Read Online Kill the Competition by Stephanie Bond - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephanie Bond
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partially and wiped his hand on his splattered jeans. "What did you hit?"
"A police car."
"No shit?"
"Er, no."
"Damn. Want to go get some barbecue?"
"Thank you, no." She patted her briefcase. "I brought work home with me. Busy, busy, busy."
"Okay. Maybe some other time."
"Maybe."
She waved good-bye and hurried across the patch of grass between the curb and her front door. Inside she heaved a sigh of relief, stepped out of her shoes in the foyer, then walked through the first floor to park her purse and briefcase on the breakfast bar.
"Downey, I'm home."
Belinda didn't expect the cat to come running, and she didn't. Downey was still pouting over the move to Atlanta, away from Vince. She had reminded the little fur ball more than once that if Vince had wanted her, he would have kept her (the voice of experience), but Downey refused to let go.
After grabbing a Diet Pepsi from the refrigerator, Belinda sat at the small glass table tucked into a niche in her kitchen and contemplated the envelope from Vince. How had he gotten her address—from her mother? Not that she would be difficult to track down using a public records source. Regardless, a sovereign woman would write Return to Sender on the front and send it winging back to Cincinnati.
She opened the can of soda, took a sip, and held the envelope up to the window.
But what if the contents of his card offered some explanation to his behavior—he was gay, he was stupid, he was dying—that could give her closure?
It was a nice envelope, buff-colored, substantial in pound and gently textured. Square and oversized, extra postage—Birds of the Audubon Society. Fancy packaging for a deep message, or fancy packaging to compensate for lack of one?
The envelope was thick—maybe it contained a tell-all letter? Pictures? Cash?
Yilk —a wedding invitation?
He'd sworn no other woman was involved, but he was the same man who'd sworn to love and honor her until death parted them and then changed his mind three hundred and sixty minutes later.
She closed her eyes and willed away the melancholy that threatened to descend. Why had the card arrived today of all days, when she'd gotten possibly the biggest break of her career and was starting to feel good about her move to Atlanta?
A touch against her shin made her jump. Downey blinked up at her and yawned.
"Oh, now you want my attention," Belinda teased. With one hand she lifted the cat to her lap and with the other waved the unopened envelope. "A mysterious message from your precious master."
Downey swatted at the envelope, then decided that her paw needed grooming. Belinda propped the envelope against a yellow fruit bowl and studied it while she stroked Downey's neck. For now, she'd leave it. And think.
The phone rang, sending Downey springing to the floor. Belinda rose and flipped on lights as she walked back to the front of the town house and into the room that would serve as a sitting room when she could afford something to sit on. For now, it housed two unopened moving cartons, one blue upholstered swivel chair, one temperamental television, and one end table that served as magazine rack and telephone stand. She picked up the portable handset, thinking she'd someday splurge on caller ID. For now, so few people knew her number that it didn't matter.
"Hello?"
"Hello, dear, it's Mother."
She smiled. "Yes, Mother, I recognized your voice."
"Did I catch you at a bad time?"
Belinda glanced around her quiet, empty rooms. "No. Have you finished packing?" In a few days her parents were embarking on the cross-country trip to the Grand Canyon they had planned for years. They were supposed to have left after the wedding, but her mother hadn't wanted to leave her in Cincinnati by herself at such a vulnerable time. After she'd moved to Atlanta, her mother hadn't wanted to leave her on the East Coast by herself at such a vulnerable time. Belinda had at last convinced her to go.
"Almost dear, almost. I hate to bother you
"A police car."
"No shit?"
"Er, no."
"Damn. Want to go get some barbecue?"
"Thank you, no." She patted her briefcase. "I brought work home with me. Busy, busy, busy."
"Okay. Maybe some other time."
"Maybe."
She waved good-bye and hurried across the patch of grass between the curb and her front door. Inside she heaved a sigh of relief, stepped out of her shoes in the foyer, then walked through the first floor to park her purse and briefcase on the breakfast bar.
"Downey, I'm home."
Belinda didn't expect the cat to come running, and she didn't. Downey was still pouting over the move to Atlanta, away from Vince. She had reminded the little fur ball more than once that if Vince had wanted her, he would have kept her (the voice of experience), but Downey refused to let go.
After grabbing a Diet Pepsi from the refrigerator, Belinda sat at the small glass table tucked into a niche in her kitchen and contemplated the envelope from Vince. How had he gotten her address—from her mother? Not that she would be difficult to track down using a public records source. Regardless, a sovereign woman would write Return to Sender on the front and send it winging back to Cincinnati.
She opened the can of soda, took a sip, and held the envelope up to the window.
But what if the contents of his card offered some explanation to his behavior—he was gay, he was stupid, he was dying—that could give her closure?
It was a nice envelope, buff-colored, substantial in pound and gently textured. Square and oversized, extra postage—Birds of the Audubon Society. Fancy packaging for a deep message, or fancy packaging to compensate for lack of one?
The envelope was thick—maybe it contained a tell-all letter? Pictures? Cash?
Yilk —a wedding invitation?
He'd sworn no other woman was involved, but he was the same man who'd sworn to love and honor her until death parted them and then changed his mind three hundred and sixty minutes later.
She closed her eyes and willed away the melancholy that threatened to descend. Why had the card arrived today of all days, when she'd gotten possibly the biggest break of her career and was starting to feel good about her move to Atlanta?
A touch against her shin made her jump. Downey blinked up at her and yawned.
"Oh, now you want my attention," Belinda teased. With one hand she lifted the cat to her lap and with the other waved the unopened envelope. "A mysterious message from your precious master."
Downey swatted at the envelope, then decided that her paw needed grooming. Belinda propped the envelope against a yellow fruit bowl and studied it while she stroked Downey's neck. For now, she'd leave it. And think.
The phone rang, sending Downey springing to the floor. Belinda rose and flipped on lights as she walked back to the front of the town house and into the room that would serve as a sitting room when she could afford something to sit on. For now, it housed two unopened moving cartons, one blue upholstered swivel chair, one temperamental television, and one end table that served as magazine rack and telephone stand. She picked up the portable handset, thinking she'd someday splurge on caller ID. For now, so few people knew her number that it didn't matter.
"Hello?"
"Hello, dear, it's Mother."
She smiled. "Yes, Mother, I recognized your voice."
"Did I catch you at a bad time?"
Belinda glanced around her quiet, empty rooms. "No. Have you finished packing?" In a few days her parents were embarking on the cross-country trip to the Grand Canyon they had planned for years. They were supposed to have left after the wedding, but her mother hadn't wanted to leave her in Cincinnati by herself at such a vulnerable time. After she'd moved to Atlanta, her mother hadn't wanted to leave her on the East Coast by herself at such a vulnerable time. Belinda had at last convinced her to go.
"Almost dear, almost. I hate to bother you
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