by Dara Girard
Brenda parked her car and rushed inside. She threw her coat on the couch, then went to her patio, ripping the carton open as she stepped out in the still night. She could feel her tension ease as she sniffed the box. Heaven was just a match away. A match. She paused. She’d forgotten to buy matches. She checked her kitchen drawers hoping for a miracle—nothing. Then she looked at the stove. That would have to do.
She reached to turn it on when the phone rang. Brenda hesitated, then answered. “Hello?”
“I didn’t win the award,” Madeline said.
Brenda imagined her friend lounging in her lavishly furnished living room. “That’s okay. There will be others.”
“Not as many as you’d think.”
Brenda frowned. It wasn’t like Madeline to sound depressed. “You can try again next year.”
“I saw that Fink won the NSR grant.”
Brenda laughed remembering their nickname for Franklin. “Yes.”
“And Dominic is donating to—”
“Yes, yes,” Brenda interrupted. She didn’t need yet another reminder of what her ex-husband was up to.
“Remember how we all started out basically the same and look at us now.”
Brenda didn’t like the direction the conversation was going. “We’re all successful.”
“Some more than most,” Madeline said without interest. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ve made a mistake with my life.”
“Not at all. You are a well respected scientist, you’re published and—”
“But is that enough?”
Brenda rested against the counter. “Madeline, is something wrong?”
“No, I was just calling to see how you were doing with the news about Franklin.”
Brenda didn’t believe her. “I really am sorry about you not getting that award. I didn’t get one either.”
“So we’re both finished,” Madeline said gravely.
“No, we’ll think of something. Would you like to go out for dinner tomorrow evening?”
“Sure.”
Brenda sighed, relieved that Madeline sounded more upbeat. Madeline was more than her best friend, she was her mentor. She was a very attractive woman, with a dark cocoa complexion, impeccably styled shoulder-length hair and a fantastic figure. Food and friends—that’s all she needed, Brenda thought. And Brenda could use the company. They could talk about their projects, complain about Franklin, laugh, have a few drinks and then everything would be fine. “Great. I’ll call you then.”
“Right.”
Brenda hung up, then stared at the framed photo taken years ago when Madeline won the International Academy of Natural Science Award. She was only a couple years older than Brenda, but was everything Brenda aspired to be—devoted, dedicated and driven.
Brenda hoped that one day she would accomplish half of what Madeline had done. Madeline had been a prodigy, completing her undergraduate degree in two and half years, and her doctorate in three years. She was a beautiful woman, who hadn’t let romance or marriage deter her from her professional aspirations. Brenda smiled, feeling a little better and put the cigarette away. She looked forward to tomorrow; it would make up for today.
“You need a new water heater,” her neighbor Lincoln Darnell said as he came up from the basement the next day. She’d called him right after work hoping for better news.
“You can’t fix it?”
“Nope.” He folded his arms, covering the Seattle Seahawks sweatshirt he liked to wear.
She cringed. “It’s going to be expensive, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so, but if you want hot water…”
Brenda groaned as she walked with him outside. “Yes, I’ll get back to you. Thanks for stopping by.”
“No problem. My son got a B on his science project thanks to you.”
“He’s fun to work with.”
Lincoln nodded, waved goodbye and left. Brenda checked her mailbox, then went back inside. She dropped the large bundle on the table, then dialed Madeline’s number. She hadn’t been able to reach her all day and couldn’t reach her now. She hung up the phone, pushing away her concern. Madeline probably had a busy day. She always got back to her; she didn’t need to pester her with messages.
Brenda grabbed her mail and sat down at her desk to sort through it. Junk, junk, junk. As each item left her hand it fell into the wastebasket beside her. Then one piece caught her attention. She opened it. It was a handwritten note, on expensive parchment paper, lined with finely woven lace in a gold-lined envelope. It was addressed to Brenda Katherine Everton. Perhaps it was Sonya’s wedding invitation, although Sonya had no way of knowing her full name.
She shrugged, then she began to read it, curious.
You have been personally selected to join The Black Stockings Society, an elite, members-only club that will change your life and help you find the man of your dreams. Guaranteed.
Brenda frowned, flipping the invitation over, confused. What was it? She continued reading.
Dumped? Bored? Tired of Being Single? Ready to live dangerously? Then this is the club for you. Guaranteed Results! Submit your application today.
Nonsense. She noticed the nominal fee and specific instructions that she had to submit the application within seven days or she’d lose the opportunity of a lifetime.
Ridiculous. She didn’t need this kind of distraction. Someone probably sent it to her as a joke. She had enough to think about and didn’t need any pressure to join some stupid society. She tossed the invitation in the wastebasket along with all the other junk.
Brenda ended up eating another TV dinner that evening. Madeline never returned her call. It didn’t bother her, she figured Madeline had forgotten. It wasn’t unlike her friend to forget appointments, especially if she was trying to solve a problem or was busy with a project. That night Brenda went to bed thinking of one thing: how to solve her cash flow crisis.
She woke up to a male’s voice in her bedroom. It was low, smooth like melted butter on warm biscuits, beautiful and familiar, with an amusing Canadian accent.
Dominic. Her eyes flew open. Her gaze darted around the room, then she realized she was alone, but the voice was still there. She turned to the radio. His voice came toward her as though he were beside her. He was being interviewed on one of the early morning radio shows she loved to listen to.
Brenda slammed the alarm off. It had been a long time since she had woken up to his voice and she didn’t need to be reminded of how nice it was to hear. She spent that morning boiling several pots of water, to wash her face and hair, which was in desperate need of a good shampoo. She decided to skip blow drying and put her hair in two large braids instead. It was the weekend and she didn’t have to worry about anyone important seeing her, not that she was ever interested in making a fashion statement.
Brenda went outside and retrieved her morning paper, before having her morning coffee and a large banana nut muffin. She only received the daily newspaper on weekends, because she was usually too busy to read it during the week. She sat down at her kitchen table and opened the paper. She nearly choked when she saw the headline: Renowned scientist Dr. Madeline Cartwright found dead from apparent suicide.
Rain wasn’t unusual in Seattle, so no one let it bother them as they stood around the grave site under a canopy, trying not to get wet. Brenda looked around and was surprised by the small crowd. Madeline had known so many people. Had her life diminished to this? All the faces were a blur. Brenda usually paid attention to detail but this time she couldn’t. The coffin loomed large in her mind. This couldn’t be real. Madeline was only forty-two. She had so much more to do. Why had it ended this way?
Brenda wondered if she should have gone over to Madeline’s house the last time they spoke. Was she reaching out; did Brenda not hear her cry? She had thought she was her friend. Why hadn’t she called her? Damn, damn, damn.
The brief grave site service came to a close. One moment the coffin was there, then it was in the ground. All Brenda re
membered was the sound of dirt hitting the coffin. Madeline was gone.
Brenda walked slowly back to her car. She paused when she saw a tall, striking dark figure ahead. It was Dominic. She jumped into her car in case he turned around and saw her. She needn’t have worried; he was busy consoling Madeline’s mother who had cried uncontrollably throughout.
What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be traveling or on some radio show? How could he have remembered Madeline?
Brenda started her car and drove to Madeline’s parents’ house to express her condolence. Once there she was surprised to find a larger group gathered. She overheard several individuals say that they couldn’t bear seeing Madeline in a coffin or watching her being lowered into the ground and had decided not to go to the viewing or grave site. Brenda spoke to several of Madeline’s business friends, then approached her sister, Dana. “I’m so sorry.”
“I can hardly believe that it’s real. I didn’t sense anything,” Dana said, her face reflecting the shock and pain she felt.
Brenda nodded, feeling her wave of guilt resurfacing. She shouldn’t have waited for the next day. She should have gone over to see her. Perhaps she could have—
“She wanted you to have this.” Dana handed Brenda a small white envelope. She put it in her handbag, stuffing it in-between her carton of cigarettes and wallet. Suddenly, she heard his voice and footsteps. Dominic rarely entered a room quietly and once inside one couldn’t help but stare at him. He was as magnificent as a mountain and just as majestic, but his movements were not refined and people easily made the assumption that he came from the backwoods of Canada instead of one its prestigious cities. Brenda knew it was all an act that he used to mislead people to give himself the advantage. When he wanted to, he could move with the noiseless steps of a fox hunting its prey or act as cultured as a prince.
His biography said he’d immigrated to America at fifteen. The truth was that he’d run away to live with an aunt.
Brenda knew she had to disappear before he saw her. She couldn’t handle talking to him now. When they had been together they were either fighting or making love. He was the one person who could make her lose her cool. She couldn’t afford to, not here. Brenda darted into the next room where the buffet table stood. She lifted a plate, knowing she couldn’t eat anything, but needing something to do.
She set the plate down when she heard familiar footsteps come closer. She silently swore. Of course he’d head to the buffet table. The man could eat it clean, although his muscular physique gave no indication of that. There wasn’t an inch of fat on him; he was as solid as marble. She disappeared behind a large palm and watched Dominic and Franklin enter. Neither man appeared to notice the other. Franklin’s presence didn’t surprise her. He would want to be there to console Madeline’s family in case there were photographers. She lost sight of Dominic but saw Franklin talking to Madeline’s mother and father. At that moment, she wished Madeline was there so the two of them could laugh at him. He was always a comical character to watch, because he thought he was more important than he was, and it showed.
“Are you hiding from me?” a deep voice said behind her.
Chapter 3
Brenda froze, hoping that when she turned it wouldn’t be who she thought. She slowly spun around and looked up. Dominic was one of the few men she had to look up to. He topped six-four and was the one man who didn’t make her feel anything less than a woman. When she was with him all of her feminine instincts became alert.
From their first meeting she’d responded to his sheer male energy. It wasn’t just that he was large, but that he was stronger than her, and his piercing eyes, every bit the scientist’s—calculating and assessing—may have intimidated another woman, but always made her skin tingle with anticipation. With his smooth brown skin, shaved head and black goatee, all he needed was a black eye patch and a dark cape to look like an avenging outlaw, ready to relieve you of anything you treasured. He had the charm of a rogue, the eyes of a seducer and a smile that could persuade a woman to say “yes” when she meant the opposite. He had an irresistible magnetism.
Brenda shook away the sensation annoyed with herself. It was these kind of thoughts and unchecked feelings that had gotten her in trouble in the first place. Yes, he was big and strong and brilliant and sexy, but he was just a man and she knew how to handle men.
“Why would I want to do that?” she asked.
He lifted a brow. “Exactly.”
“I didn’t expect you to be here.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking sad. She knew he was. He was never insincere. “God, I wish I wasn’t. I can’t believe this.”
“Me neither.”
“I respected her. More than that, I liked her. She was a great woman and a brilliant scientist.”
Brenda nodded, grateful for the neutral topic. “Yes, it’s such a waste. All of the ideas she had, all the things she could have accomplished.”
“All the things she could have experienced.”
“What?”
“You’re just thinking of her as a scientist. Unfortunately, I think that’s the only way she saw herself too. As her mother told me, losing the award devastated her. You can’t confuse your profession with who you are.”
“Is that a lecture, Dr. Ayers? Don’t worry, we didn’t consider ourselves asexual robots. The day she died we had planned to go out for dinner and complain about men.” Brenda tried to make light of it, but his assessing gaze didn’t waver. She sighed; getting him off a topic had always been difficult.
Dominic took her hand. The shock of his large, warm fingers encasing hers nearly paralyzed her. “Honey, I’m sorry.”
Her voice shook. “Dominic, if you want me to burst into tears you’ll succeed if you look at me like that any longer.”
“I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”
Brenda tried to tug her hand free. “Yes, I know.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
He tightened his grip, not enough to hurt her, but enough to stop her from struggling. “If you ever need to talk about this, call me.”
“I’m fine really. Thanks.”
Madeline’s mother approached them. “It’s so good for you both to come together. Madeline had always hoped you two would reconcile.”
Brenda widened her eyes, surprised. “But we’re not—” Dominic rested his arm on her shoulders.
“I’m amazed at how grief can bring people together. I’d always hoped that she would learn from you, Brenda, and have something else in her life besides work,” Madeline’s mother said, her eyes red and swollen with grief.
“But her work was revolutionary,” Brenda said, not wanting her friend’s lifework to be lost in the sadness of her passing.
“And it killed her,” her mother replied bitterly then turned and walked away.
“She’s wrong,” Brenda said annoyed. “Her work didn’t kill her, she just…” Brenda shook her head, not able to come up with a good explanation. She glanced at his arm on her shoulders and tried to shrug it way. When she couldn’t she said, “What is this for?”
“The thought of us together made her happy. Why tell her the truth now? She’s already suffering enough.” He placed his hand on the back of her neck and began gently rubbing it.
“What are you doing?” she said through clenched teeth, trying not to enjoy the sensation.
“You know what I’m doing. You’re tense.”
Brenda moved away. “I’m not that tense.” She looked and saw a woman staring at them. The woman’s gorgeous features and fine dress looked out of place, like a crystal glass among tin cans. When she saw Brenda she offered a tentative smile.
“Is she with you?”
Dominic glanced back, made a quick motion with his hand, to which the young lady nodded, then walked away. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No, but I wanted you to know that.”
/>
“I won’t even ask why because the reason wouldn’t matter.” She took a step back. “I guess I’ll leave now.”
Dominic took her elbow and forcefully, yet gently, led her to a nearby couch. He sat and pulled her down beside him. “She works for me and she’s seeing Thomas.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yes, he’s my manager now.”
“I’m not surprised. You two were always close.”
Dominic glanced around. “He’s here somewhere. We’re working on developing a new project.”
“Which I’m sure will be very successful. I’m surprised you made the time to come here,” Brenda said, unable to stop her sarcasm.
“I’ve learned to make time for things that are important to me.”
“Congratulations.”
“Is that all?” he said with surprise. “I should get a royal pardon at least.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“The Queen is without fault. Everything was my doing. I caused our divorce.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Look, I blame myself too, many times, but it’s over, so it doesn’t matter anymore.” She stood. “Goodbye.”
He stood too. “Brenda.”
She rested a firm hand on his chest and glanced around, embarrassed. “Lower your voice.”
“I wasn’t shouting.”
“You don’t think you’re shouting, but your voice could be heard in the Everglades.”
He lowered it. “I’m sorry.” He glanced down at her hand and a slow smile spread on his face. She snatched her hand away.
“Let’s not argue,” Brenda said, determined to keep her composure. “I know it’s something we do well, but let’s not do it here.”
He leaned forward, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “There’s something else we do well.”
