The Artist's Paradise by Pamela S Wetterman Read Free Book Online

Sunday lazily reading the newspaper, eating a late breakfast, and savoring tender kisses in bed. This was the first weekend in months he’d spent with her. His usual pattern placed him hiding out in his home office for hours working on some court case.
    Angie and Mister Tubbs enjoyed the attention until after lunch. Then Jonathan slipped out of bed. He dressed in a cobalt blue sweater and khaki slacks. He pulled on his favorite brown tassel loafers with no socks and excused himself.
    Angie recognized his pattern—ti me for him to head to his study. A lump stirred in her throat. He had delayed important preparation for his closing arguments on Monday. His work demanded priority. She didn’t like being isolated from him so soon. This part of his life wouldn’t change. In the meantime, she planned to rebuild her own life. She longed to dust off her watercolors, set up her private studio, and cultivate her artistic talent. Vicki spoke wisdom. She couldn’t rely on Jonathan for her happiness. Perhaps, in time, she would be able to convince him to start a family.
    By mid-afternoon, Angie crawled out of bed , pulled a peach crepe blouse and gray linen slacks from the closet. After dressing, she settled herself in front of the make-up mirror. She tenderly put the pendant around her neck and gazed into her reflection. She had to learn to trust him. He wasn’t her father. Jonathan might choose work over her, but he’d never cheat on her.
    W hen they first married, she resisted settling into the six thousand square-foot brownstone, but his father had insisted that Jonathan accept the gift of his childhood home. With his mother, deceased, and his father in ill health, he’d agreed.
    A few weeks after moving in, she had broached the subject of making subtle changes to the décor—warmer wall colors, brighter artwork, and more informal furniture in a few select rooms.
    His response fired back quick and decisive, “No. This is my home, my memories. All I have left of my parents is here. You can’t change anything.”
    The brownstone, a three-story stone monolithic structure, remained cold and uninviting. She found herself forced to live with the decor of a woman she’d never met and the legacy of a father, long gone. She’d worked hard to fit into his life. Being eight years younger than Jonathan, she respected his ideas and molded herself to his wishes.
    In the ir early years together, she’d gone to court to watch him in action. Jonathan made those TV courtroom scenes look like a segment from Law & Order. He was animated. She could feel his fire and passion for the truth. His record stood on its merits—a defense attorney consistently in the top five in Illinois for winning cases. His reputation put him on the fast track.
    D id a woman have to put her life on hold to keep her marriage together?  Her mother had done that. Clearly, her father had never appreciated her mother’s sacrifice. In the end, the divorce still came. Why did relationships have to be so difficult? She wanted it all—an art career, children, and Jonathan. It would take a lot of work, but she refused to abandon her dreams.
    Angie raced across the room and down the stairs to Jonathon’s study. Mister Tubbs bounded after her, hopping like a bunny rabbit.
    She swung open the study door. “ Do you remember when I used to come watch you during your closing arguments?”
    “Sure, you haven’t been to court in a long time, but I loved looking up to see you. Why?”
    “I know you’re closing on the Hamilton trial tomorrow. Do you mind if I come to watch?”
    He pushed back his desk chair and stepped around his desk. “Babe, it would be like old times. Yes, come. It’s a tough case. I could use your moral support.”
    “Look for the girl in the candy-red dress sitting in the first row.”
    He pulled her close with his muscular arms. His hot breath penetrated her senses. As he kissed her hard on the mouth, she felt her blouse being unbuttoned. Oh,