A Woman's Revenge Read online

  I waited until I heard the person stick their key in their door, open it, and go inside. When the door closed behind them, I slowly tiptoed back down the hall. Just as I was about to pass the door, it swung open and the person stepped out, directly into my path.

  Her eyes flew open at the same time mine did. I stood staring into her face. She stood there, staring back at mine.

  “Sabrina?” she finally said.

  I nodded. “Mama . . .”

  Chapter Five

  “Or should I say Roxie.” I called my mother by her first name as I always had. We stood there staring at each other for what felt like hours. I was paralyzed by shock and anger. She looked surprised and guilty.

  I looked down at her hands. One held a manila envelope with her name, Roxanne St. James, typed in a familiar bold font. The other hand held a familiar stack of pictures. The picture of Blake hugging me in his office was on top.

  So Christine had left here from meeting with Roxie, rather than confronting Blake.

  “Sabrina . . . I . . .” Roxie looked down at the photo and up at me with this sad look in her eyes. She reached out a hand to touch my face.

  “Don’t you dare touch me.” I slapped her hand away.

  She looked up and down the hall. “Sabrina, I had no idea—”

  “Don’t you even talk to me!” My voice was growing louder.

  “Keep your voice down, young lady. Do you want—”

  I snapped. I gathered up all the hatred I had for her from the last twelve years and mixed it with the hatred I now had for Blake and lunged at her. She dropped the pictures, grabbed my arm, and jerked me inside her condo. She closed the door behind her.

  I screamed and lunged at her again. Roxie dodged out of my way and I ended up hitting the door. I felt my wrist slam and pain shot up my arm, which made me even madder. I reached into my purse and pulled out the larger of the two knives and lunged at her again.

  I found myself on the ground, face down, with Roxie’s hand gripping my bruised wrist and her knee in the middle of my back. “Have you lost your got-durned mind?” Her smoky voice uttered the phrase my grandmother used to use on those early mornings when Roxie came sneaking in the house from doing God knows what in the streets all night.

  Her words stilled me for a second, then broke me. I let out one last scream. “I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you . . .”

  I burst into loud sobs, lying right there in the middle of her foyer floor. Roxie slowly pulled the knife out of my hand and I lay there, face down, crying for what seemed like forever. It was all too much: finding out the truth about Blake, realizing I was losing everything, then running smack dab into the one person I hated on Planet Earth with everything in me. It was enough to make me lose my mind.

  I finally sat up and dragged myself over to the door and lay back against it.

  Roxie peered at my face. “For years, I’ve dreamed of the day when I would get to see you again.” She let out a low chuckle. “I have to say, this isn’t quite how I imagined it would be.”

  I reached into my purse, fishing for the other knife. Maybe, just maybe, I would have good enough aim to put it through her eyeball.

  She held up the knife. “Looking for this?” She shook her head, a perplexed look on her face. “Did you come over here to kill me?”

  I gritted my teeth. “No. I came over here to cut Blake. You were going to be a bonus. A big bonus.”

  She chuckled again. “Wow. And Christine said you were a sweet little innocent church girl. You certainly had her fooled.”

  “I was a sweet little innocent church girl until I found out that my fiancé had been sleeping with my long-lost mother.”

  The laughter left her eyes and a pained look appeared in them. “Sabrina, honey, I’m so sorry about all this. I didn’t know you and Blake . . . I never meant to hurt you.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Never meant to hurt me? Really? Since when? Since when did you start to care even a little bit about the way I felt?”

  She opened her mouth to protest but then bit her lip. She let out a deep breath. “It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I always cared. It was just that—”

  “Save it, Roxie. ’Cause I don’t care anymore either.”

  We sat there in silence for a few minutes, me with my anger and hatred, her with her guilt and regrets.

  She finally spoke. “So if you were here to cut him, what were you doing on my floor? How did you even know where I lived? Christine said she didn’t give you that information.”

  “She told me you lived in the building. I didn’t know this was your floor. I came up here because I was trying to . . .” There was no way I was going to let her further humiliate me by letting her know I had no direct access to the penthouse.

  She pursed her lips and I knew she knew. I pushed myself up off the floor and picked up my purse. All the fire I had in me had drained out and now I only wanted to go home and get in my bed. I wanted to sleep until they evicted me from my apartment. Or maybe I would just sleep until I died.

  Roxie held the knives out toward me. “I could get you upstairs. But honestly, a stabbing would be too kind for a man like Blake Harrison. He needs to die a slow, painful death.”

  “How?” I took the knives out of her hand and shoved them back into my purse.

  She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together, thinking. “Yes. That is the question.”

  She spun on her heels and walked farther into her apartment. Intrigued by any thoughts she had on how to make Blake suffer, I followed her.

  My mouth gaped as I entered her living area. It was a beautiful space, elegantly decorated. She had a creamy white leather sofa and loveseat with a thick, white area rug covering her polished hardwood floors. She had what looked like expensive art and exotic-looking foreign stuff she probably had bought on her travels all over the world.

  “Looks like Mr. St. James actually taught you some class, Roxie. You really came up in the world. Where is he by the way? Did you run off and abandon him, too?”

  She rubbed her hands together, staring down at the floor. “I guess I deserve that. My husband died five years ago.”

  I guessed I was supposed to say I was sorry, but I wasn’t. The only person I hated more than Roxie was the man who had stolen her away from me. Who had rejected me as his daughter and forced my mother to choose which one of us she loved more. He had won twelve years ago and I had hated him since.

  She stood there looking like she wanted to apologize again. Before she could open her mouth, I spoke. “So, a slow, painful death. What’s your plan?”

  It was the only reason I was still here. I didn’t want to go back and hash out things from our past. I didn’t want her to apologize and explain and ask forgiveness. I just wanted to make Blake Harrison pay for the way he had hurt me. After that was accomplished, I planned never to see her again.

  Roxie pulled a cigarette out of a pack, tapped it, and then stuck it in her mouth. She had never been allowed to smoke at Grandma’s house and I wondered when she had picked up the habit. She lit it and took a long deep breath, her eyes squinted the whole time like she was deep in thought.

  She finally said, “Christine said you’re his personal assistant or something?”

  “Executive assistant,” I hissed.

  She waved a wisp of smoke away from her face. “Yes, whatever. So you work closely with him at that prestigious law firm of his? You know the daily ins and outs of his work schedule, colleagues, cases, all that stuff?”

  I nodded impatiently. “Yes, of course. That’s what executive assistants do.” Her snide “whatever” had stung a little.

  “Good.” A broad smile spread across her face. “Very good.”

  I frowned. “Good? What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Just let me take care of all this, hear? The less you know the better.”

  I stood there with a confused look on my face. Roxie disappeared into another room and came back with a legal pad and a pen. She
sat down on the couch and motioned for me to sit down next to her. “I need some very specific information. I want you to think hard and give it to me clear, okay?”

  I nodded, still not sure of what she had in mind. For the next thirty minutes, she grilled me on details of our workplace, Blake’s schedule, different people who worked in the office. I gave her all the information she asked for, including my contact information. It didn’t matter that she had my cell number since I would be getting a new phone with a new number when our dealings were done. And my office number wouldn’t matter because I wouldn’t be working for Blake anymore. After this was all over, she’d have no way of getting in touch with me.

  She finally laid the pad and the pen down. “That should just about do it. If I think of anything else, I’ll contact you.”

  “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Go home; get some good sleep to get rid of those dreadful bags under your eyes. Go to church tomorrow and repent for almost cutting your fiancé and your poor mother . . .” She chuckled and I gave her a look that could kill. “And then go to work Monday morning like this weekend never happened.”

  “Work? I can’t go to work Monday. I don’t ever want to see Blake Harrison again.”

  Roxie smiled and gently laid a hand on my arm. “Oh, but you can and you must. You have to become the world’s best actress because he can’t suspect anything’s wrong between the two of you. You have to work like you’ve always worked and pretend like you still love him and think he’s the most amazing thing that ever lived.”

  A sad look crossed into Roxie’s eyes as she stared at my face. Last thing I needed was her feeling sorry for me because I got my heart broken. I stood and walked to her door.

  “I’ll try as hard as I can. It’s hard to pretend you love somebody when you really want to stab them in the throat.”

  Roxie chuckled. “Just give me a couple of weeks. I promise it will be well worth it.”

  I gave her one last look, trying to figure out whether I should believe her. What if she was just another woman trying to get rid of me so she could have Blake to herself? What if this was all a scam she and Christine set up to make me lose the best thing that ever happened to me?

  “Sabrina, I know I’ve never given you any reason to trust me. But trust me on this.” The evil twinkle in Roxie’s eyes made me shiver. “By the time I’m finished with Blake Harrison, he won’t be hurting any mother’s pretty little daughter. Ever again.”

  Chapter Six

  I spent the rest of the weekend in bed, crying and sleeping. I couldn’t bring myself to go to church. Monday morning, I got up and got myself dressed for work like I always did. I couldn’t imagine how I could possibly make it through the day without Blake suspecting that I knew what I knew. How was I supposed to act like I still loved him? Follow his orders like I actually respected him? Be peaceful and calm like I hadn’t thought of at least a hundred ways to murder him?

  I arrived right at 8:00 A.M., the time I was paid to arrive at work but an hour later than when I usually got there. I had barely put my purse in my file drawer when Blake barged out of his office.

  “Where have you been?” He looked down at his watch. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  I pulled out my lunch bag and put it into the small refrigerator behind my desk. “What are you talking about? It’s eight o’clock. I’m here.” I batted my eyelashes a few times.

  “Sabrina, you knew we needed to go over the Foster deposition first thing this morning and that I also needed the Connor files sent out. And you show up at . . .” Blake must have noticed a few heads from neighboring offices turning in our direction. “Sabrina, can I see you in my office, please?”

  I could tell it took everything in him not to slam the door behind me. “You knew we had things to take care of this morning and you come traipsing in here late like you don’t even care. I hope you haven’t let Friday night go to your head. You still work for me and I still expect you to do your job.” He started shuffling papers around on his desk and muttered under his breath. “I knew I shouldn’t have given you that ring until I made partner.”

  I clenched my teeth real tight and made myself take a couple of deep breaths.

  He lowered his voice. “And where were you all weekend? I’ve been calling and texting you since Saturday evening and you haven’t answered at all. Where have you been?”

  The anger in his voice sent a chill up my spine. I had seen this side of him when things didn’t go his way with a case or when he felt like someone was disrespecting him in the office, but it had never been directed at me. At least not this bad.

  I looked down at the ground. “I was sick all weekend. Still not feeling well today really.”

  “So sick that you couldn’t answer my phone calls?”

  “My phone broke over the weekend. I didn’t feel well enough to go out to get a new one.” It wasn’t like I was lying. My phone did break. And I was sick. So sick of him and his lies. And he knew I opted for a cell phone only instead of having a land line, so that wasn’t an option.

  “You didn’t think to call me?”

  I frowned. “We never talk on weekends, Blake. You’re either traveling or . . . busy.” I had a sour taste in my mouth just thinking about it.

  He frowned as if he was trying to figure out if that was true. He finally came over and put his hands on my shoulders. “Well, of course that’s going to change. After all, we are engaged, right?”

  I bit my lip and nodded. Christine must have broken it off with him for good, so now he figured his weekends would be free. I wanted to rip his head off. I pulled away from him. “Right. I’ll go ahead and get those files off and the deposition notes printed. Don’t you have a meeting?”

  “Do I?”

  I walked over to his desk and grabbed the files I knew he would need for the meeting. I placed them in his hands and pushed him toward the door. “Yes. You need to review these files and you have a new client who’ll be in the conference room in twenty minutes.”

  He gave me that admiring look that now made my stomach turn. “What would I do without you?”

  I adjusted his tie and patted his shoulder. “I don’t know, Blakey. I just don’t know.”

  It was true. I didn’t know how Blake functioned before I came into his life. I kept his schedule completely organized, both personally and professionally. Made sure his dry cleaning was done and delivered. Bought and mailed both his sisters’ birthday and Christmas presents. I did the grocery shopping for his cook to make sure she had all his favorite foods. And once a month, I baked his favorite German chocolate cake that, according to him, tasted better than his mama’s.

  I had made myself completely indispensable as a personal assistant, and had presented myself as a perfect candidate for the perfect wife.

  Or so I thought.

  I walked back out to my desk and slowly sat down. I thought of all those faces in all those pictures. Everything I had done wasn’t enough. He was just using me. To make partner and to keep his life in perfect order. How could I have thought that he loved me? I ran to the bathroom before the tears started falling down my face.

  I went into the last stall and locked the door behind me so I could think for a minute. Why had he bothered to propose? I was giving him everything he wanted and needed without any promise of anything in return.

  Well . . . almost everything. Did he propose because I said I wouldn’t have sex with him without a ring? I remembered how angry he got when I said he couldn’t come upstairs the night of our proposal. So he just bought me a ring so he could have sex with me? Seemed like a high price to pay when he was getting it free from so many other places.

  I thought about talk shows I had seen where they talked about how men enjoyed the hunt. They would do whatever it took to get a woman in bed and then, afterward, they had no use for her. And the more a woman held out, the more they wanted her. Was that all I was to Blake? A challenge?

  T
he more I thought about it, the sicker I felt. There was no way I could work the rest of the day. I came out of the bathroom stall and washed and dried my face. When I got back to my desk, I jotted Blake a brief note saying that, just as I had explained, I still wasn’t feeling well and needed to go home. He would have a fit when he found out. He might as well get used to me not being around to make sure his life ran smoothly.

  On the way home, I had to resist the urge to call Janine. I missed my best friend so much and really needed to talk to her. But it would be terrible to call her after dropping her for Blake now that it was clear Blake and I wouldn’t be together. I thought of all my friends I had dropped for Blake. I wondered what it would be like to try to go back with my tail tucked between my legs now that everything they had said about him had proved to be true. There was no way I could do that. I would just have to depend on God to get me through this.

  And I’d have to depend on Roxie to get revenge. And boy would she. I thought of the boyfriends who had pissed her off when we were growing up in Grandma’s house together like sisters rather than mother and daughter. When they said that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, they were talking about Roxie. A pot of boiling hot grits was child’s play in her book. Her revenge was diabolical. For a minute, I almost felt sorry for Blake.

  ’Cause he was about to get it.

  Chapter Seven

  It had been over a week and still nothing from Roxie. No phone calls, e-mail, or signs of anything that would make Blake Harrison die a slow, painful death. Roxie had done it to me again. Made a bunch of promises that she had no plans of keeping. And I had fallen for it. Again.

  The one thing Roxie had done for me was to keep me from doing something crazy and dangerous the day I had those knives in my purse. Maybe that was all God wanted it to be. To keep me from messing up my future. Not that I had much of a future without a man like Blake Harrison in my life.

  Over the course of the week, my anger had dulled down to a numb pain. I no longer wanted to cut Blake. It was time to decide what to do next. I had been doing a pretty good job all week of faking like nothing was wrong, but it was getting played.