High Stakes by Fern Michaels

Author:Fern Michaels [Michaels, Fern]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-06-26T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Pilar sat at the round table in the breakfast nook, her hands folded in front of her, her eyes on the wilted flowers in the center. She remembered how she used to sit like this when she was a little girl in school. She worked her fingers the way she had back then, kneading them, twisting them one way, then the other, cracking her knuckles simply to hear a sound in the quiet kitchen. A small sigh escaped her lips when she saw that the bloodred polish on her thumbnail was chipped. She wondered how and when that had happened. Then she looked down at her feet and noticed she was barefoot. She frowned as she struggled with her memory. What happened to her shoes? Did she lose them? Obviously, she had, since she wasn’t wearing them. She made a mental note to file a complaint with her insurance company, since she’d paid twelve hundred dollars for the designer stilettos. Way too much money to throw away. She hated insurance companies for the way they bilked people. Finally, she would get something back on all those outrageous premiums she paid out year after year. She loved those shoes.

Pilar looked around, her eyes half glazed, her stomach in knots. Her gaze finally settled on the digital clock on the range. She grimaced. Gabe should be back by now. That was the precise moment when she realized Gabe wasn’t coming back. Ever. She had just refused to believe it at first, so she had sat here and waited. And waited. And then waited some more.

She’d sent texts. She’d called. Not one had been answered. She vaguely remembered crying, pleading, then, to her horror, begging. When that didn’t work, and there was no response, she’d gotten downright ugly, saying things she didn’t mean. Nothing had worked. Gabe was gone, and she knew it. She had had her chance, and she’d blown it. Now she was alone, with the devil’s own disciples hot on her trail.

Her eyes wandered to the digital clock again. So much time had gone by. It was almost midnight. The witching hour. What did that mean? Was something supposed to happen at the witching hour? Ha! It had already happened. Her husband was gone. He’d left her. Coward that he was. She’d called him that, too. And his response had been that he’d rather be a coward than a fool who was going to go to prison for the rest of his life. He’d stalked off, saying he was a smart coward. It was true, she supposed. The thought left her numb.

Pilar’s chipped thumbnail drew her attention again. She wondered if she would be able to get an emergency appointment at the Nail Emporium in the morning. Maybe if she came up with some outrageous story, like she was going to a luncheon at the White House, they would take her in. What was one more lie on her chart of life?

Pilar had to literally pull her hands apart, because they were clenched so tight.

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