The Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page A

atop their silver ottoman. To any other onlooker, she would look peaceful, unwinding at the end of the day with a bottle of white, her feet up, dressed in pajamas with her DVR recorded soap playing on the television. To every other onlooker, it appeared to be just a relaxing evening in front of the television, something to be envied by many. To him, though, he knew better. She was unwinding, yes... but she was also sulking.
    It was then that he stomped through the living room’s doorway – with strong determination – and crossed the small room. His stupid little cocky grin was still plastered atop his face. She almost started laughing at the production he was giving. It was as though he was in a play, and he was being careful to exaggerate the theatrics of the situation. He reached to the arm of the chair, snatched the remote control, and flicked the television off.
    “Quit your job,” he ordered. Though his tone was demanding, it was far from harsh. He reserved the harsh and brutal negotiations for those with a work-related issue. Not for her; never for her. His demeanor was always softer with her, but she knew that despite the softness – he was serious. He wanted her to quit. She looked at him, stunned. She knew – by all the showboating – that he was going to do something dramatic and abrupt, but she didn’t expect those words to come out of his mouth.
    “I can’t just quit...” she stammered, shifting her head up off of the arm of the sofa. He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Why not?” he asked, his tone – surprisingly – not so much questioning as it was seemingly coercive. It was then that he threw the remote atop the silver ottoman. It clanked to the surface with a loud thud. Proud of himself, he gently sat down on the arm of the couch beside her.
    He sighed a large and – once again – melodramatic sigh; he took her head in his hands and held her steady. His thumbs grazed her chin and cheeks lightly. Trailing circles across her flesh, he cocked her head upwards to look at him. It was then that he seemed to unleash a masterful plan; she felt, while he was explaining it, that it was something he had been concocting for quite some time.
    It was comforting to hear his voice, soft and assuring, while he held her. She felt so safe in that moment. Looking into those beautiful blue eyes, she felt a warmth rush over her. The first thing she noticed about Preston was his eyes. They held an innocence within them that fueled something greater than the lust she normally would have felt for a man of his stature.
    As he explained his plan, he was adamant about her doing one thing: seeking what she wanted in life and going after it. He didn’t care how long it took for her to find it; he just wanted her to look for it. He would provide for them for as long as she needed. She knew he could. He made plenty of money. They didn’t have children at that time, and his argument seemed logical enough...so she took it into consideration.
    What did not seem logical, however, was opening up a bakery downtown with loads of other established competition. That’s what she wanted, though. A bakery. This bakery. This cute little shop was something that she built with her own two hands. The little pink and white themed bakery, which she stood in proudly, had been featured in various magazines, articles, and websites. She was happy. Beyond all else though, she owed Preston her success. It was because of his sacrifice and hard work that she was able to accomplish this amazing feat.
    Her memory was vibrant and full of imagery of the day she made the commitment to take on a business. She recalled, very vividly, in fact, the excitement she felt when she walked past it on that snowy morning and saw a “For Lease” sign hanging in the large window. The shop was small, but located perfectly around bustling businesses.
    In fact, she had just dropped off Preston’s coffee that morning and decided to walk a while before hailing a