounded by a dozen grandchildren.

  I sat down next to him. “You said it was a long day. Dare I ask?”

  “It’s no big deal. Just some trouble with a few disgruntled vestry members who don’t like anybody else having more power than they do so they like to make my life miserable.”

  “Ugh, I hate that. That’s one of the reasons why I am so looking forward to working for myself, not having to deal with crappy coworkers.”

  He nodded. “I hear that, but then you may have to deal with difficult employees. And then Kay’s husband George checked himself into rehab which is great because we want him to get help for his substance abuse. The AA meetings don’t seem to be doing the trick, but it does make it harder for her to get childcare because he helped pay for it. So, her mother is going to have to come in from Lake Charles to be able to take care of the twins while she’s at work.”

  “So, he was taking care of the kids?”

  “No, but he worked construction, and if he’s not working she doesn’t have enough money to send them to daycare.”

  “Got it. Well let’s hope once he gets the help he needs everything will start to improve for them. It seems like she loves him a lot.”

  Eduardo nodded. “She must. I’m not sure I would be as patient as she has been.”

  “I’ll remember that before I become an alcoholic,” I teased.

  He placed a hand on my knee. “I think if you were going to become an alcoholic, you would’ve already done it, honey.”

  I liked that—the casual way he connected with me through touch. The way he called me honey so casually like we had been together for years.

  “You’re probably right. I’ll be back in a bit. I need to go start the vegetables. Be back in a few.”

  As I went into the kitchen, he reached for the TV remote, turning on a sports channel.

  I busied myself preparing hollandaise sauce atop the stove and steamed the asparagus. While everything cooked, I set a pretty table with some of the new dishes and flatware we’d gotten as wedding gifts, and I added some cloth napkins.

  A half hour later, we sat down to dinner. Eduardo took my hands in his and blessed our food. It was something he always did and I was beginning to appreciate the custom. It was just one more way that I felt connected, not only to him, but also to a higher power. I might not be ready to go evangelizing yet, but I was adjusting to the religious rituals that made up my new life. This Sunday I even planned to go to church.

  Baby steps.

  Near the end of our meal I asked, “Anything good on the sports channel?”

  He shook his head.

  “Anything about Nick or the Fever?”

  He grinned. “Careful. It sounds like you might be becoming a fan.”

  “Of course I’m a fan. He’s my brother-in-law, right?”

  Eduardo nodded. “I guess he is. That seems really weird though.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “And speaking of the Barnes family, I had an unusual visit today.”

  Eduardo gave me a funny look. “Where?”

  “At the bakery.”

  “I thought that’s where you were all day, but who was your visitor?”

  “Lucinda.”

  Eduardo made a growling noise.

  That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. “What’s wrong?”

  “That woman! She’s infuriating.”

  “Just because she came to visit me? That bothers you that much?”

  His hand resting on the table balled into a fist. “She’s so intrusive. So manipulative and controlling. I don’t need that in my life. We don’t need that.”

  “Okay.” I hadn’t expected him to get this upset before I even told him about her offer. Now I dreaded telling. At the same time, I knew if I was going to attempt to create a TV show with Lucinda, I had to tell him about it.

  Steeling myself for his response, I just blurted it out. “She made me an offer I’m not sure I can refuse.” I paraphrased the famous mafia movie in hopes of lightening the tone of the conversation.

  “Oh, I’ll just bet she did. What are you talking about?”

  I gulped. His anger seemed highly exaggerated for the situation.

  “She offered to make a TV show with me.”

  Setting his elbows on the table he dropped his face in his hands. “She what? What kind of TV show?”

  “A cooking one probably. She said we could talk to her developmental programming guy and see what he came up with. But Eduardo, she’s talking about paying me three hundred thousand dollars just for the first season. She said that if the networks pick it up for a few seasons we can make millions.”

  He stared at me. “You know what she’s doing don’t you?”

  “Trying to help me.”

  “No. She’s trying to get to me through you.”

  I shrank back in my chair. “Thanks a lot.”

  Couldn’t he even entertain the possibility that maybe I was talented enough to be worthy of a TV show?

  “Come on, Chloe, has she ever tasted anything you’ve ever made?”

  “No,” I admitted quietly.

  He threw his napkin on the table. “See? She has no idea if you can cook your way out of a paper bag, but she’s willing to pay you three hundred grand to be on her TV show. You don’t find that a little suspicious?”

  For the second time that day I felt my heart sink. “Well you know, I am a good cook. In fact, you’ve told me that yourself. Maybe she trusts your judgment, and maybe all I really need is a chance to prove myself. Sure, I might fail, but I could just as easily become a success. Don’t you understand, Eduardo, this could open up a whole world for me?


  “What are you talking about?”

  “TV chefs. They can open their own restaurants, sell products. Once you have a name, you can write your own ticket. I can’t believe you’re suggesting I say no to this once in a lifetime opportunity because you don’t like Lucinda!”

  “Chloe, it has nothing to do with me not liking Lucinda. It has to do with me wanting to protect you from a predatory person. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “You know, Bishop, I have been used by people most of my life, particularly in how I’d had to earn a living and never once during that time did anyone offer to pay me that kind of money. So you can just keep your pride and your suspicions and I will do what I need to do to further my career.” I stood up and started to clear the dishes.

  “So, you’re spending all this money renovating this bakery and you’re going to what . . . run off to LA to be a TV star?”

  I snatched up his plate and stormed out of the room, yelling, “Maybe I am!”

  Dishes clattered in the sink as I tried washing them off. How dare he expect me to pass up an opportunity like that simply because he has some sort of issue with his long-lost family? From what I could tell they’d never done anything to him. At least the ones that were alive.

  When I walked through the living room towards the bedroom he sat in the same chair watching the same sports show. He didn’t look up when I passed by.

  Fine, I thought as I closed the bedroom door behind me.

  I took a shower and got ready for bed. By that time I’d cooled down and I kept hoping that Eduardo would come through the door and we could make up. I wanted to get back to the newlywed-like nights we’d been sharing.

  But I waited and waited, and he never came. Finally, I picked up a book and read until I fell asleep. When I woke up in the middle of the night the blue numbers on the clock telling me it was 3:50 a.m., I noticed he still was not next to me. I could’ve gone in the other room and gotten him off the couch, but a stubborn streak inside me wouldn’t budge. Instead, I flipped off the light and fell back asleep alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Eduardo

  The next morning I was in a terrible mood when I stormed into the office. Kay wasn’t there, and I was ready to throw something at somebody. During the short period of time I’d been married, I’d grown accustomed to having my wife’s warm body and attention every night, and I was beyond irritated that my new evil stepmother had somehow weaseled her way between me and Chloe.

  Somehow I was going to have to get that woman out of my life.

  I understood more every day what Nick meant when he complained about his mother. The woman was a menace. She would stop at nothing to interfere with not only her own children’s lives, but also her dead husband’s children’s lives. And I was going to be the one looking like a selfish jackass if I didn’t support Chloe with this ridiculous TV show.

  But how could I possibly be thrilled for my wife to leave her new project, the one I’m funding, to fly off to Los Angeles to chase some pipedream Lucinda dangled in front of her. The only reason that woman offered a show to Chloe was to get to me. What she really wanted was for me to say yes to the church show she pitched me.

  Lucinda could do whatever she wanted, but that was not about to happen.

  I slammed the door to my office behind me. The loud noise got my attention, and I realized my behavior was not that befitting a bishop in the Episcopal Church.

  Taking a deep breath, I left my office and went into the chapel and prayed. I asked the Lord for guidance and to grant me the wisdom and the patience to make good decisions.

  Prayer usually helped center me, but today I couldn’t seem to shake the foul mood I was in.

  I picked up my phone and called Kay. She didn’t answer, so I left a message. “Where are you? You can’t just not show up. If you’re not going to be here you need to send me a message. Thanks.”

  I was going through an expense report when Crawford Banks walked through my door without so much as knocking.

  Hello, Crawford,” I said, wishing again for the four hundredth time today that Kay was at her desk. “What can I do for you?”

  “It’s what I can do for you,” Crawford said smugly as he helped himself to a seat across for me.

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Then let me make it a little more clear to you. We can either go the formal route where the vestry and I file a formal complaint against you with the diocese or you can take a tidy settlement offer and resign, saving everyone the embarrassment of a scandal in the church. I’m sure you don’t want us to get the kind of reputation our Catholic brothers have, do you?”

  “Of course I don’t, but what is it that you think I’ve done that you need me to resign over?” I asked, my pulse quickening.

  “According to our forensic accountants and investigators you have been using church funds for personal expenses.”

  “Like what?”

  “It seems as though you have charged several meals to the church fund as well as several magazine subscriptions. You must realize that you are paid and these are personal expenses not work related ones.”

  “What magazine are you talking about? What meals?” I tried to run through the list of magazines I even subscribed to in my head. I had a Sports Illustrated subscription but I was almost positive I had that before I even came to the church and surely I didn’t use the church funds for that. There were a couple of tech magazines that I had used—Wired being one of them and Fast Company because I was interested in following along with the latest social media as we tried to update and keep the church up to speed with what was happening in the world. Those could be the ones he’s talking about, but they weren’t for my personal use. They were for church related business.

  And meals? If I had ever used the wrong card to pay for a meal that was a possibility. I was human. I could make mistakes, but there were also times where I was probably justified in charging the church for my meals. Like when I was traveling and things like that.

  “I’d like to see a list of the accusations you’re making because I feel like there’s probably a good explanation for everything you’re suggesting.”

  Crawford leaned forward in his chair his hands on his knees. “Look, Soto, we don’t want you here anymore, and you can either leave under friendly terms or it can get ugly. It’s up to you.”

  I threw my hands up. “Crawford, I have to disagree with you. You have no proof of wrongdoing on my part. I’m innocent, and have no intention of stepping down.”

  “Really? Because I have the votes and no one is real happy to have their bishop cavorting with a stripper. That is just so bad I don’t even know where to begin. And now we’re hearing that you are related to that awful Barnes family? This parish doesn’t need any more scandal, thank you.”

  His bringing Chloe into this brought my blood to a boil. t took all the self-control I could muster not to fly across the desk and throttle the man. “You leave my wife out of this. She is a former dancer and there is nothing wrong with that. Neither she nor I have done anything wrong. As for the Barneses, the only connection there is genetic. They are not close relatives and they have no bearing on my position in this church. Now I would like you to leave my office. And don’t come back until you have proof of some wrongdoing on my part,” I snarled.

  “So, you want to play it that way, do you? Fine. You want to fight this one out we can. But I can promise you it’s not going to be you who comes out on top, buddy.” With that, Crawford huffed and puffed his way out the door.

  As soon as it shut behind him, I was tempted to lock the damn thing and do some relaxation exercises.

  Instead, I took a few deep breaths and picked up the phone to call my lawyer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Chloe

  It took a few days for Eduardo to get over being mad at me. The night after I told him about Lucinda’s offer of a show, he did come back and sleep in our bed, but the intimacy betwe
en us took a hiatus. He was quiet and preoccupied.

  We were starting to feel like roommates.

  I wished he would come around and try to understand why I had to take Lucinda up on her offer, but he had his opinions, and I wasn’t sure how to persuade him. So, I started making my own plans and hoping he would get on board eventually.

  It was a Wednesday, and I was running around our cottage packing. I was scheduled to leave for Los Angeles the following day. Eduardo knew about this, but he didn’t act like he wanted to talk about it.

  When he came home from work, he looked even more distracted.

  “Hey,” I reached out and touched his arm as he sat on the couch. “Are you okay?”

  He crossed his arms across his chest. “Fine. I’m fine. Why?”

  I perched next to him. “You don’t look fine. You look like something’s bothering you.”

  He shrugged. “There’s a lot of stuff going on at work.”

  “Like what?” Eduardo didn’t really talk about his work at the church that often. I mostly heard about the boys playing basketball or the theology behind various things. It was clear he enjoyed his work as a priest, but sometimes it felt like there was a distance between him and his congregation, and I sensed a sadness from him regarding the church. But none of that came from anything Eduardo had said to me, so I could have been imagining it. It was just a feeling I had.

  “Nothing for you to worry about. Anyway, you’re about to start your new life in Los Angeles.”

  “I wouldn’t call it a life Eduardo. We’re just shooting a pilot. It could come to nothing.”

  He eyed me skeptically. “We both know better than that. With Lucinda at the helm, this show will happen if she wants it to.”

  “Well I hope so. Anyway, I’ll be back. It’s not like I’m going to LA permanently.”

  “What are you going to do about the bakery while you’re gone?”

  “I’ve hired a guy to check in on the construction and keep me updated. His name is Peter. You know, he’s the guy I was going to hire to work the front counter when we opened?”

 

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