"I'll deal with my husband."
She prepared for his arrival. The housekeeper had prepared his favorite, filet mignon with fresh garden salad and baked potatoes. She had picked up dessert, a delicate and sumptuousraspberry soufflé that had been personally prepared by a top pastry chef at one of Kelly's restaurants. She had also chosen the wine to go with the meal. She was told she could have one glass, and it would not affect the fetuses.
She had showered and changed into a slinky black robe that clung to her body in all the right places. Her hair was brushed until it hung past her shoulders and down her back in gentle curling waves. And she was wearing her signature scent. It was a seduction scene to which she had added candles.
They were dining in front of the fireplace. There was a hint of spring in the air, but the stubborn winter was still trying to hold on to the very end.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped back to examine the table before wandering over to stare at herself in the mirror. She did not look any different from when she last gazed at her reflection this morning. Of course, it was too early to tell that she was carrying.
Putting her hand flat on her stomach, she imagined herself six months in. She was pregnant. Finally, something was happening. Her dream was about to materialize.
She would give her husband the family he wanted, the family they both wanted. She was just going to have to convince him that all would be well.
A jolt went straight through her when she heard the ping, indicating that the front doors were being opened.
He had mentioned a meeting with the director and several members of the cast, and he would be a little late coming home. She had told him they were having the meal inside their bedroom. He had started doing that, informing her when he was going to be late, and he was sure to make it home every night. Their marriage was better now, and she wanted it to stay that way. "Please, God," she whispered.
She stood right by the mantel, her hands clasped behind her back as she waited for him to enter the room.
He looked tired, she thought with a pang. He had taken off his outer jacket downstairs, and the sleeves of his sweater were rolled up over his forearms. His hair was mussed as if he had been running his fingers through it. She knew he was having some difficulties with the cast and crew and hoped desperately that she would be able to change his mood with the news.
"Hi. What..." His deep voice trailed off as he took in her appearance.
"Hi." Her smile came hesitantly and had him wondering.
"What's this?" He waved a hand to encompass the table setting and the way she was dressed.
"You sounded a little stressed and harried over the phone. I just thought I would be the perfect wife and give you a treat. Do you need to take a shower?"
"Give me five minutes."
"Go ahead. I'll pour the wine in the meantime."
His silver eyes studied her for a few seconds before he nodded and made his way toward the bathroom.
So far, so good, she mused as she popped the cork and poured the wine.
By the time he was back, a towel slung low around his waist and hair still damp from his shower, she had the wine ready.
Waiting until he had pulled on comfortable sweats and an old T-shirt, Eliza handed him the glass of wine before taking her seat.
"How was your day?"
He decided to humor her even though he knew something was up.
"Busy. Thanks." He took the plate she had dished out for him and sniffed appreciatively. "The female character is being replaced."
Her brows lifted. "I thought Melanie was perfect for the character. What happened?"
"She refuses to follow direction and is making the other cast members uncomfortable. She's also making impossible demands. I warned her twice already and told her three strikes, and she's out." He took a sip of his wine. "It's put us in a hell of a spot to find her replacement, but I think we have." He eyed her speculatively. "I almost called to persuade you to come back to work."
"You think I would be right for the part?"
"You would be perfect," he averred. "But you've made up your mind, and I'm not going to be the one to get you to change it."
"That's good." She trailed a finger over the narrow stem of the glass.
"Ready to tell me what's on your mind and why I'm being treated like the perfect husband?" he asked mildly.
