Capital Wives - Softcover

Alers, Rochelle

 
9780373229970: Capital Wives
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373229976 ISBN 13: 9780373229970
Verlag: Harlequin Kimani Press, 2011

Inhaltsangabe

Married to some of Washington, D.C.'s most influential men, Bethany, Deanna and Marisol are on the guest list at every high-profile political and social event. And when they meet at a fundraiser, they forge a deep, unexpected friendship.

Beneath the glamour, all three are struggling to hide the void in their marriages. Bethany's teenage stepdaughter is wreaking chaos at home, and to escape Bethany begins writing an anonymous, dirt-dishing gossip column. Deanna is a successful event planner, longing for a baby and unaware of her husband's double life. Marisol, too, is desperate to start a family, and starting to question her husband's commitment, and her own.

As their friendship deepens, Bethany, Marisol and Deanna help each other decide how far they'll go to fulfill their desires. Because in passion—as in politics—one mistake can change everything….

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Hailed by readers and booksellers alike as one of today's most popular African-American authors of women's fiction, Ms. Alers is a regular on bestsellers list, and has been a recipient of numerous awards, including the Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing and a Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award.  Visit her Web site www.rochellealers.com  

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.



Bethany Paxton went completely still, holding her breath when she felt the whisper of her husband's warm, mint-scented breath brush her cheek, then the press of his mouth. "Feel better, baby."

She wanted to tell him there was no way she would ever feel better—not when she had been forced to play stepmother to a teenager who had to have been the devil's spawn. Her ultraconservative Bible belt parents had lectured her over and over about using the word hate, but she could truly say that she hated her husband's fifteen-year-old daughter. The bitch-in-training went out of her way to work Bethany into a frenzy wherein she'd seriously considered murdering the girl.

One time when she was slicing fruit for a salad, she'd gripped the handle of the knife and had been ready to plunge it into Paige's heart. The thought was so shocking that Bethany called her twin brother, telling him of her wicked thoughts, and he was able to talk her off the proverbial ledge.

Later that night, Bethany downed a bottle of wine, went to sleep and didn't wake up until her children roused her, crying that if she didn't get up they were going to be late for school. Now when she drank herself into a stupor it didn't matter whether she got out of bed or not. That's what live-in housekeepers were for. As hired help, the woman got up early and made certain her son and daughter were washed, dressed and fed breakfast before she walked them to the corner to wait for the school bus.

At first Damon had balked at hiring a housekeeper when a cleaning service came in twice a week to clean, dust, vacuum and do the laundry, but Bethany did what she hadn't done since she'd first laid eyes on Damon Paxton sitting at a table in an upscale D.C. restaurant more than ten years ago. She had seduced him.

Twenty years his junior, Bethany offered Damon the best sex he'd ever had in his life. It hadn't mattered that he'd been married with a young child. She'd wanted Damon, and after a torrid affair and an uncontested divorce wherein Damon had given his wife a sizable settlement, Bethany had married her prince.

Opening one eye, she squinted at the clock on the bedside table. It was almost eight, and that meant in another hour she would be alone—alone to think about the turn her life had taken. She was only thirty-five but felt years older. She was drinking much too much, and the result was she'd gained weight and the skin under her eyes was puffy.

As Mrs. Damon Paxton she'd found herself isolated, snubbed by the wives of her husband's business associates, which initially led Bethany to doubt her attractiveness and femininity. However, when rumors surfaced that she was a tramp and home wrecker she realized it had been retribution. The first Mrs. Paxton was D.C. royalty, and Bethany was a former beauty queen who had grown up in an Alabama trailer park. Only within the privacy of her bedroom did she feel confident enough to ensure her marriage was on solid footing.

Turning over and staring up at the gossamer fabric draping the antique canopy bed, Bethany knew she couldn't continue the pretense that she had the perfect life and the perfect marriage. If she were truly honest, she would admit that both were in the toilet.

Something had to change; something had to give; she had to change or she would end up like her mother, who'd looked seventy at forty, was depressed, broken and had been dead a week before her body was discovered when a neighbor called the police after she'd noticed a strange odor coming from the adjoining apartment.

Her parents had moved out of the trailer and into a one-bedroom apartment once all their children had left home. Her dad had gone to West Virginia to visit his sister, who'd been hospitalized with a terminal illness, when he was notified that his wife had died from natural causes. It had been the last time Bethany had visited Parkers Corner.

Bethany sat up, opened the drawer to the bedside table and removed a cloth-covered journal and pen. Flipping to a blank page, she jotted down a list of things she needed to do: Diet. Call dermatologist about Botox. Contact personal trainer. She closed the book, picked up her cell phone, scrolled through her directory and tapped the button for her dermatologist, leaving a voice-mail message for someone to return her call. Minutes later she confirmed a session with her longtime personal trainer.

Dieting was easy. All she had to do was drink more water, increase daily portions of fruits and vegetables and limit eating red meat to twice a week. She would give herself two weeks of dieting and exercise before emerging from what had become a period of self-isolation. Damon's social secretary had called her with an update of his calendar and Bethany would call Caroline and let her know to which of the events she would accompany her husband.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she walked from the bedroom to her en suite bath. One thing she had insisted on when she and Damon had gone house hunting: she had to have her own bathroom. Living in a double-wide with six other people and one bathroom had scarred Bethany for life. She could never linger more than three minutes because someone was always knocking on the door. What family members didn't know was the bathroom had become her sanctuary—a place that in her imagination had become a magical place where she as a princess waited for her prince to come and rescue her from the squalor, poverty and the ridicule of other kids who constantly reminded Bethany that she was wearing her older sister's hand-me-downs.

But that all changed as her body filled out. Boys had begun to notice her long legs, natural wavy flaxen hair, luminous violet eyes framed by long charcoal-gray lashes and her seductive smile that never failed to elicit gasps from the opposite sex. It had taken hours of practicing in front of the bathroom mirror before Bethany was able to lower her eyelids, tilt her head at an angle and peer up at a man through her lashes to get him to do whatever she wanted.

Her smile, body and face had been her ticket out of the tiny mill town and into the spotlight as beauty queen, soap opera actress and news correspondent. When she was assigned to cover a newly elected representative from her home state, her life had changed forever. It was her first visit to the nation's capital and the first time she came face-to-face with Damon Paxton. As one of D.C.'s most influential lobbyists, Damon was purported to be as powerful as any man, past or present, who'd occupied the Oval Office.

Bethany stared at her reflection in the mirrors above the counter that created an illusion of infinite space. Pale ash cabinetry and a raised one-step from the vanity area functioned as a dressing room; a water closet and low tub were screened by sliding ash doors fitted with light-filtering frosted glass.

Her bathroom had become her retreat when she closed and locked the door, shutting out the constant bickering between her son and daughter and Damon when he went on incessantly about up-and-coming politicos and veteran elected officials whom he'd sought to bring into his sphere of influence.

It was no wonder she'd begun drinking. It was either booze or drugs. Even when her college friends were smoking marijuana and/or snorting cocaine, Bethany had never been one to experiment, because she feared becoming addicted like her father, who had become hooked on painkillers after he'd broken his back when he'd slipped on a wet floor at the garage where he'd worked as a mechanic. He'd tried suing the owner, but lost his case because he'd neglected to wipe up the oil that had been leaking from the car he'd been working...

„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Verlag
Harlequin Kimani Press
Erscheinungsdatum
2011
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373229976
ISBN 13 
9780373229970
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
336
Kontakt zum Hersteller
RS FASHIONS
admin@ilovefancydress.co.uk

Unit 3
Southend on Sea
Essex
SS2 6GD
Vereinigtes Königreich
Verantwortliche Person
HarperCollins Publishers Ireland
enquiries@harpercollins.ie

Macken House 39/40 Mayor Street Upper
Dublin 1
D01 C9W8
Irland

Weitere beliebte Ausgaben desselben Titels

9781410443915: Capital Wives (Thorndike Press Large Print African-American)

Vorgestellte Ausgabe

ISBN 10:  1410443914 ISBN 13:  9781410443915
Verlag: Thorndike Pr, 2012
Hardcover