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Authors: Michelle Lindo-Rice

BOOK: Walk a Straight Line
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You know what, she wasn't having this. Colleen threw the pants on the floor and strode into the kitchen. She confronted him. “I am not taking them back!”
Terence's eyes narrowed. His body stance said,
Who is she talking to like that?
But he didn't say that. “Yes, you are,” he said quietly.
He always spoke in a low voice. Yelling was just not his style. But Colleen was not fooled for an instant. She could hear the underlying steel, and it did not sit well with her. She ran her fingers through her hair before she caught on that it was a dead giveaway of her uncertainty. She clasped her hands together to keep them out of her hair.
Though unsure what her next move should be, she knew that she wasn't happy with the way that things were going. Colleen liked pleasing people, but at this moment, she wanted to please herself. Gina's comments from weeks ago still rattled. She didn't want to be taken advantage of by anybody, and that included her husband.
“It shouldn't matter what I wear,” Colleen changed tactics. “You never had a problem when we were dating. And you may not want me wearing pants, but don't think I don't see you checking other women out.”
Terence scoffed at her sentiment. “All the other wives wear dresses, and I feel that you should, too. Baby, I'm not trying to change who you are. I just want you to fit in with the ministers' wives. Even my mother agrees that you need to dress a little more conservatively. ”
Colleen bit her lip to keep from screaming. It was all beginning to make sense to her. Francine was behind this. She'd probably made some comment that put this idea into Terence's head. Colleen knew that Francine didn't really like her. Francine wanted to keep her son to herself and at her beck and call. Colleen recognized this and made up her mind to ignore Francine's antics, but it was difficult.
Terence leaned toward her and kissed her full on the lips. Colleen knew that this was his way of persuading her to change her mind. She vowed not to be manipulated by his charm. Then, she sighed as she felt Terence's passion increase. He continued his tender manipulations. Colleen's passion rose. “I'll try,” she promised as she leaned into her husband's embrace, seeking more.
The better she felt, the more she capitulated. It wasn't such a big deal, Colleen convinced herself. She could wear dresses every day. There were so many cute styles, and she had long boots for the winter. She supposed she could compromise on this, because, after all, it was not going to hurt her.
Terence smiled with barely concealed pleasure at her acquiescence.
Colleen noticed the slight air of superiority on Terence's face and hated that she'd become putty in his hands. It was almost like he was reveling in the control he had over her, and a part of her resented it, but a stronger part of her wanted to agree to anything he told her to do. She felt powerless, like all he had to do was touch her and she would do whatever he asked.
Chapter Eight
Michael entered his hotel suite and dumped the luggage he held to the floor.
“Well, aren't you going to even
talk
to me?” Karen whined. “I know I caught you off guard and how much you hate surprises. But I was desperate.”
She addressed Michael for the third time that evening, but he barely glanced her way. He was too ticked off to even respond, and her voice grated on his nerves. Michael couldn't for the life of him figure out how Karen had finagled her way to Atlanta. He'd been in bliss for the past three weeks—before she'd just shown up, uninvited.
After he'd spoken to Gina the night before, he'd place a courtesy call to Karen. Just to check on her. Mistake number one. In their brief conversation, he'd told her his location. Mistake number two. He'd left his AmEx card in his house. Mistake number three. Boy, did he regret his big mouth.
Karen must have hopped on the next thing smoking the minute that he'd gotten off the phone with her. When the concierge told him that there was a woman waiting for him in the lobby, he'd practically sprinted, expecting to see Gina. He hadn't bothered to conceal his annoyance when he'd spotted
the leech
instead. Yes, Michael had seen
all
of her, now; however, the very sight of Karen revolted him. He was tired of her. What had he ever seen in her?
“Mikey, come on. Please. Talk to me,” she wailed.
Michael continued to disregard her.
“I can't stand it when you get into one of your pouting sessions just because something didn't go your way. I didn't force you to sleep with me.”
Karen was right. She hadn't forced him, but now he was paying for it. Michael knew that it was childish to ignore her, but she had complicated his escape plan. He was here to get some breathing room, to think and strategize. He had no intention of being entangled in a love triangle, so, he had to figure this out.
Why didn't I just stay away? That was all I had to do. Walk away!
Frustrated, Michael would have kicked his own butt, if he could have, for his stupidity. He sighed. He couldn't avoid her forever. So, he proposed, “Tell you what, why don't you go get something to wear; and then we'll talk.”
Karen jumped at the chance of going shopping and spending his money. She grabbed the card he offered and left the suite before he changed his mind. Michael shook his head at her predictability. He'd never noticed how shallow and selfish Karen really was. Meeting Gina had enlightened him about how good women behaved. Now he was potentially ruining his chance to have everything he had ever wanted.
No, he would not allow that. He would figure out how to fix this, and Gina would never find out.
Since he knew he could talk freely as Karen wouldn't be back any time soon, Michael used his speed dial and waited for his brother to pick up the line. “Come on, come on, Bro, pick up.”
Keith answered on the second ring. Michael knew his brother was still upset with him, but he needed to confess to someone. “Um, Karen is here with me.”

What?
” Keith's shout made his ear ring.
“I didn't bring her, Keith. I simply called her last night to check on my place. She surprised me. I didn't invite her. When I came in this evening, the front desk informed me that a woman was waiting for me in the lobby. I thought it was Gina. I don't even know how she found out I was staying at the Georgian Terrace. She must have used my credit card to pay for her flight. It's a good thing I had reserved a two-bedroom suite.” He heard Keith's loud sigh, but continued, “It's as if she is digging her claws into me all over again, and I have no idea how to shake her off without her going ballistic again.”
“Well, that's what happens when you sleep with a psychopath. As far as I'm concerned, you brought this on yourself.”
Michael winced at his dispassionate tone. Keith didn't empathize with his plight. “I know.” Michael sighed deeply and rubbed his chin. How had his life gotten so complicated already?
For several seconds, the line remained quiet. Then Keith spoke, “Okay, I'm going to attempt to put my personal feelings aside. I know you feel guilty, but the milk's already spilt, so to speak. Put Karen on the next flight, or wrap things up down there, and get home,” Keith offered. “You had your closure with Karen, now end it, for good. Unless . . . you still have residual feelings for her?”
“No . . . I don't know. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't care about her.” Michael felt confused and perplexed. He rubbed his temples, knowing a migraine was coming on.
“Well, you'd better figure things out fast.”
Michael hung up shortly after that. He gathered his wits and called Gina. She must have been waiting for his call because he didn't remember hearing it ring.
“Hello?”
Michael gulped. Act normal. He lightly returned, “Hi, yourself.”
“I've been looking out for your call,” Gina greeted him, blissfully unaware of the rocks that lined Michael's stomach.
He crossed his fingers, though he knew she couldn't see. Here goes. “Yeah, I had a small conflict with the layout plans for the new Simmonds Synthetics building, which took up most of my time yesterday and today.”
Gina switched topics. “So, you miss me?”
“Of course,” Michael responded to the sultry tone in her question. “Actually, all I've been doing is thinking about you.”
“Good, because the longer you're gone, the more I'm missing you.”
Michael smiled and pressed the phone closer to his ear, subconsciously attempting to be nearer to her. Gina's voice soothed him. He vowed that he was going to do right by her. As soon as Karen returned, he would send her on her merry way.
“Well, I guess I'll be going to the Homecoming Dance this Friday night by myself.”
Michael heard her overstated sigh and slapped his head with his hand. “Oh no. Gina, I completely forgot!” She had told him about the Homecoming Dance held the third Friday of every October, but it had completely slipped his mind. There was no way he'd make it. “I didn't write it down on my calendar.”
“Don't worry about it. It's only a silly dance. Take care of your business, that's more important. My friends will just have to meet you another time.”
Gina was so agreeable that Michael felt even worse. She should not have let him off the hook that easy. His insides churned at his deception. But then he heard the lock click. Michael knew Karen would act the fool and do something stupid if she knew he was on the phone with another female.
“Well, Gina, I've got to run.”
Gina impulsively blew him a kiss. “Okay, get your rest and we'll talk tomorrow.” Her seductive promise brought all kinds of images to his mind. He didn't care if Karen heard now. He'd told her that he was dating someone. “I will,” he said, softly. Michael ended the call just as Karen entered the room.
She showed off her purchases from the boutique in the lobby. He listened and bit his lip to keep from yelling, “Shut up.”
The evening dragged on and Michael felt antsy. Karen entertained herself by watching television while eating strawberries and chocolate. She was too caught up in whatever she was watching to pay him any attention, which was good for him.
He had to think of a way to detach this parasite from under him, without her leaving any marks from sucking his blood dry.
Despite all the upheaval in his personal life, Michael had a productive day at work the next day. He had also finally met Tyler Simmonds, owner of Simmonds Synthetics, to discuss his expansion plans. Tyler was considering opening yet another branch in Atlanta and wanted to get some preliminary designs and suggestions. He had been impressed with Michael's work and wanted to consult with Michael to get some innovative ideas.
Michael had been awed by the other man's drive and determination. He had even met Tyler's wife, Camille. The two seemed so close and in love that Michael found himself thinking about Gina. He and Gina could have something like that all the way. All he needed to do was get his act together.
In his bed that night, Michael promised himself that he'd have a serious talk with Karen and make sure she understood that they were through. As soon as they were back in New York, she would be out of his home and out of his life. For good.
The next morning, Michael strode into Karen's bedroom. Rough and not caring, he jerked her awake from her sound sleep. “Get dressed,” he commanded. “You're going back to New York today. And I expect you packed and gone when I return.” He'd had his secretary purchase Karen a ticket.
Karen wiped her eyes to clear them, and when she lifted the covers, he registered that she was naked. Probably hoped he would've joined her the night before. But Michael was past all that. She had played her last card. With a made-up mind, he folded his arms and turned around.
“Mikey.”
He did not respond.
“Mikey,” she called to him again.
He didn't turn around to look at her. He knew who he wanted, but he wasn't foolhardy to push fate.
Michael ignored her and walked toward the bathroom. He sensed when she walked behind him. He wasn't sure if she'd put clothes on, but he wasn't about to find out. A visual of her delectable physique flashed across his mind. He steeled himself. Clenching his fists, he told himself,
You're better than this.
When she touched him, he flinched, but didn't turn around. “I meant what I said, Karen. I am not falling for the same old ploy again.” She grabbed onto the back of his arms, but still he didn't comply.
Her hands felt wet. Tears? Sure enough, he heard the telltale sniffle.
Oh boy.
A woman's tears had always been his undoing. He felt himself caving. No, he told himself, do not give in.
Seconds passed. Sweat beaded his chin. Just as he reached his threshold, Karen removed her hands and left. Michael jumped at the sound of the door slamming. He took both his hands and clasped them like he was about to pray.
Then he looked upward and whispered a heartfelt,
“Thank you, Lord.”
Just one second more and he would have folded. He and Karen would be tangling in the sheets this very instant. Michael gave Gina a call and squelched his disappointment when the call went to voice mail. “If there aren't any delays, I'll be back Monday night,” he informed her. “I'm coming straight from the airport to your house. Baby, your face is the first I want to see.”
Chapter Nine
Pick up the phone, please.
Colleen tapped the heel of her shoe on the tile floor while she listened to the phone ring. It would serve her right to get voice mail, but she was hoping she didn't.
“Well, it's about time,” Gina said, without preamble. “I didn't think it would take you this long to call. When you ignored my texts, I decided to give you some space.”
“I don't know why it took me this long,” Colleen admitted.
“I know why. It's Terence,” Gina complained through the line. “I feel like you're allowing him to come between us. I know you're married, and you're all into church now and all that, but I've been your friend forever, Collie. Forever.”
A tense silence followed, and the sound of static filled the line. This was the first time in over a decade that the two friends had been at odds like this with each other. It was as if they were strangers.
Colleen couldn't abide it. “Gigi,” she began, with the endearment, “Terence isn't . . .” She paused, because denial would be a blatant lie. “I mean, I'm just going through an adjustment and being newly married is major work, but there's no crack in the bond of our friendship—it's too strong to break. I'm sorry for my behavior, Gina. It was cruel and mean and . . .” Colleen stopped and began to cry.
“I didn't intend for you to cry, Colleen. Listen, friend. It would take more than a thoughtless statement or a few weeks to destroy what we have. We're sisters.”
Colleen breathed a huge sigh of relief, glad that her friend was so forgiving and had let her off the hook. “I love you, girl, you know that,” she said with emotion.
“I love you, too,” Gina replied. “I'm glad you called, and truthfully, I was going to call you, if you didn't call me by this weekend. And if you hadn't answered, I would've been at your door. But that's a moot point now, I guess.”
“Let's get together tomorrow. Ring the weekend together, like old times,” Colleen offered.
“Oh, I can't. It's the Homecoming Dance this Friday night, remember? I have a hair and nail appointment after work tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah.” Disappointment filled her. She asked, “What about Saturday, after I get out of church? Or, better yet, why don't you finally take me up on my offer to come to church instead?”
“That sounds good.”
Colleen wasn't sure which one Gina was committing to, but she didn't push. She'd just ended one fight and wasn't about to start another. “Well, listen, I am on my way to Wednesday night prayer service,” Colleen said. “We'll catch up.”
“Sure thing. Love you.”
Colleen hung up the phone, feeling glad that she had made a move at restoration. A huge load had been taken off her chest, and she could breathe freely. She really hated what she'd said to her friend, and the friction in their friendship had bothered her tremendously.
Thankfully, Gina didn't know the meaning of holding a grudge. It was her willingness to forgive that made their friendship invaluable. Colleen looked at her watch. Yikes. She had to get moving before Terence came looking for her. They should've left ten minutes ago and Terence was scheduled to preach.
In stocking-clad feet, Colleen rushed to her vanity to find a natural shade of lipstick to wear. She picked up a pink gloss and glided it over her lips. Then she dabbed perfume on her legs and behind her ears. Satisfied, Colleen stepped back to observe herself. Her eyes widened—amazed at her transformation. Was Gina right?
Who is this person staring back at me?
She wore a mustard skirt that was a respectable knee-length. Her beige blouse was a little larger than what she was used to wearing, and it was tucked neatly into her skirt. A nice set of pearls and matching studs in her ears completed her look. The only thing left to put on were her expensive—and ugly—black pumps. They'd been a gift from Francine and Colleen hated them. Francine's own shoes rivaled runway models, so Colleen knew she'd bought these out of sheer spite.
She turned her head to make sure her long mane pinned in a neat bun at the base of her neck still held.
With a loud sigh, Colleen looked down at her nails designed in a French manicure. She moaned. She resembled nothing like the woman that she was a few months ago. Gone were her brash and bold colors. Now, she looked like a schoolmarm from the frontier days. Teachers did not dress like this today. At least not any her age. She was one so she should know.
Colleen stepped away from the mirror just as Terence entered the room. He strolled over to her. She stood motionless as he gave her a quick kiss, and then appraised her. Colleen was happy to see the pleased glint in his eyes. He quickly headed into the shower to get dressed.
I guess I passed inspection
, she thought
.
Although she didn't like the idea of fighting with him, she also didn't like making all the concessions either. Terence had bought these clothes for her. She would be ungrateful not to wear them. She touched her neck . . . And these were his mother's pearls.
“Babe, will you sing for us, tonight?” Terence called from the shower.
Colleen's mind screamed.
No!
“Yes, hon, if that's what you want,” Colleen answered, but on the inside, she burned with resentment. He knew she hated singing in front of people. She'd told him countless times. She stuffed her feet into her shoes and grabbed her coat. Why'd he even bother asking? It's not like she really had a choice. He'd only make her feel guilty if she didn't.
Later that night, as they stood by the door and greeted the parishioners leaving the church, Colleen welcomed the fact that she and Terence made a striking couple. Everyone praised her on her solo and Terence on his inspiring message. Colleen plastered a grin on her face, shook hands, and greeted people—most of whose names she had not yet memorized. Faces blurred before her, but she put up a good front, trying to project the image of a good pastor's wife.
An older woman came up to Terence to speak to him in private. From the corner of her eye, Colleen saw Terence step over to the side to listen to her. Not knowing what else to do, Colleen just stood there, waiting, with a stupid smile planted firmly on her lips. She felt a pang of loneliness hit her at the sight of a group of women, about her age, talking and laughing. She hoped to make friends but didn't join them. She wished Gina were here. Gina never had a problem making friends.
“Hello, again,” a deep voice resonated right in front of her.
Colleen jerked in surprise. She had been so caught up in her reverie that she had not realized that someone had approached. “Oh my goodness!” She clutched her throat and heat seared her cheeks. Colleen sought to retrieve his name. She'd met him before. She knew it. God rescued her.
Aha!
“I didn't see you standing there, Brother
Felix.
I'm sorry.”
“That's all right,” Brother Felix replied with a laugh. “I enjoyed your song earlier.”
“Why, thank you,” Colleen said, basking in his praise. He was a handsome man, and it felt good to be on the receiving end of his compliment.
“Hello,
Brother
Felix,” Terence addressed the man, though he was a little distance away. Colleen heard his stilted voice as he asked, “Haven't seen you in a while. How are you?”
“Fine, fine, and yeah, I do need to come more often,” Brother Felix answered, but his eyes were still on Colleen.
Colleen didn't know what to do, so she looked away to focus on her hands. Terence walked over and took her hands and gripped them hard.
Ow!
Colleen naturally bit her lip to keep from uttering a sharp cry. She glanced at Terence, trying to figure out what was going on. Terence had a stoic look on his face and did not glance her way.
Does he realize that he's hurting me?
Colleen twisted her fingers in his to give him a subtle hint to loosen his hold. But Terence squeezed even harder than before. Pain shot through her crunched fingers. Colleen looked at Felix and saw his eyes pinned on her. His concerned frown and burrowed brows made her act fast. Colleen forced a smile onto her face until Felix's facial expression relaxed.
“See you around,” he said and quickly departed.
As soon as they got home that night, Colleen challenged Terence. “Why were you squeezing my hand so hard?” she yelled.
“Because.” That was Terence's quiet reply.
“Because? You
hurt
me!” Colleen accused angrily.
“Well, I was trying to squash your flirtation with Felix James,” Terence stated, matter-of-factly. His eerily calm tone gave Colleen chills up her spine. But she was dealing with an alpha male and wouldn't back down. “Flirting?” Colleen huffed. “Are you serious right now? I wasn't flirting! He just said hello to me, Terence. That's all.” Colleen grabbed his hand to get his attention, but he shrugged her off. To her chagrin, he was still frighteningly unruffled and leisurely undressed as if he had done nothing wrong. His unconcerned attitude irked her to no end. At that very moment, Colleen felt like splitting his head wide-open. “I want an apology,” she demanded.
Terence ignored her and went to relieve himself. Vexed, Colleen didn't bother undressing; instead, she grabbed her pillow and blanket, then trounced to the living room. “I'll sleep on the couch,” she said. Colleen fluffed the pillows and shifted her body, but she just couldn't settle. Tears pricked her eyes. Suddenly, she felt scared and alone.
Terence was not who she thought he was.
He is wicked and heartless
. What had she gotten herself into?
She heard Terence flick on the television from inside the bedroom and opened her mouth in amazement. He seriously intended to leave things like that between them and had no intention to apologize. What about not going to bed angry and all that other stuff he yammered on about in church? Her temper kicked in. That's it! She wasn't going to stay here a minute longer. In one fluid motion, fueled by rage, Colleen sprang off the couch, kicked the blanket, and tossed the pillow on the floor. “Take that, Mr. Fastidious!” She quickly grabbed her keys and left.
 
 
Terence heard the front door slam. He went out to investigate and saw the headlights of Colleen's Lexus tearing out of the driveway. He wasn't worried. An hour passed . . . Then two. Then it was the next morning, and she still hadn't returned.
Terence rested his hand on his chin in thought. He hadn't done anything wrong, but evidently, he must have done something for Colleen to leave in such an uproar. She'd been distressed at the way he held onto her hand outside the church, but that was nothing. It wasn't enough for her to just up and leave.
Well, she'd had her time-out. It was time for her to come home now. He needed to settle matters between them and fast. The head pastor, Bishop Greenfield, was scheduled to pay a home visitation soon under the guise of dinner and conversation. However, Terence knew the deal. He needed his wife front and center, willing and cooperative. Terence knew that Bishop Greenfield wouldn't ordain him as an associate minister if it appeared that his home was in chaos. After all, if he couldn't control his own home, then how could he effectively run a church?
Terence thought about Colleen. He knew she had to be happy because he'd given her free rein to shop and do as she pleased. She didn't have to work, because he made more than enough to support her. A lot of women would kill to be in her position. And what did he ask of her in return? Nothing much in comparison, Terence reasoned. He only admonished her to do what he thought was apt as a pastor's wife. Nothing more.
He reached on his nightstand where he'd left his cell charging. He'd call Gina. He bet that's where Colleen had spent the night.
“Hey, Gina, I needed to speak to Colleen. Is she there, by chance?”
“No—no. I haven't seen her. Is everything all right?”
They spoke for several seconds before he ended the call. Terence pressed the END button. He wasn't sure if Gina had been lying about not knowing his wife's whereabouts. Friends lied to cover for each other all the time. Yet, he couldn't come out and accuse Gina outright of dishonesty, but where else would Colleen be?
Terence expelled a huge breath. His heart pounded . . . Unless, she'd found out about . . . No, she couldn't have. Could she? Scenarios raced through his mind.
Terence tasted palpable fear. He was too close to where he wanted to be and couldn't lose everything because of one heedless act. Panicked, he got on his knees and fervently prayed. “Lord, please, I've asked for your forgiveness in that matter. It was just a moment of weakness. Don't punish me this way, please, Lord. I sincerely love Colleen, and, Lord, if you send her home, I will be different. I promise.”
Terence got off his knees, feeling a lot better. While praying, God had given him a divine inspiration. Without a moment's hesitation, he picked up the phone to make some calls. He knew what he had to do.

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