Midas Touch by Frankie J. Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

photographer. She came by to take my photo and…
    and…”
    “Four minutes,” Sandra said, feeling made of stone.
    “You can’t do this! You can’t make me leave. This is my home, too.”“You signed away your title when you let that bitch crawl between your legs,” Sandra spat. “You’re down to three minutes.
    Unless you want to walk through the lobby as you are now, I suggest you start dressing.”
    Ingrid slid from the bed and began to dress with slow deliberation. Sandra tore away from Carol and crossed the room to where Carol’s purse sat on the dresser. She began to dig through it.

    “What are you doing?” Carol demanded.
    “I’m taking my car keys and my credit cards.”
    “What am I supposed to do?” Carol wailed.
    “You can either crawl back to Daddy, live with the love of your life there,” she said, pointing to Ingrid. “Or you can get a job.” She glared at Carol, who stood naked before her. The initial shock was wearing off, and Carol’s anger was building.
    “You can’t do this to me,” she insisted. Her voice shook as she continued. “I’ll sue you for everything you have.”
    “No, you won’t. You’d have to admit you’re a lesbian. What would Daddy do then?”
    Carol’s arm swung up to slap her. Sandra caught it and pushed it aside. Carol grabbed a suit from her closet and began to dress.
    As soon asshe pulled the skirt and blouse on, Sandra threw the purse to her.
    “Get out of my house and take your trash with you,” she said, tilting her head to indicate Ingrid.
    “You’ll be sorry” Carol hissed.
    “I’ve been sorry for years,” Sandra countered. She waited until she heard the front door slam before she reached for the telephone and called the building security guard.
    “Hello, Richard. This is Sandra Tate. Ms. Grant no longer resides here. She should be leaving the building in a few seconds.
    She’s not to be allowed back in under any circumstances.”
    It took Sandra three telephone calls to get Ingrid Bennington’s address. An hour later, a moving crew arrived at Sandra’s penthouse and packed Carol’s things. Sandra gave them Ingrid’s address and signed a check, which included a hefty bonus for their willingness to arrive on such short notice. A separate courier arrived to transport Carol’s jewelry.
    Sandra systematically canceled Carol’s credit cards, charge accounts, and bank accounts. After the last call, she forwarded her calls to the answering service and allowed herself a rare shot of Scotch. She carried it to one of the guest bedrooms where she stripped and crawled into bed. She pushed all thoughts of Carol from her mind, downed the Scotch, and was soon asleep.
    0

CHAPTER FOUR
    Sandra opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room. Disoriented and bewildered, she looked around the darkened room and moaned as the events of the past few hours slammed back. Her throat constricted as the look of ecstasy on Carol’s face came back to haunt her.
    Why was I never able to put it there? she wondered. Carol was right. I am a lousy lover.
    For years, she had held onto her belief that Carol’s lack of interest in sex caused their problems. Now, she knew it was not Carol.
    She was the problem.
    Sandra tried to analyze her feelings for Carol, but they were too complicated and clouded. Had she ever loved Carol? Yes, in the beginning, before she discovered Carol tricked her and used her as a money tool to help her father.
    Sandra glanced at the glowing digits on the clock beside the bed. It was already after ten; she slept the entire day away.

    She pulled the blanket from the bed, wrapped it around her, and walked aimlessly around the room. Unable to corral her thoughts, she opened the French doors and stepped out onto the dark balcony. The late February temperatures were brisk, but Sandra craved its freshness.
    She curled into a chair and deliberately avoided thinking about Carol. At some point she would have to come to terms with her, but the wound was still