since she didn’t trust herself to speak. He backed away with a smile that promised a more thorough exploration of her lips.
Hell, Angel needed another talk with herself before she started believing Billy really was a knight in shining armor or her very own Prince Charming. Yeah, a real prince all right, one who took his date to a strip joint. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to reconcile the man in the videos with the teenage boy she remembered and the man she was coming to know now.
With Billy finally out of her bedroom, she could convince herself he was simply a man. A gorgeous hunk of a man, but still a man, and men were selfish creatures designed only to satisfy themselves.
*
Later that afternoon Angel collapsed onto the couch, not so much physically exhausted as mentally and emotionally worn out. Her worries over Gabby liking her new school were unfounded. Her little one was handling this so much better than her mommy. The amount of money Billy wired to Angel’s new account astounded her. Lanie explained it was for back child support. The legal details would be hammered out later, which only reminded Angel that playing house with Billy had a closing date. With the cash she could move out anytime she wanted and while Gabby napped she planned to scour the Internet for apartments. Once she was settled she could begin researching the nursing license process for New Jersey. Thankfully, for right now, Billy had given her the gift of time.
She got up to fix a cup of tea and before she could take a calming sip the doorbell sounded. Wasn’t the doorman supposed to buzz the intercom before letting people up? Maybe, it was a neighbor.
She peered through the peephole. Two beautiful women stood in the hall. The brunette held a bottle of wine and the tall blonde held an infant of about three months. Oh, hell was the baby his? A sick, sinking feeling clawed inside her stomach. Then she recognized the blonde as the supermodel Hannah Hahn who’d married one of Billy’s teammates but who was the other one? A girlfriend of Billy’s?
The doorbell buzzed again. Looking down, she compared her worn jeans and faded t-shirt she wore to the women’s designer versions of the same attire. There was nothing she could do about it now. She squared her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated by a supermodel and whoever the brunette was.
With the fake, happy waitress smile she perfected over the years she opened the door. “Billy’s not here.”
“Of course he isn’t,” said the supermodel, breezing by Angel into the living room. “Our husbands are at practice.”
“We’re the welcoming committee.” The brunette waved the bottle of wine in the air and followed Hannah in. “I’m Samantha Jameson, Ryan Terell’s wife. And that,” she pointed to the other woman, “Is Hannah Hahn, Jake Miller’s wife and her little one is Maxine.”
She didn’t recognize Samantha Jameson, but Angel knew the name. She wasn’t prepared to entertain an award-winning journalist or the supermodel.
And how should Angel introduce herself? As Billy’s former lover? Baby mama? She simply settled on, “I’m Angel.” She decided to let them draw their own conclusions.
Gabby ran to greet the visitors, apparently awaken by the commotion or perhaps she’d never been asleep at all. She had to admit her baby was growing up. After all as her daughter argued earlier ‘kindergarteners do not take naps’.
While the two women fussed over Gabby, Angel escaped to the kitchen to open the wine. And guzzle a glass before facing them again, to hell with the tea. She couldn’t find the wineglasses, which made her insanely happy. No wine glasses, no women. The utensil she used was more of a bottle opener than a corkscrew. Luckily Billy had a well-stocked fridge so she could offer cheese and sliced apples to go along with the wine, though a nice serving platter wasn’t to be had either. So she made due with a dinner plate and beer mugs. All those
Hell, Angel needed another talk with herself before she started believing Billy really was a knight in shining armor or her very own Prince Charming. Yeah, a real prince all right, one who took his date to a strip joint. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to reconcile the man in the videos with the teenage boy she remembered and the man she was coming to know now.
With Billy finally out of her bedroom, she could convince herself he was simply a man. A gorgeous hunk of a man, but still a man, and men were selfish creatures designed only to satisfy themselves.
*
Later that afternoon Angel collapsed onto the couch, not so much physically exhausted as mentally and emotionally worn out. Her worries over Gabby liking her new school were unfounded. Her little one was handling this so much better than her mommy. The amount of money Billy wired to Angel’s new account astounded her. Lanie explained it was for back child support. The legal details would be hammered out later, which only reminded Angel that playing house with Billy had a closing date. With the cash she could move out anytime she wanted and while Gabby napped she planned to scour the Internet for apartments. Once she was settled she could begin researching the nursing license process for New Jersey. Thankfully, for right now, Billy had given her the gift of time.
She got up to fix a cup of tea and before she could take a calming sip the doorbell sounded. Wasn’t the doorman supposed to buzz the intercom before letting people up? Maybe, it was a neighbor.
She peered through the peephole. Two beautiful women stood in the hall. The brunette held a bottle of wine and the tall blonde held an infant of about three months. Oh, hell was the baby his? A sick, sinking feeling clawed inside her stomach. Then she recognized the blonde as the supermodel Hannah Hahn who’d married one of Billy’s teammates but who was the other one? A girlfriend of Billy’s?
The doorbell buzzed again. Looking down, she compared her worn jeans and faded t-shirt she wore to the women’s designer versions of the same attire. There was nothing she could do about it now. She squared her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated by a supermodel and whoever the brunette was.
With the fake, happy waitress smile she perfected over the years she opened the door. “Billy’s not here.”
“Of course he isn’t,” said the supermodel, breezing by Angel into the living room. “Our husbands are at practice.”
“We’re the welcoming committee.” The brunette waved the bottle of wine in the air and followed Hannah in. “I’m Samantha Jameson, Ryan Terell’s wife. And that,” she pointed to the other woman, “Is Hannah Hahn, Jake Miller’s wife and her little one is Maxine.”
She didn’t recognize Samantha Jameson, but Angel knew the name. She wasn’t prepared to entertain an award-winning journalist or the supermodel.
And how should Angel introduce herself? As Billy’s former lover? Baby mama? She simply settled on, “I’m Angel.” She decided to let them draw their own conclusions.
Gabby ran to greet the visitors, apparently awaken by the commotion or perhaps she’d never been asleep at all. She had to admit her baby was growing up. After all as her daughter argued earlier ‘kindergarteners do not take naps’.
While the two women fussed over Gabby, Angel escaped to the kitchen to open the wine. And guzzle a glass before facing them again, to hell with the tea. She couldn’t find the wineglasses, which made her insanely happy. No wine glasses, no women. The utensil she used was more of a bottle opener than a corkscrew. Luckily Billy had a well-stocked fridge so she could offer cheese and sliced apples to go along with the wine, though a nice serving platter wasn’t to be had either. So she made due with a dinner plate and beer mugs. All those
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