responsibility. I’m counting on you to take care of this.” He received an approving nod from Andy. “However you want to work it out is fine, but we are having supper at our house tonight.”
“ John —”
“I’ve got to go. See you at six.” He pushed the button to end the call and hesitated. The disappointed look on Patrick’s face told him he’d been too harsh. Maybe I should call her back.
“I’m telling you,” Andy said, stopping him. “She’s a liability.”
John felt his frustration peak. “She’s my wife and the mother of my children,” he said through clenched teeth. “I won’t have you disrespecting her any longer.”
“Right, ’cause you’re doing enough of that for the both of us,” Andy scoffed.
“When your marriage is perfect, you’ll have room to talk—”
“There’s no such thing.” Trisha’s silky voice suspended the tension as she swept gracefully into the room. Her glossy brown hair lifted gently with each flowing step, while her ample breasts moved under a tight sleeveless blouse. The buttons gapped to reveal a black, lace bra. “We always want what they can’t have,” John’s press secretary said. “Marriage sort of spoils it, doesn’t it?”
Patrick looked confused. “Spoils what?”
In one elegant movement, she turned and slipped her trim hips onto the desk. Crossing her tanned legs, she leaned forward and rested on both hands for support, increasing the swell of her breasts. “The sex, of course,” she said, drifting the gaze from her dark, almond eyes in John’s direction.
None of them seemed to notice the sound her bracelet made as it slid down her arm and came in contact with his desk.
* * * *
“Damn-him!” Josie snapped her phone shut. “Sometimes I really hate that man.”
“What did he say?” Gina asked. “Are you moving the dinner? Is it cancelled?”
“‘Real busy’ my ass,” Josie growled, and then noticing the reproachful glances of the other moms, she mumbled, “Sure as hell better be curing cancer or something.”
“What’s happening?” Gina asked again.
Josie didn’t answer; she only continued to rant in a slightly lower voice. “If he wasn’t the father of my children I would—”
“Would what?” Gina questioned in a cynical voice. “Leave him?”
Josie’s heart raced at the very thought hastening her to the third, and most vital, unofficial rule of being a stay-at-home mom: To be blissfully unaware that her life hadn’t turned out the way she’d always envisioned it would. And to do so—since she’d given up alcohol—she needed to stay insanely busy at all times.
“I have to go,” Josie said, in a huff. She didn’t know to where, but she knew she had to get moving. “I have to find another caterer.”
“Yeah, right.” Gina laughed and then stopped. “You can’t be serious.”
“Got to go. Can you handle things here? I’ll call you.” Josie didn’t wait for a response—she was already heading for the door.
* * * *
Josie talked to herself as she drove out of the school. Okay, think. Where to find a caterer? She thought about Joe and his burning restaurant. How awful that must have been. Of course! There are about a million little places to eat right near Joe’s. Surely, one of them can do it.
The first restaurant she pulled into was located in a restored home from the 1800’s, complete with a wooden front porch, pots with colorful pansies, and white rocking chairs. The menu out front didn’t have any prices but there was a sign with the words, “Catering Available”.
Inside, the aroma of home cooking mixed with the musty smell of an old house. Deep, red velvet flanked each window and accented the round-backed chairs. The owner, a woman with stiff sprayed hair, tight pants, and wearing a set of the biggest beads Josie had ever seen, asked, “What can I do for ya, sugar?”
“Um, well, I need a dinner party catered…tonight,” Josie said, hopeful.
When the woman laughed