Guilty of Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

prepare his portfolio. Wearing his shirt, tie,
and brown slacks, Parke thought about the appointment he just left.
His clients had been a distraught young married couple who hadn’t
taken his advice to diversify their stocks before the company filed
for bankruptcy.
    Common sense told Parke he should go,
but his feet refused to budge. He didn’t take rejection well. This
woman was brushing him off again. Despite not fitting his profile,
Cheney fascinated him. If he kept her talking, maybe he would learn
more about her this time. “You didn’t install the
lights.”
    She squatted to adjust a spotlight.
“Yeah, I know it made more sense to do it while I was planting, but
I couldn’t take the electrical class until last night.”
    The jackie-of-all trades, Parke’s jaw
dropped as she got up and headed to the garage and flipped a
switch. The strategically placed lights illuminated, transforming
the former old shack to the likes of a new display
model.
    “ Lady, what can’t you
do?”
    “ You’d be surprised,” she
mumbled, then walked inside her house, never looking
back.
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    The old adage, If you take one
step, then God will take two, nagged at Cheney until she woke.
The phrase kept revolving in her head. Irritated, she sat up and
threw back her cover. Spoiling herself, she had dared to indulge in
the expensive super-soft sateen sheets that coordinated with the
earth tone colors of stone, topaz and terracotta in her chenille
jacquard comforter.
    Matching curtains and an off white
recliner transformed her bedroom into a sanctuary. She padded
across the cool wood floor, repeating the adage. Once inside her
bathroom, she faced her reflection. “I’ll concede to one step, but
I can’t to making two.” She hoped God was eavesdropping.
    Less than an hour later, she stood in
her living room staring out the window. Sipping her coffee, she
stalled for time. When the last drop dried in the bottom of her
cup, she realized she couldn’t put the task off any
longer.
    She lifted her cordless phone from its
holder. With her other hand, she pulled the tiny yellow post-it
note out of her pocket. Despite the tiny scribbling, Cheney had
memorized her sister’s non-published phone number as the pen
stroked the paper. She had risked her job to retrieve it from the
company’s internal phone database system. There were strict
guidelines in place to protect customer’s privacy.
    “ Allen residence,” her
young niece answered.
    “ Hi, is your Mommy home?”
She stopped short of identifying herself as her aunt. Besides
knowing the child’s name was Natalie, Cheney knew little else, not
even who she looked like. Choking back a flood of tears, she gulped
a deep breath. It would be okay. Someday a child would call her mommy.
    “ Hello?” Janae’s clear
voice came on the line.
    “ Hey, sis.” She picked at
her sweater until she formed lint-shaped knots.
    “ Well, well. Cheney
Reynolds. Did mother give you my number?”
    “ I…I.” Cheney
grimaced.
    “ Never mind, you have it
now,” Janae sounded annoyed. “What can I do for you?”
    Was this the seed she’d sown five
years ago? The wound was open and the nerve severed. Now, Cheney
was the recipient of reaping the remains of what locusts left
behind from the harvest. She cleared her throat. “How about getting
together for lunch?”
    “ Can’t. We’ve got a family
picnic. Maybe next time.”
    “ I could tag…”
    Click.
    The tone amplified the disconnection.
Cheney exhaled, then inhaled to gather strength. Bouncing back from
stumbling off step one, she decided to take another one. Luckily
her twin brother’s number was listed and hadn’t changed. She
punched it in, and relaxed as if the call was part of her normal
daily routine.
    “ Yeah,” Rainey snapped on
the first ring.
    “ Hey, it’s me.”
    Silence.
    Rainey recovered before Cheney could
say anything. “How are you?”
    “ I’m fine,” she paused,
biting her lip. Where do I begin?