Forever My Francesca

Forever My Francesca

J.E. Hopkins

Copyright 2014 J.E. Hopkins

Smashwords Edition

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Cover Design by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

Table of Contents

Copyright

Chapter 1: Temptation

Chapter 2: Shall We Dance

Chapter 3: Rules of Engagement

Chapter 4: Monogamous Adultery

Chapter 5: Amanda

Chapter 6: Texting

Chapter 7: Kyra’s Hope

Chapter 8: Violet

Chapter 9: Isle of Devils

Chapter 10: A Mother’s Love

Chapter 11: Hello and Goodbye

Chapter 12: The Doctor Calls

Epilogue

About the Author

Chapter 1: Temptation

Francesca checked her caller ID. It was him again. She threw her cell phone on her California king bed.

Grant Deverson.

Just when she thought her day couldn’t get any worse, he had to call again. He was the last thing she needed. She had been tormented by unwanted news all morning, and now she had to deal with him trying to entice her with that absurd faux-French accent he stupidly used—as if anyone believed that scoundrel from Boston could have been born into French eloquence.

Why did he keep calling? Ever since her daughter Leah’s wedding to her childhood love Alex two months ago, Grant Deverson had been calling her cell phone multiple times a day, trying to tempt her into sin. You would think a man would avoid a married woman, but not this man. Her marital status seemed to intrigue him even more.

He was insufferable. He was everything she disdained in the opposite sex. He was flashy, arrogant, reckless, uninhibited, and completely unashamed of his over-the-top, eccentric lifestyle that had no place is her orderly, structured life. No good could come from mixing with a man like him. Well, maybe there was potential for a fleeting moment of satisfaction, but that was all he could offer, and she would not risk her reputation on a fling, no matter how much temporary pleasure those mercurial green eyes of his promised. She would just have to keep reminding herself of all the reason she had to stay away from that temptation, but on a day as horrid as this one had been, her mind could be too easily swayed to do something that would be most regrettable afterwards—albeit most enjoyable in the moment, she imagined.

She knew it would best to avoid him before he caught her in a rare moment of weakness and she surrendered to her lust, as she often did in her forbidden dreams of that man and his lethal hands. No. This couldn’t happen. She refused to let it happen.

Francesca paced the room, repeating those words over and over again. She had worked too hard to establish herself as a respectable, enviable woman. The type of woman she had always admired as a kid, but feared she would never become. Her family certainly never believed she could pull herself out of her trailer-park roots and into the life of the social elite, but she had succeeded. Against all the odds she overcame her painful childhood and married a man suitable to give her the life she had craved. Although she never loved David Rhodes, she loved being Mrs. David Rhodes, and she loved all the social-status perks that went along with being married to a wealthy, successful, revered man.

Love had no place in her life. Her life, her marriage, was about the image she wanted to portray and the lifestyle she wanted to live. David made that happen, and she would not jeopardize her marriage for an unwanted attraction for a rogue, even if he was a devastatingly handsome rogue.

This was not the first time temptation pursued her. Grant Deverson was not the first man to try to entice her into an affair. She almost gave in once shortly after she found out about David’s mistress, who happened to be one of her closest friends, but in the end, no man was worth the risk to her bank account. She put up with David’s infidelity and remained the dutiful wife. The security of being Mrs. Rhodes outweighed any damage to her pride. Besides, he paid her handsomely to be his wife and she accepted his money in exchange for her playing the role of his trophy bride. A small price to pay for a secure life—at least that was how she justified settling for his money and burying her heart.

She couldn’t risk her future on a whim with a man so flighty and adventurous. Grant Deverson might have a sizeable portfolio, but he lacked the social status Francesca embraced as Mrs. Rhodes. He could never mix in her elitist world, and as much as she hated that life at times, she hated the thought of losing it even more. She would never go back to that life she left in West Virginia.

No. There was no place in her life for Grant Deverson, and it was time she made that clear once and for all. If only she could convince herself of this, then maybe she could find the words to convince him to leave her alone, but the man was so annoying persistent.

Her phone rang again. She anxiously reached for the phone on the bed and saw his number. This would never end. He was never going to stop. Knowing she should press ignore, she pressed the button to receive the call instead, convincing herself it was better to talk to him so she could officially end this dangerous, flirtatious game. That was the plan. She could do this, she told herself. All she had to do was be herself. That usually was sufficient to drive people away.

She cleared her throat trying to hide any hint of uneasiness from her voice. This is Francesca Rhodes. She emphasized her full name with that snobbish upper-class tone she had mastered. At least her voice hadn’t betrayed her, although her traitorous body was overly excited at the thought of hearing his voice. She must be losing it to even being slightly interested in this man.

Ah…Francesca, he purred. As much as I love hearing your voice in your voicemail, it is so much more pleasurable hearing the real thing. I’m glad you finally decided not to press the ignore button.

Damn him. Who, may I ask, is calling? Francesca asked, as if she didn’t recognize that voice that instantly enflamed her. No matter her unwanted reaction to him, she would never let him know just how much he affected her.

Franky, my dear, I am the man who is going to rescue you from a life of eternal boredom. I am your personal Jesus.

Is this the best the heavens could offer? she taunted. No wonder I’m an atheist.

God saves his best for those most in need. At least that’s what I hear, but what does a sacrilegious pig like me know? Anyhow, I have a proposition for you. Before you tell me to stop calling you or, even worse, lie to me and tell me you’re not interested, I ask that you hear me out first.

Francesca sighed. The smart move would be to hang up on him, but for some reason, she could not press the button to end this charade.

It wouldn’t kill her to hear him out, she rationalized. Let him make his proposal. She would swiftly say no way and then she would tell him once and for all to get lost and never call again. There was no place in her life for the likes of him.

Fine. Make it quick. I have an appointment in a few minutes. She hoped her tone would ward him off, but one thing she had learned about this man was that nothing deterred him. No matter how rude she had been, he just laughed off her insults and continued to try and batter her into submission. For some reason she could not explain, she was starting to soften.

Even though she feigned annoyance whenever he called, a tiny part of her reveled in his attention. David barely acknowledged her existence these days, which was the way she generally preferred her marriage to work, but she missed being wanted, desired, and needed. She was tired of being so alone, but Grant Deverson was not the cure for her loneliness. Deep down she feared he could unlock the part of her she desperately wanted to keep hidden—the part she had to keep hidden, for she would never allow herself to be dependent on anyone ever again. She would never allow anyone the power to break her. She spent too many years creating this ice-queen image, and no man would crack her protective shell.

Impatient, princess, or just excited?

You have two minutes, Deverson, she said. She really did have a lunch date in the city and her car was waiting for her. Not that she couldn’t afford to be a little late, but she didn’t want him to know this.

I can do a lot in two minutes, and I hope one day to show you, but for now, let’s just talk about my proposal. Let me take you out to dinner. Francesca started to object, but he cut her off. You can’t say no until I have laid out all the terms. One dinner is all I request. I just want to spend one evening with you. We can go wherever you like. I just want time with you. And after dinner, if you decide that you never want to see me again, I will leave you alone.

Every instinct in Francesca was telling her this would be a mistake, although the thought of him leaving her alone left her feeling shockingly bereft. She dismissed that unwanted bit of sentiment. She really needed to get laid. That could be the only reason why this man appealed to her at all. He was so far removed from her type, and yet something about him drew her to him.

Impossible. Dinner with him could only lead to trouble that she couldn’t afford.

Nothing is impossible, Franky. You eat, I eat, we eat together. I am not proposing that you let me eat you—although we can discuss that over dinner if you like.

She cringed. Not from horror at the thought, but from the unexpected thrill his words fueled. You are incredibly crude and disgusting, she said, trying to hide the quiver of heat at the notion of being his dessert.

Frankly, my dear, what I am is honest. You should try it sometime rather than pretending to be indifferent when I can tell by your voice just how intrigued you really are. Nevertheless, I will be slightly less honest if that will please you and result in you saying yes to dinner with me.

The answer is no. Need I remind you that I am a married woman? Unhappily married, but that was irrelevant. She was still David Rhodes’ wife.

Deverson seemed unperturbed by the reminder of her marital status. You’re married in name only. Let’s not pretend that the real reason you are avoiding me is fear of breaking your sacred marriage vows, he said. You don’t give a damn about your vows; you just want to keep your marriage on paper so that you can keep your membership in the club of pretentious, social-climbing snobs. I get it. I am not asking you to run away with me. Not yet.

Considering the marriage excuse failed to sway him, she thought of another rational reason. My daughter works for you. It would be inappropriate for us to socialize, and she would not be pleased with any kind of liaison between us.

Leah had made it clear to her mother on multiple occasions that she didn’t want Francesca to jeopardize her job by engaging in an affair with her boss. Francesca promised Leah that she wouldn’t do anything else to hurt her. She had hurt her enough over the years when she shut her daughter out of her life because she did not approve of Leah’s relationship with Alex. After four years of no contact, Francesca finally reached out to Leah, and was there for her when Alex struggled through his recovery from heroin addiction, and was able to support her daughter when she gave birth to her beautiful baby girl, Sienna. Even though there relationship had improved considerably, it was still too new, too delicate to jeopardize. Francesca was just learning how to be the mother Leah wanted, and was grateful her daughter gave her a second chance to make things right. Francesca couldn’t afford to hope for a third chance. She wouldn’t lose Leah again. Not now. Not when she needed her family the most.

First you are hiding behind your marriage and now your daughter. Do you ever stop cowering like a child? On one hand you are the strongest woman I’ve ever known, at the same time you are the weakest.

Francesca bristled. How dare he say such things to her? She was many things, but never a coward, not after the hell she had endured as a child. She knew Grant was baiting her, but she was too competitive to let him win. I was trying to be polite, but clearly you can’t take a hint. Maybe you’re just not my type of man. I don’t particularly like men who are so indiscriminate about their sexual partners, particularly the sex of their partners. A not-so-subtle comment about his sexual history, which she knew from Leah involved affairs with both sexes. She didn’t know if he was gay or bisexual, but she wasn’t interested in being an experiment for him.

Silence greeted her in response, and for a moment she felt guilty that she might have upset him, but she was still too angered by his words. It was time to put this farce of a flirtation to an end. When she was in the midst of a fury, she attacked, and this man seemed to incite her rage like no other. She knew it was because he made her want things she shouldn’t want.

Why does this silly little dinner matter to you so much? Are you lonely? I thought you routinely bought companionship. I’m sure for enough money you could buy someone who would pretend to enjoy your company.

I just want to have dinner with you, Francesca Rhodes. Talk. Get to know each other better. It appears that you may have the wrong idea about me, and I want to clear the air. Is the idea of one dinner with me so repugnant to you? If so, then forget it. I wouldn’t want you to be miserable just so I can be happy for one evening. It would give me no pleasure to look across the table and see your stunning face plagued with disgust from being stuck in my presence.

Francesca’s face flushed with guilt. Thankfully he could not see how miserable she felt after hearing the pain in his voice from her refusal. She never heard him sound so melancholy. It was quite unpleasant. He always seemed unflappable. Too arrogant to feel the ache from her rejection, but this time he seemed almost defeated, and that left her feeling unusually unsettled.

As much as she wanted him to leave her alone, she didn’t want to hurt him. But she was afraid. Afraid that one dinner would be the beginning of the end of the façade of the life she had created. There was something about that man she knew could get under her skin and cause her safe world to crumble around her. Well, maybe that was what she needed—at least for one day. Why not dance with the devil just once?

I can do this, she told herself. I can survive one dinner with this man and still be me.

Look, I guess one dinner wouldn’t hurt. As long as you understand this is just dinner. Nothing more. A one-time deal, and then we move on as if dinner never happened, as it will never happen again.

"As you wish, ma chérie," Grant responded joyously. No hint of any sadness in his voice.

Francesca groaned. He played her like a fiddle and she fell right into tune. You lousy, manipulative bastard. You made me angry, I lashed out at you—which you deserved—and then you had the audacity to pretend to be hurt so that I would feel guilty and give in to dinner. Damn him. She wanted to be angry, but had to admit she was impressed that he outsmarted her so. He truly was dangerous.

No backsies, darling. You agreed to dinner, and as an honorable woman, you must keep your word.

Oh, she would keep her word, and she would do whatever she could to ensure that he paid for getting the best of her at her own game. I wouldn’t even think of backing out. I agreed to dinner and I will go, but I choose the restaurant.

Francesca told Grant that she would meet him at the Blue Grass Jazz Club in Soho. His surprise was evident, but he accepted her choice and they agreed to meet on Saturday night. That would give her three days to wrap her brain around the idea of spending the evening with this man. Who was she kidding? Three days would never be enough time to prepare. There was no way to prepare for someone as unpredictable as Grant Deverson. She was playing with fire, and she could already feel herself burning—yet instead of running away from the flame, she craved its blaze.

II

It felt like the longest three days of her life, but it was finally Saturday, and after lunch, she would take a car service into Manhattan and meet up with her daughter and spend time with her precious granddaughter. It was still hard imagining herself as a grandmother. How she hated that word. She was only forty-six, but that word made her sound like a Social Security recipient. Some days she felt like one.

Regardless, she would enjoy her time with her family. They had come such a long way in rebuilding their relationship, and Francesca yearned to spend time with them and missed them when they parted.

After a delightful afternoon, her night would be spent with him. Not the whole night, of course. Just one evening. Oh, she would flirt a little and tease him, but she would walk away no matter how much she might want to stay. It would be too dangerous to stay.

She could barely eat her breakfast. She pushed her eggs from one side of the plate to another. She sat at the opposite end of an unnecessarily long table from her husband. His head buried in a paper, completely unaware and uninterested in the thoughts racing through her mind.

Francesca watched him intently as he flipped the page. David was a reasonably attractive man, although his hairline was betraying him and his waist was a lot softer and rounder than when they married twenty-three years ago. Most women would still find him pleasing, and apparently did, as his bed never lacked for company—although those women probably found greater pleasure from his wallet than his ten-minute sexual performances. Francesca hadn’t found him remotely desirable in years. To be honest, she never did. He was always just convenient.

She never felt that heat when he touched her. Never found pleasure when he entered her. She was grateful when he decided to seek comfort from other women, sparing her from the monotony of unsatisfying sex. For her, the only purpose of sex was to produce children, and she gave him a son and a daughter—the perfect family. Her duty fulfilled. She gladly turned the other cheek as he slept his way through their friends.

Oh, she knew about every affair, but not even a small part of her cared. Let them enjoy that handful of tedious minutes. She preferred a massage or meal, or even a good book. Anything other than his sweaty body panting over hers while she forced herself to stay conscious and pretend to feel something other than boredom. Faking an orgasm was hard work, and although she was a good actress, she had to bring out Oscar-worthy performances when it came to sex with David.

For years, she assumed she was frigid, but now she was wondering whether it was just her husband who made her cold. She certainly felt a simmering burn whenever Grant Deverson invaded her thoughts.

Why was she still thinking about him? She had to stop dreaming about him. This was not like her. She didn’t fantasize about men who were the antithesis of what she wanted. Grant Deverson was just an odd diversion that intrigued her. She would not confuse that with desire.

Francesca! David called out to her.

She looked up into her husband’s distant brown eyes, which were as boring as his personality. Did you call my name?

About three times, but you were in your own little world.

Well, her imaginary world was far more interesting than the reality. Deverson. It was all his fault. He was already causing problems by creeping into her thoughts. After today, this would be over. Sorry. I was thinking about my plans for the day.

Your plans? he asked, as if they hadn’t had this same conversation two days ago.

She had already told David that she was planning to see Leah and spend the weekend in the city. She hoped that would evoke some kind of reaction out of him, but he showed no interest in seeing their daughter. He refused to come to her wedding and hadn’t even met his granddaughter, who was already five months old.

Francesca despised him for that. He acted like Leah had ceased to exist. He disowned her financially and emotionally. Cut her off without an ounce of regret or remorse. Leah had disappointed him, and he washed his hands clean of his only daughter. Francesca knew he would do the same to her if she displeased him. She couldn’t afford to be excised like a piece of old furniture. There was too much to lose, and now more than ever she had to hold on to everything familiar. She couldn’t let go of the life she had worked so hard to build, even though she hated the man with whom she shared this life. Her love for her lifestyle outweighed her disdain for the man who gave it to her.

I’m spending the night in Manhattan. I will be home on Sunday afternoon, remember? I told you I would be spending time with Leah.

He grunted as he resumed reading his Wall Street Journal. Francesca wanted to stuff that paper down his throat. That image brought a smile to her face. Let him choke on the stock market report. It would be a fitting end for a man who only cared about his wallet. As much as she cherished his wallet, it would never be more important than her children.

Francesca! he shouted again, stirring her from her menacing fantasy.

Yes, dear, she replied with false honey sweetness as she tried to repress her grin.

His beady eyes watched her closely, but she gave nothing away. Francesca was the queen of masks. She could play whatever role was necessary, and right now she had to act like the wife who gave a damn about what her husband spoke, although all she wanted was for him to succumb to a permanent case of laryngitis. This would require extra concentration. It was tiring being his dutiful wife.

We need to discuss Tristan. He dropped the paper on his plate. What are you going to do about your wayward son? I received another phone call from the dean at Princeton. If he wasn’t such a good friend of mine, Tristan would have been expelled months ago. That boy needs some control and discipline. You indulged him for too long, and now he is a spoiled brat. You made this mess, therefore I expect you to fix it before he embarrasses me any further. You already messed things up with Leah. We can’t afford another gaffe with him. Can’t I have one child that does the right thing?

Choking him with his paper seemed less appealing now compared to the thought of stabbing him with the fork she clenched in her right hand. Of course, when the children displeased him, it was her fault and her job to fix things. He never took responsibility for anything. The children were her job, and if they failed to meet