In Another Man’s Bed

by Francis Ray

  Brianna glanced up from removing the take-out containers of Chinese food. “A double bourbon.”

  “Lemonade.” Brianna wasn’t any more of a drinker than Justine. “I’ll get the glasses, and you can tell me what Patrick did.”

  “The man is a menace,” Brianna grumbled as she set several white cartons between the two plates. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was following me.”

  Frowning, Justine took the pitcher out of the refrigerator. “Are you serious or just annoyed?”

  Brianna made a face, then washed her hands at the double sink. “Annoyed.”

  Justine studied her agitated friend closely as she came to the table and they took their seats. “Men have been persistent where you’re concerned before, and you’ve brushed them off without a backward glance. Why is Patrick different?”

  “I don’t know; he just is.” Picking up the chopsticks, she filled Justine’s plate, then her own.

  Deciding not to comment on the amount of food on her plate, Justine picked up her chopsticks as well. “Is that an evasive answer, counselor?”

  Brianna’s hand paused, her head lifted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That of all the people I know, you are the most self-assured, self-aware person I know.” Justine picked up a bit of noodles. “So, is Patrick making you rethink your plan to stay clear of men?”

  Brianna scoffed, “I just met the man.”

  Justine’s chopsticks wavered. “The moment Andrew came into the bookstore looking for a Walter Mosley title, I knew.”

  Brianna’s chopsticks clattered on her plate. “Justine, I’m sorry. Here I am going on and on about me when you have so much to contend with.”

  “Don’t be. If I have to think about what’s going on in my own life all the time, I’ll go crazy.” Justine finally brought the food to her mouth. “Patrick is good looking and built.”

  “I prefer a brilliant mind and integrity.” Brianna picked up a box of rice and fried shrimp. “But a good set of pecs and a drop-dead face doesn’t hurt.”

  “Of course not,” Justine said, thinking of Dalton.

  The box plopped back on the oak table. “I was attracted by Jackson’s intelligence and, I thought, integrity. He didn’t have the former and his conduct shows he didn’t have the latter, either.”

  Justine took another bite. “We chose badly, but don’t take it out on Patrick.”

  “He butted into a conversation when I was having coffee with a client this morning.” Brianna told her everything. “I bet my car that he’ll be at the bingo tournament Thursday night.”

  “And if he does show?” Justine picked up her food without glancing down.

  “I’ll ignore him and consider getting a restraining order,” Brianna said, her eyes narrowed.

  “That seems excessive for a man just trying to get a date.”

  Brianna straightened. “Why are you so in favor of this guy? You don’t even know him.”

  Justine looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure, perhaps because he’s the first guy I know of that pushes your buttons. With Jackson and the other men you were always kind of blaseé.”

  Brianna opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

  “I rest my case.” Justine’s chopsticks clicked against the stoneware. Surprised, she glanced down at her empty plate, then at Brianna. “I ate the whole thing.”

  “Not yet, but we’re going to.” Brianna spooned more food on both their plates. “Now that we’ve discussed my love life, what about Dalton?”

  “Dalton?”

  Brianna rolled her eyes. “After everyone left the store, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

  “I’m married.” Justine busied herself with closing the open tops on the containers. She hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off him either. “Besides, he went back home this morning.”

  “The rat. He didn’t call to say good-bye,” Brianna said, but there was no heat in her voice.

  “He said to tell you good-bye.” For something else to do with her hands, Justine picked up the chopsticks and put a small portion of shrimp on her plate.

  “Did you want him to go?” Brianna asked softly.

  Justine glanced around the kitchen before meeting Brianna’s patient stare. “No, but it was for the best.”

  “You don’t deserve this.” The anger was back in Brianna’s voice.

  “No woman does.” Her appetite gone, she pushed the food around on her plate.

  “It cuts both ways.” Moving her plate aside, Brianna placed her elbows on the table. “Dalton’s been a free man for some time now.”

  Justine couldn’t help asking, “Do you know what happened?”

  “The scuttlebutt isn’t pleasant. I don’t like repeating any of it.” Standing, Brianna began picking up the cartons.

  Without knowing the full story, Justine was sure of one thing: It hadn’t been because Dalton had cheated. He had too much integrity.

  “He’ll tell you when he returns,” Brianna said.

  Surprised by Brianna’s prediction, Justine came to her feet as well. “What makes you think he’s coming back?”

  Brianna, reaching beneath the sink, paused. “What makes you think he’s not?”

  Justine’s unruly heart raced, then slowed as she remembered the other reason Dalton had for being in town besides the book signing. “I almost forgot. He has to see about his home place.”

  “That would be one motive.” Putting the containers in the two bags, Brianna put them in the trash beneath the sink and straightened. “But I wouldn’t bet that’s his only motive.”

  Justine didn’t like the way her heart had sped up again, how glad, then panicky she felt. “You’re wrong.”

  “Justine,” Brianna said, coming to her. “You’ve given up so much to keep Andrew’s adultery a secret. Don’t you think you’ve sacrificed enough?”

  “In my heart, the instant I saw that woman go into the bathroom, my marriage was over. Andrew’s illness hasn’t changed that.” Justine leaned against the counter and wrapped her arms around herself. “Dalton isn’t the first man to send out signals.”

  “But he’s the first man you’re answering back, and it scares you. You’re not the cheating kind.”

  “With Dalton, that could change. And you’re right. That scares me and makes me ashamed,” she whispered softly, voicing her fear.

  “Don’t you dare,” Brianna said fiercely. “You couldn’t have been a better wife to Andrew or a better daughter-in-law. If fate sends another man your way, grab him.”

  “But—”

  “Grab him,” she ordered, putting her face closer to Justine’s to stress her point.

  “Are you going to take the same advice?” Justine asked.

  Brianna’s shoulders snapped back. “Patrick means diddly squat to me.”

  “I meant men in general.”

  Brianna flushed. “Oh.”

  “We’re a pair. Letting what one man did rule us.” Justine shook her head. “I have always heard what’s fair for the goose is fair for the gander. If I promise to try and keep an open mind if Dalton comes back, will you try and do the same with Patrick?”

  “I’d rather drop him headfirst off the top of the condo.” Brianna’s eyes darkened.

  “Is that a yes?” Justine wasn’t backing down.

  Brianna wrinkled her nose. “That’s a maybe.”

  “Good enough.”

  The phone on the counter beside her rang. Justine glanced at her watch. 7:45. Her eyes shut tightly as she bowed her head.

  “Beverly?” Brianna asked.

  Justine’s head came up, her eyes slowly opened. “Yes. She’s calling for me to say good night to Andrew.”

  Brianna’s lips flattened. “How can she put—”

  “She’s his mother,” Justine interrupted. “This might take some time. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Just—”

  “Please.”

  “You’re one of the special ones. We’ll talk tom
orrow.” Brianna briefly hugged Justine, then she was gone.

  Swallowing, Justine picked up the phone. “Hello.”

  “Justine, I was worried that you weren’t there,” Beverly said.

  Wrapping one arm around her waist, Justine leaned against the counter. “I was just saying good night to Brianna.”

  “Good, now you can tell Andrew about your day since you had to leave this morning.”

  Justine thought she heard criticism in her mother-in-law’s voice. She was just tired enough to bite back. “I have to work, Beverly.”

  “I didn’t mean anything, dear. You know how much I love you. Haven’t I always been there for you?”

  Justine was instantly contrite. Beverly had been a wonderful mother-in-law. They were closer than Justine was to her own mother. “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s no need to apologize. I know how much you love Andrew. Now, I’m going to hold the phone to his ear. You don’t mind if I listen, too, do you?”

  What choice did she have? “No.”

  “You’re such a good wife.”

  A good wife wouldn’t have lustful thoughts about another man.

  “Here’s Andrew.”

  Shutting out thoughts of Dalton, Justine begin to talk about the day, the people who came by the bookstore, who asked about him, the ministerial luncheon, Marcus’s plans to restart the men’s seminars. She didn’t mention Dalton’s signing and wasn’t sure why.

  A draining twenty minutes later Beverly said a nurse was there to hang another bag of IV fluid and check his monitors. Relieved and trying not to feel horrible that she did, Justine hung up, then finished straightening the kitchen before reluctantly going to her room. She dreaded going to bed because she didn’t want to think of Andrew.

  But the moment she got under the covers and closed her eyes, images of Dalton appeared. She sat up in bed, not knowing if that was worse. Just as she threw back the covers to get up and find a book to read, the phone on the bedside table rang.

  She tensed and glanced at the ringing phone. It was half past nine. No one called her this late since Andrew’s accident, except his mother or the hospital. She didn’t want to answer it, didn’t want to check the caller ID. She couldn’t take any more. Not tonight.

  But neither could she ignore it. By the sixth ring the receiver was in her hand. “Hello.”

  “What do you think I should wear to make Patrick’s eyes pop?”

  Brianna. Her best friend was fond of giving advice but seldom asked for or accepted it. She was also loyal to a fault. “I’m fine.”

  “Sure you are, and you’re going to stay that way,” Brianna said. Justine could just imagine the furrowed brow, the narrowed gaze.

  “I’m certainly going to try.”

  “Don’t try. Do.”

  Justine almost smiled. “Yes ma’am.”

  “Sassy. It was your idea for me to give him a chance. I’m open for suggestions.”

  Justine scooted back against the ecru silk padded head-board. “You’ve never needed help picking out anything to wear.”

  “This is my first pickup date at the church. Ouch,” she laughed. “That didn’t come out right.”

  Justine reached down and pulled the covers up to her waist. “But apt. How about that white sundress you told me about. You can wear the jacket at church, then if Patrick is lucky enough to follow you home and walk you to your door, you can take the jacket off and leave him salivating.”

  “From the middle of the back to the shoulders the dress is completely out. I like the way you think. He won’t know what hit him. Maybe I should have thought of this before.”

  “You don’t play with people’s emotions,” Justine said softly.

  “Do you want to talk about the phone call?” Brianna’s voice turned serious.

  “No, and you have to go to work in the morning, so you need your sleep. You don’t have to baby-sit me. Good night.”

  “I’m not sleepy and neither work nor school nor our mothers’ dire warnings of consequences if we didn’t get off the phone has ever stopped us before. Remember the time we went to the Prince concert?”

  “You know, I do. Somehow Dalton got us tickets for the sold-out show.”

  “Not just tickets. Front row. He said he would if you’d go out with him.”

  “I insisted that you come.” Justine remembered shaking in her penny loafers at the time, thrilled and scared he was playing some type of joke on her.

  “We had a blast.” Brianna laughed out loud. “Dalton is a great guy.”

  “No argument here.” Just not the guy for her. “You never did mention where the bingo game was being held?”

  “Greater Emmanuel at seven. You want to come?”

  “I didn’t go back tonight for the last visiting hour. I have to tomorrow.”

  “What would happen if you didn’t?”

  “Sometimes I wonder, but not enough not to go. I’ve turned into a coward.”

  “I don’t want to ever hear you say that. You’re stronger than most. You just don’t like confrontations.”

  “That’s how Mama always had her way. Going against her wishes and opening the bookstore was the first and only time as an adult I’ve stood up to her.” There were none growing up. “I cried, but I never said a word when she sent me to Grandma Jenkins to get me away from Dalton.”

  “You succeeded beyond your expectations with the bookstore,” Brianna reminded her. “You like peace. I like shaking them up.”

  “That’s an understatement. Patrick better watch out.”

  “For real. Now, how about a movie Saturday afternoon? Saying no is not an option.”

  She hadn’t been to a movie in over a year. The bookstore and other obligations with Andrew kept her too busy. “I might surprise both of us and go.”

  “I’ll hold you to that and hang up before you change your mind. Night.”

  “Have fun. Night.” Justine placed the phone in the charger, turned off the light, and drew the covers over her shoulders. She drifted off to sleep with the melody of “Purple Rain” in her ear and the image of Dalton and her dancing.

  Eleven

  Justine woke with a smile on her lips. Before her lashes lifted, the reason came rushing back. Groaning, she shut her eyes, but that only intensified the forbidden image. “Brianna, you’re the cause of this,” she moaned, then rolled out of bed. Too many forbidden memories were there.

  In the shower, she mentally made out a schedule to pick up clothes from the dry cleaners, call the sales reps, check stock for an author event, and try to put a dent in her e-mail. She kept her mind busy while getting dressed in a lightweight magenta-colored suit. By the time she walked into the kitchen, the dream didn’t seem quite so vivid and erotic.

  One thing she told herself as she opened the refrigerator looking for apple juice was that she wasn’t going to beat herself up about it. She was a woman with normal desires.

  Retrieving the juice, she poured herself a glass, drinking it before she moved away. She was surprised to find that she was hungry. Replacing the juice, she checked the contents of the refrigerator. Foil-wrapped containers and plasticware—she wasn’t sure who they belonged to or what they contained—were on every shelf. Friends and associates had brought or delivered food almost every day until a few weeks ago, when she’d asked them not to. She felt guilty throwing away food with so many hungry people in the world.

  The phone on the counter rang. She pushed “talk” and went back to the open refrigerator. “Just you wait until I see you.”

  There was a slight pause. “Justine?”

  She gasped, coming upright and slamming the refrigerator’s door shut. “Marcus?”

  “I’m sorry if I caught you at a bad time,” he said.

  Thankful she hadn’t mentioned her dream, Justine tried to regroup. “I thought you were Brianna.”

  “Your friend?” he said, a smile in his voice. “I remember her.”

  Most men did. “How are you today, Marcus?”
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  “Fine. Grateful that you were able to help us. I just called to remind you of the meeting today.”

  Justine rubbed her temple. Having It All’s board meeting was scheduled for that afternoon. In a weak moment at the luncheon the other day she had said she’d attend.

  “You’ve done so much already. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  Once more she’d have to play the part of the loving wife. When would it end? “Is one all right?”

  “I’ll make it all right. I’m just holding the company for Andrew. He poured his life into this organization.”

  Justine wondered how many of them really knew the side of him that cheated and lied.

  “I’ll see you at one,” Marcus said.

  “Good-bye.” Justine hung up the phone. For one day she’d just like for everyone to forget she existed, but that wasn’t about to happen. She was no longer hungry. Grabbing her purse from the counter, she headed for the garage.

  Patrick knew some things were hard from the jump start. As a police office for eighteen years and the third son of a second-generation police officer, he was used to hard. His Cuban grandfather always said it made accomplishing your goal that much sweeter. Brianna was certainly putting his grandfather’s words to the test.

  Sitting at the elongated table with Harold Hinson, and three other women who had attached themselves to them as soon as they had walked through the door, Patrick could only hope the seat they’d saved between them would be put to use. He’d met Harold in the parking lot. He liked the older man.

  The three women certainly did. They openly flirted with him. Harold was enjoying every moment of it and grinning from ear to ear. His days of not finding a date were over.

  Patrick wished he could say the same. Without even holding Brianna, he knew she would fit perfectly in his arms. Their lips had yet to touch, but he knew Brianna’s would be sweet and seductive. But he might not ever get the chance to find—

  His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he spotted Brianna standing in the doorway of the church’s fellowship hall. His fingers clenched around the black marker in his hand.