Filed To Story: The Lingering Kiss of Farewell Novel
Just walked on by without so much as even glancing at him, he turned and tracked her. She had dark brown hair like Marrin did as well, but then heard the woman with her state,
“Oh it’s not that bad, Marilyn.”
And he shook it off and moved on.
It was not her, though his nose twitched as well. It did also seem like she was wearing the same perfume Marrin had always worn. He pulled himself together. There was no way he saw Marrin walking past him
‘d done to him. without recognising him. She’d likely go a little p?le at seeing him after what
He returned to the PAX East and let it go, though it bugged him enough for him to keep his eyes out for her over the next few days. This was also her industry, so it was entirely possible she could be here, working for some other company, networking like he was. But there was no sighting of the woman again, and he made a point of going to the same caf? as well to get coffee.
Wil was going to call him crazy. Now he was actively out there looking for the woman that had eluded him for the past eight bloody years, it was highly likely she wasn’t even in the country anymore. Though her passport renewal had turned up in his email a few years back, he’d glared at it, and sent it to the bin.
He actually had her passport. It had been from what anyone could figure out, stolen and used by some i***t to try and smuggle drugs across the border. The woman using it had been arrested, and he’d been called because she was his next of kin on that passport.
That had been four years ago, and he’d thought he had her, only to find the woman in the customs cell was not her, didn’t bloody look anything like her. The customs officers had already looked into who he was, and he’d stated simply after looking at the woman,
“That is not my wife. She was last seen in a plane crash in Italy.”
Had looked at that woman and asked how she’d gotten that passport.
She’d just stared up at him and said nothing. The passport hadn’t been returned to him. It was voided because she was missing and presumed dead but not certified as dead. He’d wondered how that woman had gotten it, but no answers had come to light on that.
Wil’s opinion on the matter was that maybe it was stolen from her. Calvin wondered if she’d simply tossed it away or given it to someone to use. Though that was against the law, but who the hell knew what type of woman she really was? He’d thought he’d known her, but in the end he had not. Knew nothing about her true nature.
He’d learned about that the hard way.
He returned to Huston and prowled around in his apartment. He’d actually gone and picked up her perfume from Cliffside and smelled it, refreshed his memory and, yes, he believed that woman in Boston had been wearing the same perfume. Tiffany & Co’s Pure Luxury, it had soft floral notes of Iris, Jasmine, Orange
Blossom and Damascus Rose.
Something he’d bought her to wear when they were out as a married couple. He’d liked the scent of it, and it had suited her nature, he’d thought at the time. She’d also been wearing it the day she’d left him, though she hadn’t taken the bottle with her. He’d thought she would have packed it to take with her, but no. It had still been at the house.
Everything he’d bought her had been at the house still, she’d taken nothing he’d given her with her. Not the jewellery or clothes, shoes, not the perfume, nothing. He’d come to realise that one suitcase she’d had that day, likely only had her own things in it from when she’d moved into that house, before he’d taken her shopping.
Her cheap jeans and shirts, things he’d looked at when she’d unpacked in that house the day she’d moved in, and he’d frowned at and stated,
“No, you’re not being seen in those.”
He had then taken her shopping that very day.
They’d come home from the courthouse after getting married, and she’d been wearing a simple but elegant lace dress in a soft cream colour, something he’d picked out for her to wear that day, not a wedding dress because it was a contract marriage, but a nice dress at the same time. Then taken her shopping, to show her what sort of clothes she needed to wear as his wife.
He couldn’t understand the woman. She wanted his money, but then hadn’t taken the hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of jewellery in that house. Nothing, it had confused bim for a long time. A part of him wanted to believe Wil, but another part of him just couldn’t, not after that message on his answering machine.
Now he was prowling around his penthouse apartment, and her perfume was here with him and now the place bloody smelled like Marrin. Not something he needed or wanted. She’d never actually spent the night here, had dropped by to pick up things he’d left here for her to collect and take back to Cliffside, but this was his apartment.
Their married life had been at Cliffside. He would pick her up and drop her off at that house, or pick her up and stay the night with her. He chose her partly because she was a brilliant mind and partly because he was also attracted to her, and so sleeping with her would be easy for him. He’d not expected to fall in love with the woman.
Though the marriage he’d proposed was a contract marriage, he’d wanted a woman that would also be in his bed, because he was only human and had needs. Enjoyed sating those needs in that woman as well.
+ Points)
He sighed and dropped down onto his bed. He needed to get that woman out of his head. Maybe Wil was right and it was time to let her go. He looked at his phone as his latest fling messaged him. He could use a distraction, he supposed. But he knew that girl was looking for him to be her husband. She was the daughter of a wealthy banker here in Houston.
They’d had dinner twice and after that second dinner she’d pulled him into her apartment and climbed right on top of him. She was, he knew, trying to show him she would f**k him if they got married. She was a nice??ooking girl, blonde and pretty, but she was also younger than him by quite a bit and there was a clear difference between him and her. He didn’t want to encourage the woman. He wasn’t going to marry her.
He texted
“no”
and tossed his phone on the bed only to have it ding and there was a picture of her with just her underwear on.
“You sure?”
the text with it read,
“I’m good for it.”
“I’m certain, didn’t really enjoy the s*x last time. Delete my number, I’m not husband material,”
He sent. Making himself perfectly clear, he then blocked her number. He’d never saved it to his phone. She was always the one to text him. The girl, it seemed, didn’t know how to hit the dial button and actually speak to him. He was old school in that way and liked being able to actually talk to a woman. This new generation didn’t really do that, it was all texting and sexting and social media posts. They wanted everyone to know about everything they did in their lives. It had bugged him, when she’d posted pictures of him on their two dates. I’m dating Calvin Reeves.”
It had been tagged.
He’d had his tech department hack it and shut it down very quickly. He’d called her and told her if she did it again without his permission, she’d regret it, and so would her father’s bank. He’d move his money else where and tell her father why.
Marylin
Checking into the hotel in Houston was really weird for her. The staff here at reception were all staring at her.
As she stood in their foyer in line waiting to be served, her boys were off with Lisa. They’d been busting to go to the bathroom. It had been a long drive out here, but this was the last book signing she had to do and then her nice quiet life could go back to just that.
The lady at the counter waved her to step up to the counter and Marilyn greeted her,
“Hi, Marilyn Riddley checking in.”
she smiled.
The lady frowned a little, then stated
“The author, Marilyn Riddley?”
“Yes,”