A Private Affair Read Online Free PDF Page A

that back and don’t open it. Please .”
    “Okay, calm down,” Carissa said handing the notebook back, surprised that Ashley would be so worked up about such a simple object.
    Ashley smoothed down the front of the notebook, as if trying to wipe Carissa’s prints away. “I know you have to go. Just give me a description of a man you like—not Morris.”
    “This is—”
    Ashley pinned her with a hard stare. “You won’t regret it.”
    Carissa tugged on the strap of her handbag and decided to humor her, although she was annoyed by the question. She didn’t need someone pointing out how messy her life had become in one day. Just this morning, she thought she had a steady job and a great boyfriend she’d planned to marry. Now she had an ex-boyfriend and a new boss she couldn’t stand who may replace her with someone else. But if telling Ashley something about an ideal man would end this ridiculous conversation she was willing to do it. “Fine,” she said with a resigned sigh. “I want a man who’s willing to own me.”
    Ashley’s mouth fell open. “What?”
    Carissa laughed at the young woman’s expression, glad she’d gotten the response she wanted. Since she thought it was a silly question she felt pleased to give a silly answer. “Yes,” she said fighting to keep a straight face. “I want a man who makes me tremble when he says my name, a man who’s a bit of a throwback to a forgotten era, a man who wants to possess me and never let me go and… wait you’re actually writing this down?”
    “Yes, I don’t want to miss anything.”
    “Ashley, I was joking. A man like that likely has psychological issues.”
    Ashley closed the book and put it away. “You don’t have to worry.”
    “True, because—”
    “I’d better go.” She kissed Carissa on the cheek and gave her a tight hug. “Thanks again for the soup.”
    “It was just soup,” Carissa said surprised by her exuberance.
    Ashley looked at Carissa, tears springing to her eyes. “How could you say that?” she asked, but didn’t give Carissa a chance to answer. “Few people come by and visit Momma anymore, but you did. You not only cooked one of her favorite soup, chicken gumbo with an extra helping of smoked ham and dumplings and delivered it yourself, you stayed and talked to her. And by the light in her eyes, I could see how happy you made her. You didn’t talk just to me, you looked at her as if she were important too, and spoke to her like you always have, with respect. For that I can’t thank you enough,” she said then dashed off.
    Carissa watched her leave touched by her heartfelt words. At least she’d done something right and the bitterness of the day melted away. She walked up to her second story apartment and stopped when she saw her eleven-year-old neighbor, Malcolm Hewitt, sitting in the stairwell looking glum. She knew he didn’t enjoy summer school, but today he looked particularly miserable. He was small for his age, but lanky with a face that could switch from joy to sorrow in seconds.
    “What are you doing?” she asked him.
    “Nothing.”
    “Your mother’s not home yet?”
    He nodded.
    Carissa knew his mother worked hard, two jobs, so she kept an eye out for him, usually making sure that he had his homework done.
    “Hungry?”
    She saw his face light up. “Yes.”
    “Come on.”
    She knew he’d spent lots of time on his own but once she’d invited him over he always had a reason to come and visit. Besides, his company would help stop her from thinking about all that had happened that day.
    “Finish up your homework while I cook,” Carissa said, as she went into her bedroom to change.
    “I’m done.”
    “Then check over your answers because if I see a lot of sloppy mistakes I won’t let you back in here.”
    He quickly set his backpack on the table and took out his notebook. She liked his company. At first she didn’t think she would. His mother was a quiet woman who stayed mostly to herself. Most