When a Lover Calls: A Romantic Suspense Novella (A TURQUOISE BEACH MYSTERY Book 1)

by Jane Preston

Leslie reached tentatively for the cup while keeping her large, tear-filled eyes fastened on Maureen’s face. “Prepare myself? For what?”

  “For when that scoundrel begs you to come back to him.”

  Leslie shook her pretty head vehemently. “No, Maureen. That will never happen. He told me in no uncertain terms that it's ‘over’ between us.” The young woman managed a whimpering sniffle before hazarding her first sip.

  Maureen hovered over her, concerned, and holding her breath. By the third sip, the tea was working its magic. “You’re absolutely right, Maureen. Chase Clifford is a scoundrel, a complete and total jerk. I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”

  “Atta, girl,” Maureen said, patting her neighbor on the back. “That’s the way to look at it.” Maureen slowly sat down at the kitchen table while she silently gauged Leslie’s ability to hear what she was going to say next. After a few moments, she decided to forge ahead, this time in a softer voice.

  “But...mark my words, Leslie. He will try to come back.”

  Between sips, Leslie’s mouth dropped open. Then, a hopeful expression sprang into her lovely, swimming eyes. “Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful?” she exclaimed.

  “No, my dear, that is not the way to look at it.” Maureen was reminding herself to be patient with her sweet, and, at times, extremely naïve friend when her cell rang. Leslie nodded, indicating it was okay for Maureen to answer the call, which Maureen felt certain was from her eccentric landlady, who was on yet another whirlwind vacation out of town.

  The caller I.D. indicated it was from "Anonymous." Yep, that's my landlady, she thought. Paranoid as usual. Fifty-something Sue White had even gone so far as to confess while collecting the rent check that she was sure aliens were watching her from her TV screen. It takes all kinds, Maureen remembered thinking at the time. Especially in California.

  “Hi, Sue.”

  “Sue? Hi, Maureen.” The voice was deep, resonant and unforgettable. She recognized it immediately.

  Totally caught off guard, Maureen frantically searched for the right words, weighing whether she should mention the caller’s name in front of Leslie. Unlike her exuberant and chatty neighbor, Maureen was a very private person, not easily inclined to share confidences. “Oh – y-yes! I’m glad to h-hear from…you.”

  “Maureen, I said I would call today just to hear you say my name.” His tone of voice, low and delicious, reverberated all the way through her heart.

  Shivers of excitement animated her very insides. Maureen didn’t want to discourage the gorgeous and inestimable Sterling Matthews in the slightest way, but she also wasn’t up to facing a barrage of prying questions from her neighbor either. “Please excuse me,” Maureen told Sterling, “But I have a friend here. She and I just sat down for a cup of tea. M-may I call you back later?” Her tone was pleasant and hopeful.

  “Oh, I apologize. I didn’t mean to interrupt. No worries, Maureen. I’ll get in touch with you in a day or two.”

  After she hung up, Maureen couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang of disappointment. What if he doesn’t call again? she privately worried.

  But she had other, more immediate, things to be concerned about. Leslie was eyeing her with heightened, undisguised interest. These kitchen visits were almost always about Leslie and her heart-rending, sometimes ridiculous, day-to-day travails.

  But, now, Maureen had her neighbor’s undivided, rapt attention, whether she wanted it or not. She didn’t want it. But she had to deal with it.

  “Who was that?” Leslie pinned her with an unblinking, azure-eyed stare, now free of tear stains, mentally dissecting something she didn’t quite understand.

  Maureen was quick to respond. “Oh, no one. Just a friend.” She tried to sound casual.

  “Just a friend?” Leslie continued to stare, unbelieving. “I’ve never heard you so nervous in all my life. It was a man, wasn’t it?”

  The older woman, visibly nonplussed, stammered. “Oh, n-no one, really. He – I mean, the person who called - didn’t know I had company.” She bit her lip.

  “He?” Leslie’s eyes lit up with obvious delight. “I knew it. Maureen, that’s wonderful!” The young woman jumped up from her chair and gleefully clapped her hands. “You’re dating someone! When did this happen, girlfriend? I want to know all the details.” In an unprecedented move, Leslie strode confidently to the stove, grabbed the kettle and brought it back to the table to refill both tea cups. The water was still steaming hot.

  Leslie returned the kettle to the cooling burner, demonstrating her apparent ease in Maureen’s kitchen. It was her turn to wait on Maureen.

  But Maureen didn’t want to be waited on. She twisted her napkin in her lap. “Really, Leslie, it’s no big deal.”

  “So when did you meet him? This man…Mr. Wonderful?” Leslie bubbled, clasping her hands together.

  “Mr. Wonderful? Well, I don’t really know him that well.”

  “But your eyes, Maureen. Your eyes tell the truth. You’re crazy about this guy!”

  The rest of their afternoon tea was a blur to Maureen; she sighed deeply with relief, as, an hour later, she quietly but firmly closed the kitchen door behind her vivacious visitor. She'd spent a good deal of time dodging Leslie’s well-meaning, but nosy, questions, one after another.

  Now, she was emotionally drained. Time for a short nap, she thought.

  As she gratefully collapsed onto her bed and pulled up the purple-and-green knit blanket, which her mother had lovingly crocheted for her many years ago, Maureen mentally kicked herself for having revealed his name. It had come at the absolute insistence of her pesky neighbor.

  “At least you have to tell me that.”

  Maureen had resisted long enough. “Sterling. Sterling Matthews.”

  “Wow. That’s beautiful.” Leslie breathed. Then she tilted her head, curiously. “Funny. I could swear I’ve heard that name before.”

  Too tired to consider any possible meaning in her friend’s statement, Maureen turned on to her left side, her favorite sleeping position. In no time at all, she was caught up in the comforting, inviting embrace of her late afternoon nap.

  ***

  The moment he’d gotten off the phone after talking briefly to Maureen, Sterling instinctively knew who her tea-time visitor was.

  “Leslie,” he sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions of his off-white, contemporary living room sofa. For the first time, he felt concerned that the two women would compare notes and arrive at the startling fact that, even though the names didn’t match, they were dating the exact same man.

  He shook his head, reassuring himself.

  He’d taken great care to keep his true identity a secret from Leslie, knowing from the start that, while very pretty, she wasn’t his type. He liked the hard-to-get women. Leslie was too forthcoming. Too easy. Too simple to figure out. He grinned briefly at the next thought. But she was enthusiastic.

  Sterling rose from the sofa to pour himself a scotch.

  No, he had definitely covered his tracks. In fact, he’d gone so far as to give Leslie the street address of a colleague of his, a traveling salesman who was nearly always away from home. Conveniently, Tim, who belonged to Sterling’s racketball club, would be out of the country for the next four months.

  As he poured the comforting amber-colored liquid onto a clinking bed of ice cubes, he was reminded that he’d gambled early-on that by the time Tim Keller returned, the affair with Leslie would be null and void. And that’s exactly what was happening, although he’d ended things with her much sooner than he’d expected.

  When Maureen with her demure, but clinging, red swim-suited had come on the scene, Sterling knew he couldn’t wait until things were wrapped up with Leslie to pursue his new love interest. Especially since he didn’t want the two close women friends getting together and figuring things out between themselves.

  Luckily, Leslie doesn’t know where I live, he thought, swirling the excellent liquor in his glass. The ice cubes collided agreeably
as he sighed for the second time. That way, I can rest assured she won’t be showing up at my front door, railing at me.

  He smirked. If she only knew where I really live. The thought sparked a very enjoyable scenario in his mind and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

  Leslie, he was sure, would soon move on to a new man. And then he could completely focus his efforts on Maureen.

  Sterling knew he just needed a little more time.

  And then everything would work out just fine.

  CHAPTER SIX

  During the drives to and from her real estate office for the past two days, Lucy Troppe had tried unsuccessfully to shake the question that continually nagged at her: Why was that woman crying so hard after coming out of Sterling Matthews’ therapy office? Lucy couldn’t help but observe that, instead of looking relieved following a session with her trusted psychologist, the young woman had appeared to be deeply disturbed, even close to hysterics.

  Intrigued by the mystery, Lucy had discreetly followed the mystery client to her place of employment, the trendy book store located just around the corner. Watching from the safety and privacy of her car, she’d noticed that the woman, after entering the building and taking up her post behind the large picture window, had frequently dabbed at her eyes when she thought no one was looking.

  I wonder what happened in that office that upset her so much, she silently queried, not for the first time.

  Lucy knew herself well. Unlike other women who went through life deferring to authority figures, often men, Lucy was not one to back down when uncomfortable questions needed answering. It was that same bold quality which made her briefly entertain the notion of becoming a reporter while she had been an undergraduate student at college.

  She was one of those people who simply had to know. Leave the crystal ball and tea leaves to others. Lucy Troppe wanted cold, hard facts.

  As she drove her car out of the short driveway of her Sunrise Real Estate office building and headed in the direction of the three-bedroom Tudor-style house she called home in a meticulously maintained, upscale suburb, Lucy grinned as she silently cast her own prediction.

  I see another visit to the Daily Book Store in my very, very near future.

  ***

  The shrill ringing of the phone woke a deeply-resting Maureen. She reached across the bed and groggily answered. “Hello?” The sleep was in her voice.

  “Maureen? It’s Sterling. Are you okay?”

  Immediately sitting up in bed, Maureen could feel the pounding of her heart and the sudden shortness of her breath. “Yes, yes, I’m okay. I-I was just taking a short nap.” Then she laughed. “At least it was supposed to be a short one.”

  “You must have needed the rest.” He paused and then continued. “I didn’t want to wait to call you in a few days. Is this a good time? I was hoping to catch you alone.” He crossed his fingers that he was not being too forward.

  Her enthused response put him at ease. “Oh, yes, my friend left a few hours ago. I’m here by myself.” Here she took a deep breath and added, “Sterling.”

  Now he was the one to laugh. “That’s exactly the reason I called. To hear you say my name.” Relieved, both of them giggled for a few moments. Then he said smoothly, “No, I lied. That’s not the only reason I called you tonight, Maureen.”

  At his hesitation, her mind raced ahead with possible worse-case scenarios. Was he going to break things off with her? Did he just get news that he’s dying?

  His melodious voice cut into her frantic thoughts. “Actually, Maureen, I wanted to see if I could talk you into having dinner at my place tomorrow night. I’m not the world’s greatest cook but I do have a nice view.”

  Once again, Maureen felt like she needed to pinch herself to make sure this wasn’t a dream. Gulping inaudibly, Maureen heard herself say, with far more self-assurance than she felt, “Of course, Sterling. That would be lovely. What time?”

  “Say, seven-ish, like before?”

  “Yes, that’s great. May I bring anything?”

  “Just your lovely self. Oh, yeah, let me tell you how to get to my home.”

  Two minutes later, Maureen was hanging up the phone when the thought struck her. Sterling had just given her driving directions to Palo Valdez, the most expensive and beautiful area of Liberty City.

  And it’s right on the most exclusive, posh beach around, where multi-millionaires, even billionaires, live.

  A nervous hand fluttered to her throat and Maureen couldn’t help but think, Oh, dear me, what have I gotten myself into?

  ***

  The day had dawned positively beautiful.

  Lucy, a typical early riser with a cup of coffee usually in hand well before 7 a.m., had devised a plan to get the mystery woman in the book store to talk to her. She’d present her with her real estate business card and see if she could suggest any local resource books on the subject. Also, she’d ask the woman if she could leave her card in the reception area. Sometimes book stores had a section set aside, like a bulletin board, where local businesses could do a little self-promotion. Companies in the area often helped each other to become more successful, as long as they were not in direct competition.

  It’s worth a try, Lucy thought, as she mindlessly tapped an index finger on her chin, now immersed in the activity of choosing exactly which outfit to wear to the surprise meeting with one of Sterling Matthews clients. Or does he call them patients?

  She didn’t care. All she cared about was getting chummy with someone who knew Sterling, perhaps even intimately. The thought made her cheeks redden. It usually took a lot to make Lucy Troppe blush.

  I bet Sterling Matthews could make me blush, Lucy beamed, as she chose her favorite Calvin Klein plaid pant suit from her huge, perfectly organized walk-in closet.

  “Well, it’s show time, Folks,” the highly-successful professional woman announced to no one but herself, and she breezed into her adjourning bedroom with its Cinderella-canopied four-poster bed, happily humming a familiar tune.

  ***

  Things were going a lot better than Lucy had expected. Tina Borden of the Daily Book Store had met her at the reception desk, asking if the new visitor needed any help.

  Boy, do I, thought Lucy, and within moments, the two women had launched into a lively conversation about real estate in the region. I can see why Tina was hired for this job, Lucy thought as their conversation flowed effortlessly. She has a natural curiosity and a gift for drawing people out in a friendly, non-threatening way.

  At one point, Tina asked Lucy where her business was located.

  “Right next to the Yacht Club in Casa Royale on Stoddard Street,” Lucy instantly replied, proud of the location of her prime property. She had worked like a dog to get there. Why not be pleased with her accomplishments?

  Apparently, Tina was also impressed. “Oh, yes, a wonderful place with incredible ocean views. Here, let me show you something I think you’ll be interested in, Lucy. It’s written by a local author. She addresses that area and more in her new book.” Tina easily turned on her heel and led the way to one of the back shelves, her mind racing with thoughts. Any mention of anything that had to do with Sterling still made her heart quicken.

  What Lucy didn’t know was that Sterling Matthews lived just a few miles from that area. Once, he’d invited Tina over for a few drinks. That was the last time she’d been in his high-brow neighborhood. Shortly afterwards, he’d called it quits. She’d tried valiantly to suppress her feelings for him during subsequent therapy sessions but it was useless. He was in her heart to stay.

  An hour later, the two new acquaintances were seated in a private booth near the back of a chic Greek restaurant, Lucy’s treat for Tina’s excellent customer service.

  Now if I can just get her to talk.

  It was Lucy’s last thought before the waiter came to the table to take their order.

  ***

  Tina Borden had spilled her guts today.

  I knew she just needed s
omeone to talk to. Someone she felt she could trust. What a naïve but sweet and obviously lonely woman. These were her thoughts as Lucy drove back to her home that night, absolutely jubilant. It was my professional demeanor and I took special care to be sympathetic in all the right moments. To say nothing of the fact that I live and work practically down the street from her unattainable, darling Sterling Matthews.

  Boy, do I have the goods on that guy. One word from me and his therapy business is a goner, or at least heavily damaged to the point of not being recognizable. She shivered with the sheer power of it. He’s sure to be censured by the American Psychological Association once they find out he’s been sleeping with a client. His license to practice may even be revoked.

  Lucy realized that she was hardly the role model for ethical behavior but even she knew it was wrong for a therapist to have sexual relations with his client-patient. Sterling was simply taking advantage of poor Tina, and, in the process, disrupting her therapy, to say nothing of destroying her ability to ever trust a man again.