Donna Hill - If I Were Your Woman

“You’re biased.”

“Could be.” She got an apple from the veggie tray and took a bite. “I’m starved. Are we going out or do you want me to fix us something?”

“That’s the other reason for my call. I know this is late notice, but I was hoping maybe we could make it tomorrow night. I’m really beat.”

Stephanie frowned. “Oh. Okay. Sure.” She waited a beat. “I guess that means you’re not coming by tonight either.”

“If you really want me to I can, but I wouldn’t be much good.” He feigned a yawn.

“You sound tired. Listen, it’s no big deal. Get some rest and we can get together tomorrow.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I know you will. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Are you going to be around?”

“I do have an appointment in the morning. After that I’ll be at the spa.”

“I’ll call you after lunch and we can decide what we want to do then.”

“Sounds good.”

He yawned again.

“I’m hanging up before you fall asleep on me.”

“I’m sorry. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Rest well.”

“Thanks.” He disconnected the call.

Tony stood there with the phone in his hand. He was going to have to tell her sooner or later about Joy. But when he did, he knew it would mean becoming something that he couldn’t—a father. He hadn’t accepted his role in five years and he didn’t think he would anytime soon.

Stephanie meandered into her bedroom, plopped down on her bed, and aimed the remote at the television. A stream of images flashed in front of her as she aimlessly surfed. She finally settled on a Lifetime episode, Presumed Innocent.

It was probably best that Tony hadn’t come by, she thought. She didn’t want to have to tell him about Marilyn’s phone call because without a doubt Tony would be a man and feel that he must fix it. And fix it would be calling the police.

It was Tony who’d finally convinced her to take out the restraining order in the first place. He’d even driven her to the courthouse.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized what a good guyTony Dixon was. He was caring, sexy as all hell, talented, funny, could outcook her with his eyes closed, and most of all he was honest. That’s what she appreciated the most.

She’d lived a life of deceit for two years with Conrad. She lied to herself, lied to her friends. No more. As a matter of fact, first thing tomorrow she was going to tell Tony what happened.

The scene on the television caught her attention.

It was Bonnie Bedilia facing her on-screen husband, Harrison Ford, as she calmly, dispassionately explained to him why she had no choice but to murder his mistress. She never thought that he would get blamed for it.

Stephanie felt a jolt and aimed the remote, finally landing on Home Shopping Network. She shook her head. She was being silly, totally overreacting. She glanced at the phone next to the bed, reached for it, and took it off the hook.

When her doorbell suddenly rang a half hour later, her already stiff spine nearly snapped in half. She scrambled from the bed and darted up front to the intercom. Her mind raced through a montage of scenarios—all of which ended with a showdown between her and Marilyn and her winding up on the eleven o’clock news.

Stephanie pressed Talk. “Who?”

“Why you not answering ya damned phone?”

She released a sigh of relief. She buzzed the lobby door. Moments later Ann Marie was standing at her front door with a bottle tucked under her arm.

“How do you know I’m not busy?” Stephanie challenged as Ann Marie, barely reaching Stephanie’s shoulder, brushed by her.

“If you were, you wouldn’t have answered your door either.” She winked at Stephanie, took off her coat, and muttered something about the growing cold outside, then proceeded to make herself comfortable on the couch. “So…did you tell him?”

Stephanie averted her gaze. “No. I would have…maybe…but he was too tired to come over tonight. I figured it could wait.”

“Hmm,” Ann Marie murmured. “No more calls?”

“No.”

“Good. I know you may not like this, but I spoke to Sterling about it.”

Sterling Chambers was the man who finally captured the tough heart of Ann Marie Dennis and forever wrenched her away from the memory of her ex-husband, Terrance Bishop.

Stephanie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t you keep anything secret from that man?”

Ann Marie grinned. “Only where I learned some of my bedroom tricks.” She winked.

“You are terrible.” She sat down. “Well, since you spilled the beans, what did your live-in attorney say?”

“’Im say a restraining order is only a piece of paper and if someone really wants to get to a person a piece of paper won’t stop them.”

Stephanie’s brows rose and fell. “Gee, that’s comforting,” she said, full of sarcasm.

“That’s why me stop by, won’ make sure you’re okay.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“’Im also say, when a piece of paper fail, boyfriends, big brothers, and fathers can make a difference.”

“That lets me out on all counts…except for the boyfriend part. But I don’t want Tony going around threatening anyone.”

“No brothers?”

“No. Just me and Samantha.”

“What about your dad? I never hear you talk about ’im.”

Stephanie drew herself up. “Nothing to talk about, really. He’s been gone so long that if he ran me over with a truck I wouldn’t know who he was.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s been a long time. He was never in my life.”

“It’s hard on boys not having their pops, but it’s hard on girls, too.” She smiled sadly. “Your pops is a girl’s first love. I know not having her pop around affected Raquel. For years I felt guilty about taking her away from Jamaica and her family there. But it was either save myself or turn my soul over to Terrance. I chose to save my soul.”

“I always wondered if the decisions I’d made about men and relationships had anything to do with not having a father around.”

Ann Marie shrugged. “Could be.”

“Well, I’d prefer not to travel down that particular memory lane. What’s in the bag?”

Ann Marie took out the bottle of Alize and put it ceremoniously on the center of the smoked-glass coffee table. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“Let me break out the glasses.”

They shared a couple of glasses of wine and chatted about inconsequential things and about getting together on Friday before Ann Marie announced that she needed to be getting home.

Stephanie walked her to the door. “Thanks, Ann.”

Ann Marie looked up at Stephanie. “For what?”

“For coming by, bringing wine, being a friend.”

Ann Marie waved her hand. “Oh, chile, please, I was in the neighborhood and Sterling only drinks cognac.”

Stephanie smiled, knowing the truth behind the words. Ann Marie was really a good person beneath her tough girl exterior.

“Tell him I said hello.”

Ann Marie waved and walked out. Stephanie slowly closed the door. With the impromptu visit from Ann, the two glasses of wine, and mindless girl talk, she found herself actually feeling relaxed for the first time since she woke up. Maybe she’d get a good night’s sleep after all.

She turned out the lights in the front of the apartment and walked off toward her bedroom.

A light snow had begun to fall. From the car parked out front, he watched the lights go out. He’d seen Ann Marie when she went in, watched her leave, and assumed that Stephanie was now alone. He knew he shouldn’t have come here. He had no right, not after everything that had happened. Stephanie had every right to hate him. All he wanted was a chance to make things right between them—when the time was right. He’d learned how to be patient.