"Simone?"

She nodded. Her eyes flashed blue like a gas flame. The heat from her stare set the room temperature up another ten degrees. Maryanne was a jealous natured woman, but not because he had paraded other women in front of her, or stepped out on her in the past. What man would when her beauty by far outshined the women of Castle Rock? No. Her jealousy was very much contained, and focused. Maryanne Hollingsworth Gatlin was to be the center of attention, always. He hadn't even given it a thought when he spent most of the evening ogling Simone's cleavage and licking his lips every time she parted her full pair to speak. He spent most of it staring at her, and apparently his wife spent most of it watching him.

"She's my boss's wife. You're the one throwing them a party." He tossed his shirt to the bed, ran his belt out of his pants loops. "What did you expect me to do? Ignore her?" he reasoned.

"She's attractive, if you like that kind."

"What kind is that, Maryanne?"

"Ghetto," Maryanne smiled.

"What the f.u.c.k is your problem?"

"My problem?" She rose from the chair, dropping a hand to her hip. "My problem is I sat through dinner watching while my husband flirted in my face. Simone Livingston may be too dense to notice, but I saw you. Since when am I not enough? Tonight was our night and you barely said two words to me at first. You pouted like some brat, and then drooled all over yourself when she arrived the next minute. Why? I want to know why you keep pushing me away?"

"It's your f.u.c.king mouth that's why. Every time you open it I want to-"

Maryanne's hand dropped from her hip. He glared but bit back the rest. It was pointless to continue. She, however, had no intention of letting it go. She looked on with a mix of anger and concern darkening her narrowed eyes. "What? What do you want to do? Hit me? You wouldn't dare!"

"Of course not." He dropped to the bed.

Maryanne put her hand over her eyes. A ploy or not, she looked as weary of the argument as he was. She paced before him for a few minutes. Then stopped, "I know you aren't interested in her. I know what this is really about."

"Let it the f.u.c.k go already." Cain rolled his neck, holding to the back of it with his hand. A headache formed at the base of his skull. Shockingly strong, it pulsed with lightening strikes of pain through his temples. He needed sleep, quiet and no more arguing. He needed for her to shut the f.u.c.k up. She came to him and stopped right before him, her eyes softening as well as her tone. "You did that to get my attention, didn't you?"

"You are clueless," he chuckled.

"d.a.m.n it, Cain! This isn't about us, our marriage. You know what it is."

"I'm going to shower." He tried to rise, but she stepped between his legs, pushing down by his shoulders to make him sit, again. "It's Joseph."

"What?"

"You'll have to face Joseph and tell him. Tell him what you did to keep your mother out of jail. You blame me but I had nothing to do with it. That was you, and that is what brought us here. The deal you made with Daddy, that was all on you."

"I thought I was fighting for the woman I loved. Both women that I loved. Guess I was wrong."

Maryanne nodded. "You love me. That's your problem. You hate your choices to keep me, to keep her. You hate the fact that you can't stop being our hero," she said with a triumphant smile. Cain closed his eyes. He exhaled deeply. The light finally went off in his head, the last bulb of hope he kept burning for them. With it went his desire for his marriage. Daddy's girl would forever be the center of her own universe. His woman, who once rebelled against all of it, was gone. The days of her sitting next to his late model Chevy talking about anything that popped in her head, while he sketched the dream home he intended to build by hand for them, was gone. So beautiful and sweet she was then. He used to just stare at her most nights, thinking himself the luckiest man in the world. It was gone. All gone, if it ever was. As soon as they both fell under Andrew Hollingsworth's shadow, it was over.

Now, what was she? Certainly not any different than the other executives' trophy wives. She wouldn't give him a baby, wouldn't submit to him in any way, nit-picked over everything, pouted, threatened and manipulated to have her way. It was always about her and her alone. Why he ever thought he could change her or them was beyond him. Yes, he took Andrew's bait. That was on him. His mother was securely planted in a mental health facility against her wishes. But he did it to save one broken woman and to rescue another. The joke was on him. Neither of these b.i.t.c.hes needed his rescuing.

Cain turned and went to the bed. He grabbed the pillow and yanked off the bed sheet. Maryanne threw her hands up in defeat. She crossed her arms and chuckled. "Here we go again. You get p.i.s.sed and you run away. So, you're sleeping in the guest room tonight?"

"No, you are." He pushed them both on her. Maryanne gasped. Taking her arm, he threw her out and slammed the door. Locking it, he ignored the pitiful pounding and cursing he heard as he headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Tonight he'd f.u.c.king get some sleep, no matter what.

The rain wouldn't stop. That meant there would be no gardening today. Simone paced before the long dinette table. It was more like a duck walk, thanks to the persistent sting in her sore ankle. The mug of tea warmed her palms. She cupped it carefully. Oh how she needed a distraction, any distraction to keep her mind free. Talking to Kim hadn't worked. Where was her clarity after all the c.r.a.p she'd been through? Where? Should she leave him? Leave her husband and start all over? After all this c.r.a.p, should she just walk away? Go back to the city, move in with Kim. She could be around her babies again. G.o.d, she really wanted children. Her uterus burned with longing for a baby. What would a baby bring to her marriage? Did he even want a baby? He said he did, but did he really?

Simone's hand dropped to her empty pelvis. She stroked it lovingly. At one time, the thought of babies consumed her, especially when Kim was pregnant. She shopped daily for the twins and planned everything down to the outfit they would wear home from the hospital. Her poor sister suffered such heartache near the delivery that Simone just fit right in.

Still it wasn't the same as carrying your own. She closed her eyes. Her barren uterus wasn't Keith's fault. Maybe not all of their problems were his. But he definitely deserved the lion's share. No matter the divide, her heart remained chained to the vows she'd made. Keith didn't think much of them, but she really meant them. She could remember the night before they married how she recited them over and over in the bathroom before the mirror. Their new life was the promise of her Camelot: the perfect husband, the perfect life, then kids, lots of kids. She would finally have the family she dreamed of on top of the roof of their apartment building staring at the moon. Such horses.h.i.t.

Simone sipped again, letting the bitter and the sweet roll into one, saturating her tongue before she was able to swallow. One thing was clear. She needed a break. Keith had risen early that morning. He woke Simone to open the door for him to change. He didn't even look her in the eye. Good. The a.s.shole was guilty of taking her for granted. Finally he got the message that she wouldn't put up with it. That or he just didn't care. She was beginning to not know the difference.

Her ankle hurt. She winced, turning back to the table where her laptop sat open. She could go into his office and use the computer, but decided against it. It smelled of his cologne and felt of him. Setting her mug down, she limped to the chair at the head of the table and eased into the seat. With the swipe of her finger across the mouse pad, the laptop screen blinked on. Simone stared at it. It was after 10 in the morning. He wouldn't be online. Would he?

The Google search window in her Safari browser was all there was. Simone rubbed the pad of her finger over the center square of her laptop and clicked on the instant messenger icon. She typed in a morning message. Just in case.

SimoneluvsSimone: Morning neighbor, rainy days make for no fun for us gardeners. What's a girl to do? :-) Cain reclined in his office chair, trying to focus. He nodded to his Director, but his eyes cut over to the screen when the presentation set them to watering with boredom. The Yahoo icon on the bottom tool bar blinked orange.

"Close my door on your way out," he said, sitting upright.

"I still have the report Mr. Livingston requested to review with you."

"Email it to me. I need to make some calls."

He left. Cain moved the mouse and clicked on the icon. Simone's message popped up. So she was up and wanted to play? He smirked, typing a response.

BigDaddyCain: How about we trade places? Would love to sit back and watch the rain today.

SimoneluvsSimone: I'm sure you are much too busy of a man for such idle behavior.

BigDaddyCain: Then I take it back. I'd rather sit there with you and watch the rain in a productive way.

He hit enter.

He waited.

And waited.

Was he being too forward? Yes. Though he doubted she saw him that way, something prideful made him hopeful. There was more to her. He had to know. Besides, what was the reason behind the moniker change? Now Simone loves Simone? That definitely had meaning.

SimoneluvsSimone: Funny, but that's why I was thinking of you. The rain. You seem like the kind of man that could enjoy it. Just like you enjoy my moon.

BigDaddyCain: I'm the kind of man that enjoys the woman more. 'This is a flirt'. You looked very beautiful last night.

SimoneluvsSimone: You're good for my ego.

BigDaddyCain: I'm good for other things too...

"Cain, got a minute?" Andrew Hollingsworth stuck his head in the door. Cain's head jerked up, eyes wide with surprise. "Working that hard, huh?" Andrew chuckled, coming inside and closing the door behind him.

BigDaddyCain: BRB!

He clicked off the messenger window, turning to face his father in-law. Andrew walked casually about his office, stopping to look at the graph for the new product launch that Cain's team had processed flowed out on his white board. He cut him a look with a sly smile. "So how is our boy doing so far?"

"Not sure what you mean?"

"Really?" Andrew turned and faced him. "I've heard of the meetings he's conducted, the financial audits of your division and the reporting he has your group doing. Very aggressive for our new executive."

"He's trying to understand the playbook."

"Exactly. The optimal word is 'trying'. We need to be careful of how successful he is," Andrew said. He walked over to Cain's desk, flipped open the lid to the cigar box that he himself gave Cain two years ago for Christmas. Cain detested cigar smoke. But he kept them there for Andrew, his lame attempt to remain one of the boys. His eyes slipped over to the computer monitor. The tool bar at the bottom of the screen blinked orange with a new message. How he itched to read what she wrote.

Andrew took his time firing up the cigar in his office. "So I have an idea what he's looking for."

"Okay?"

"The partners are on a witch hunt. They want to take the company public. That means a radical change in how we do business. They know I have most of the board behind me. They need me disgraced, removed. They think they can find the bones buried in my backyard."

Cain sighed. He looked back again to the screen. Was she still there waiting on his reply? Did she log off? f.u.c.k, would Andrew get on with it already? "What do you need?"

"Need to bury the Keemler deal. No traces. I need you, son, to do what you do best."

Cain said nothing. What was there to say? He had a special talent for dealing with Andrew Hollingsworth's dirty deeds. Of course his father in-law would call upon it now. Sooner or later, it would come down to Keemler. There goes his hope that Keith Livingston uncovered it on his own. "I'll look into it."

"Good. I hear you were working early this morning. Lloyd said you were logged into Oracle running reports around five?" Andrew leveled his eyes on him. Cain shrugged. Apparently Keith had used his log in and got into the system. What he didn't know was that Andrew was keeping tabs on everyone's access at this time. He should have.

"Yeah, he keeps wanting to know the burn rate against the budget. He's asked for us to present the production road map for the next fiscal year." He nodded to the white board. "Just doing what is needed."

"Well, keep your eye on him. He's getting closer to you. He's bound to show his hand soon." Andrew rose. He put the cigar out on the Tiffany ashtray. "Got a call from princess this morning. She's really upset."

"I won't discuss my marriage with you, Andrew."

He chuckled. "I'm just a concerned father. Cain, trust me. I know how it is. She's a handful like her mother. Unfortunately, neither of us have time to baby our girl. I need you free of distractions. Here's the plan."

Cain sat back, staring up at his father in-law.

"After the party for the Livingstons, I'm sending her and Bonnie to Paris. Let them do some shopping for the upcoming holiday. That will give you a week or two to cool off. Get perspective. Besides, I need you at the top of your game with Livingston. How's that?"

"Do what you want. You will either way."

"How's your mother?"

"You know how she is," Cain snapped.

Andrew nodded. "See you in the staff meeting in an hour. Play nice with Maryanne. She's delicate and maybe carrying my future grandson?" He smiled and walked out. Cain's nose twitched as he sneered back. s.n.a.t.c.hing the Tiffany ashtray, he tossed it in the wastebasket. When he turned back to the computer, he immediately brought up the messenger window.

SimoneluvsSimone: Okay, well you're working. I'll let you get to it. Maybe see you tonight at Bunco? Talk to you later. Bye. :-) Bunco? So she was coming over tonight? He had to work late. Just as well. Maryanne was right. It was becoming blatantly obvious how he felt for the lovely Mrs. Livingston. That could only bring them both trouble.

Simone lowered the lid to her laptop after re-reading his words twice. Okay, this was no longer a pa.s.sing flirt. She was actually crossing the line. Sitting back, she thought of her husband and his affair. Is this how it started? When something was missing and lacking you gravitate to another? She had been a good wife. Too good. She had also been silent like he wanted her and supportive in everything he needed. Their s.e.x life was always about pleasing him. How could he need more from another woman? Especially if she was the one he said he loved.

The phone rang. It lay flat on the black cherry wood of the dining table. She picked it up to find Keith's number. Part of her wanted to ignore it. But he'd just keep calling back. "h.e.l.lo, Keith."

"I thought you wouldn't answer," he gave a nervous chuckle.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"Wanted to know if I'm still in the doghouse?"

Simone didn't answer. This wasn't a doghouse. No, Keith, her beloved husband, was in the outhouse. She had no intention of letting this go.

"Look, babe. I had a chance to think it over. I'm really sorry about Stacy. She's been calling, yes. But I've told her over and over that-"

"It doesn't matter, Keith. It's not about Stacy."

"It's not?"

"No. And when I'm ready to give you the clue you seem to be so oblivious to we'll talk. Right now I don't want to talk to you. Okay?"

"Simone?"

"Not sure what time you're coming home, but I've accepted the invite from the Gatlins for a game of Bunco tonight, so be sure to pick yourself up a box of chicken on your way in."

"Wait? You're going? I thought-"

"What? That I'd abandon you? Not help you in your little mission in Castle Rock? Not play the dutiful wife even though I'll have to wear a sweater to cover my bruises?"

"Bruises, babe. I'm so sorry."

"Save it. I'm not like you. I honor my commitments. Don't call again today. I'd rather not have to go through the trouble of ignoring you." She turned the phone off and set it back down. Dropping back on her chair, she hugged herself. She had been honest. It wasn't about him. Not really. This time it was about her, and the change she was feeling. Did it mean that she was ready to leave her marriage? She wasn't sure. But for the first time, the thought of doing so didn't terrify her.

Cain heard his boss curse and slam down the receiver of the phone before his knuckles. .h.i.t the wood. He knocked once more for good measure to be sure he was heard.

"Come in," Keith barked.

Cain looked back to the secretary who peeked up from her gla.s.ses. Then he entered. Keith Livingston didn't appear to be as confident as he did the last time he saw him. In fact, for a black man, he sure could turn a deep shade of red when embarra.s.sed.

"Just who I wanted to see," he said. "Close the door."

Cain did as he was told and stepped over to his boss's desk. "Something wrong?"

"Women. My wife is the most spoiled ungrateful b.i.t.c.h."

Cain's brow arched. "Really?"

Keith shook his head. "You know what I mean. You put all the time in getting them trained and then something distracts them, and you got to start all over again." He waved it off. "Never mind that. I have good news."

"Okay?"

"Keemler Commodities. I just uncovered the smoking gun. I got off the phone with New York. They want more details. All I have are the financials, but I can't figure out what Project O.P.A.L. was. It says you were lead?"