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“What do you mean one way or the other?” I want clarification.
“I trust you’ll make the right decision.” He doesn’t give an inch.
“I’m working on it,” I assure him.
“Great. Now, go enjoy yourself. You know what they say about being all business and no pleasure…”
“No, I don’t.”
“It makes Tom a dull boy.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Melanie
Tom is in the pool. I sit on the side. I half-watch as he swims several laps and half-study the agreement. If I’d known it was this fascinating, I wouldn’t have put it off so long. I’m glad I did.
No doubt, if I’d read it, I wouldn’t be sitting here now. I would have found an easier route to get what I want. Sometimes you can’t see where the path will take you, and sometimes you realize it’s where you want to go, but that you wouldn’t have started out in that direction, if only you’d known what was ahead.
Tom takes a break and swims over to where I am. I can feel his eyes on everything as he examines my body. Thankfully, I’ve already ordered a drink. When it arrives, he gives me a look that conveys his disappointment.
“What?” I shrug. “We’re on our honeymoon.”
He doesn’t offer a response. He’s too busy running his hands along my thighs. “Have you ever thought about getting lipo?”
“Only every other day.”
He splashes some water on my legs and watches as it drips off. “We should schedule that when we get back.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say, and then Tom kicks off on the side of the pool. He backstrokes his way to the other side. I hold the agreement where he’ll see it when he looks my way. Eventually, he swims over.
“I have some questions for you…”
My husband raises his brow, and then he glances around to see who might be listening. It’s late afternoon, and the pool area is starting to fill up. I follow his gaze. So many people in this town, I’ve noticed. With a little lipo, I tell Tom, I could probably live here.
“So you like it here then?”
“I do.” It isn’t a lie. You can smell the money coming off the patrons. Perpetual vacationers. I guess one never really ventures that far from what one knows.
“How much money does the church make anyway?”
He puts on his surprised look. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious,” I say. I lick the sugar on the rim of my daiquiri. “I’d like to learn more about our finances.”
Tom doesn’t respond for several moments. He’s stretching, and I can see he really has been working out. Finally, he says, “I’m not here to talk shop.”
“Fine.” I stuff the agreement in my bag. “What do you take home?”
“Enough.” Tom likes his double entendres.
I silently seethe as he props himself on his elbows. He rests against the side of the pool. After several minutes, he glances over his shoulder and gives me the once-over. I take this as a sign to continue the conversation. “Well, as your wife, I’d like to know.” He stares at my bottom lip as I chew on it. “It just seems like for the amount of work you do, they should give you a bigger piece of the pie, is all.”
“Like I said, I do well.”
“If you insist on being vague…whatever. But I think I could help.”
He looks at me for a moment. I can see he’s pondering his next move. We both know he wants to go deeper.
