Chapter 18 Natalie #2
She’d bucked and writhed as he held her head down with one hand and pushed her skirt up with the other. He forced his body
between her legs, pinning her with his weight.
She shouted for him to stop. Tried to twist her head so she could bite his hand. He’d just sniggered and tugged at her blouse,
ripping off all the delicate pearl buttons at once. His meaty fingers had yanked at her bra, then grabbed one of her breasts.
He squeezed her soft flesh with such force that she’d whimpered in pain.
“You know you want it,” he’d growled, flecking her ear with spittle. “I’ve seen how you shake your tight ass and your perfect
titties under that lab coat. I’ve seen you smile at me. No more playing around, baby. I’ve got what you want right here.”
She’d elbowed him as hard as she could, right in his paunch. Then she’d reared back, clocking his face with the top of her
head. She freed her legs and ran out of the building, leaving him with a bloody nose and a deflating erection.
Her hands were shaking so badly that it had taken her three tries to unlock her car. When she finally got in and started the
engine, she’d kept expecting to see Ken Hoffman in her rearview mirror. As she drove away and the lab receded behind her,
she hadn’t known if she could ever go back.
Ken Hoffman had made the choice for her. After all, she’d dared refuse a man who always got what he wanted.
Get a grip. You’re not that naive girl from Wisconsin anymore, Natalie told herself as she backed out of the garage.
She needed to be sharp today. She was meeting with new clients this morning, a young couple looking to relocate from Queens.
They had two young children and wanted a house with a yard in a good school district. The husband was a doctor, but they were
on a tight budget as he had taken out two loans to pay for college and medical school.
It had been a stroke of good luck that Natalie had answered the office phone when Dr. Sherif called earlier in the week.
She should’ve transferred the call to Rick. His was the next name on the sales board, but he’d already gone under contract
on two houses and would be closing on a third before the end of the month.
The spaces next to Natalie’s name were still blank, so she took down Dr. Sherif’s information and promised to dedicate herself
toward finding him the perfect home. He seemed pleased by her enthusiasm and asked for a meeting to review current listings
in their price range.
She already knew that there were only two houses available in the good school district, and one of them was very close to
the train tracks. The McCreedy house was in a lovely, family-friendly neighborhood. Natalie just had to convince Dr. and Mrs.
Sherif that it was the house for them.
Just yesterday, Gina had bragged that her cape would be under contract by the end of the week, so Natalie saw no reason to
include it in the listings she planned to show the Sherifs. Instead, she compiled homes for sale at much higher prices than
the McCreedy house in an effort to make her listing more attractive.
Her meeting with the Sherifs was scheduled for ten o’clock, so Natalie had plenty of time to swing by the bakery to pick up some Lebanese cookies.
She didn’t know where Dr. Sherif was originally from, but she knew an Arabic accent when she heard one.
When she’d lived in the Village, there were several Turkish families on her floor and the men sounded just like Dr. Sherif.
Even if he’s not impressed by the cookies, his wife will be, she thought as she drove slowly up the driveway. Tramp was outside and had a terrible habit of chasing their cars to the
street.
At the top of her driveway, she paused, distracted by a slash of red to her left.
Glancing at Mrs. Smith’s house, Natalie saw a sports car parked in front of Mrs. Smith’s door. Not on the curb outside the
electric gate, but right in front of the house.
Natalie recognized the car. It was Don’s garnet-red Aston Martin.
“What the hell?”
She hit the brakes and stared at Don’s empty car. He wasn’t in the car or on the front porch, so where was he?
He’s inside. With her.
She waited a few minutes to see if he’d come out. When he didn’t, she wondered if she should knock on Elaine’s door and tell
her about Don, but she couldn’t risk being late. She had important things to do today.
The bakery. The meeting with the Sherifs. Selling the McCreedy house.
Natalie hit the gas and drove up the winding road. When it flattened out near the top, she pulled into Beth’s driveway. She
shoved the column shifter into Park, left the engine running, and raced to the front door.
She pounded on the thick wood. “Beth! Are you there? It’s Natalie!”
She knew it took Beth forever to get ready in the mornings and wouldn’t be surprised if her friend was still in the shower or lingering at her vanity while she painted her nails or nursed a cup of coffee.
“Beth!” Natalie jabbed the doorbell three times in succession. If that didn’t convey urgency, she didn’t know what would.
Finally, the door cracked. Natalie caught a glimpse of Beth’s swollen, tear-streaked face and immediately reached out for
her friend.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Don.” Beth’s voice was hollow. Her eyes were red-rimmed. “We had an appointment at nine. At St. Mary’s, a Catholic orphanage.
We were going to meet with one of the sisters so she could take us on a tour and introduce us to some of the children. Don
doesn’t want to adopt, I know he doesn’t, but he said he’d go. For me. He said he’d go.”
“So, what happened?”
Beth leaned her head against the door frame. “The phone rang an hour ago. I was still in bed, but Don picked it up in the
kitchen. He talked to someone for a minute or two and then he took a shower and got dressed. I thought he was getting ready
for our appointment, so I got up, too. I was happy, you know? I was so excited to see the kids, but I could tell Don wasn’t.
He looked mad.”
Nothing new there, Natalie thought.
“And?” she prompted.
Beth seemed to shrink. “He said that my only job was to give him a baby, and I’d failed. He said he wasn’t going to raise
another man’s bastard kid—that he’d be better off finding a new wife. Then he left.”
“Oh, honey. No wonder you’re upset.” Natalie rubbed Beth’s arm. “Did you see which way he went?”
“What do you mean? He has work. He— Wait. Do you know where he is?”
“I saw his car as I was leaving my house. It’s parked across the street.”
Color leeched from Beth’s face and Natalie hurried to slip an arm around her in case she fainted.
“He’s with her?”
Natalie hated hurting her friend, but she couldn’t lie.
“His car is there. That’s all I know. Maybe he’s dropping off paperwork for the Porsche or something.”
Beth stared at her like she was an idiot. “You didn’t see him in the driveway, did you? They weren’t out there, chatting about
the car. She doesn’t come out. That means he’s inside her house. Isn’t he?”
It was impossible to believe. No one in the neighborhood had laid eyes on Mrs. Smith, let alone stepped foot in her home.
And yet, where else could he be?
“I told you. She has some kind of hold on him,” Beth murmured. “She has . . . power.”
It was a strange thing to say, but no stranger than the idea of Mrs. Smith wanting something from Don. Loud, brash, uncouth
Don. It was beyond comprehension.
Beth’s next-door neighbor tooted his horn in greeting as he drove by. As Natalie gave him a perfunctory wave, she noticed
the time. She needed to go, but Beth looked so gutted that she didn’t see how she could leave her on her own.
“You’ll work this out,” she said. “All couples go through rough patches. Don loves you.”
Her words carried no conviction, and Beth didn’t bother responding.
You have a client meeting, said the devil on Natalie’s shoulder.
You can’t leave her like this, said her better angel.
Yes, you can. You need to sell the McCreedy house.
She’s your friend.
Your name isn’t on the sales board. Sid said the market dies in August, and August isn’t far away. Get on the board, or your
career will die, too.
An image of her Electrolux, sitting in the laundry closet like a leashed dog waiting to be walked, flashed in Natalie’s mind.
“I’m really sorry, Beth, but I have to go. As soon as Don comes back, he’ll tell you why he was at Mrs. Smith’s. I’m sure
it was just about the car. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Natalie tried to give her friend a quick hug, but Beth retreated into the shadows of her foyer. She stood straight as an arrow,
her arms pinned to her side. Her eyes were two pinpricks shining out of the gloom. She looked hollowed out. She looked like
a ghost.
Staring at her friend, all the tiny hairs on the back of Natalie’s neck stood on end. “Is there anything I can do?”
Beth shook her head once and then slammed the door in Natalie’s face.