new home owner, even if the home was a condominium.
In the ensuing months, they’d gotten together several times for impromptu dinners and sometimes even watched rented movies together. He’d never made a move on her.
Rod had a fantastic sense of design which was apparent by his use of color, texture and form throughout his three-bedroom, two-bathroom unit. Done in brown, beige, white with black accents throughout, it was warm yet elegant. He’d used distinctive African accents in the bathrooms and also in several of the prints which hung on the walls lining the hallway. Mocha-brown walls greeted you immediately upon entering the foyer which was accentuated by starkly framed black-and-white prints. White carpeting lined the hallway and covered the floors in both the living room and dining area.
Skye wondered how he kept it so clean and thought of her own single-bedroom apartment. In contrast, it was comfortable, but unremarkable. Her color palette ranged from pale blues, to an even paler palette of pastels. The one concession she’d allowed herself was to paint her bedroom a warm yellow. The stark white down-filled comforter and other white accents she’d pulled together made the room appear even larger than it was. She’d done the adjoining bathroom in the opposite color scheme with orange accents, leaving everything else stark white including the towels, rugs and shower curtain. A small bowl of tangerines occupied one corner of the countertop and a vase filled with eucalyptus tied with orange twine sat at the opposite corner. The fruit served a few purposes, reminding Skye each day to take her vitamins, eat plenty of fruits and vegetables and to live a healthful existence. The eucalyptus reminded her to live in the present and to appreciate each day for what it represented—another chance to live life to its fullest.
Three years before, Skye would not have been cognizant of any of these things. It had taken a life-threatening episode, advanced technology and an act of God to deliver her whole and resolved to move forward. One of the first things she’d done was to purchase the condominium she now lived in.
Renovation had taken more than six months. New kitchen cabinets carved from warm maple wood with brass accents lined both walls and the entire kitchen had been painted linen-white. Skye purchased light blue kitchen towels, a set of wooden canisters and decided to paint one wall a vibrant shade of blue.
When Rod saw what she’d done, he hugged her and shook his head. “I knew you had it in you, girl. This is good. Your decorating instincts are alive and well, which I suspected all the time. Now, we can pick out some other stuff whenever you’re ready. And you have to allow me to take you to some of my favorite haunts,” he added, grinning in triumph.
“Don’t get carried away. I still think that a funky look without all this coordinating is the way to go. I just painted the bedroom and the one wall in the kitchen ’cause I was bored,” she said, unconvincingly.
Rod looked at her, closed one eye and smiled seductively. “Yeah, and you don’t really expect me to believe that, now do you?”
Skye laughed then, knowing she’d never fully convince him of her lack of interest in something he loved passionately.
“Look, can we just change the subject? You’ll never admit that I don’t have a decorating bone in my body ’cause you want to believe otherwise. And that’s fine with me—as long as you don’t insist on my shopping at Linens ’n Things every week. How’re things going on the broker side of the industry?” she asked quickly.
“You know. It’s either feast or famine. I’m still working on getting the sales force to get their act together. They either chase the clients away with some of their tactics during the applications process, or they overload them with too much information. Either way, I find we have about a fifty-fifty pull through ratio. Everybody except Pablo. Now, that guy knows how to market himself and the loan programs.”
Rod laughed then and Skye joined him. Images of Pablo, who was tall, thin, handsome and well dressed, were present in both their minds, but for different reasons. Pablo appealed to Rod as the quintessential recruit. Although he knew him to be happily heterosexual, if ever there was a change, he wanted to be the first to know.
“I guess you need to identify what it is that Pablo does, bottle it and market it throughout the territory that your company is covering. Sounds like you need that winning formula,” Skye added then, wondering if anything like what she suggested had ever been tried.
“If it wasn’t so simple, it would be diabolical. You’re absolutely right—it just can’t be done. Every mortgage person acts from his own strengths and, let’s face it, his or her own weaknesses, as well. I don’t have to tell you that, though. You’ve become an expert.”
Rod’s reference to Skye’s success was delivered with pride. In his mind, he’d shown her the path and could take credit for that much, at least. Her continued ability to originate and close a substantial number of loans was totally her own, though.
“Look, I’ll always remember that your input made a terrific difference in my ability. I think of you daily whenever I’m faced with anything that offers resistance. I also recognize the personal insights you contributed from the time I entered the industry over two years ago right up to this very moment,” Skye said, without a hint of laughter in her demeanor.
Rod watched her, shook his head and then smiled slowly. “Don’t even try and play yourself, girl. You were ready from the moment I said go. Your instincts are good, your people skills are excellent and you took to the industry’s standards including programs, products, etc., like a duck to a pond. You’re a born mortgage professional. My only claim to fame is that I discovered you,” he added, grinning in triumph. “A distinct coup was staged the first day you walked through the door.”
Skye laughed and put an arm around him in a leisurely hug. His summation of her talent, her abilities and her knowledge of the industry made her feel accepted and accomplished. After what she’d gone through in the past few years, the feeling was a welcome one.
Now, as Skye headed for the building, she wondered just what Nita and Branch had up their sleeves. She walked in, checked her messages, then made an appointment for a wash and blow dry. The weekend seemed far away, but a girl could never go wrong with a clean head of hair.
Chapter 2
Terrance Marshall placed the phone into the cradle and waited. It took two minutes for it to ring again. He hesitated for another twenty seconds, his patience growing shorter by the moment. Contrary to his wishes, the phone continued to ring. Picking it up slowly, he spoke into the receiver quickly.
“Hello…” There was silence on the other end and his temper flared.
“If you’re not going to speak, you should stop wasting both your time and mine,” he said sternly, then placed the receiver into the cradle. He walked out of the room hoping to avoid what he knew would be a senseless exchange.
“Women…” he muttered under his breath. His instincts told him that his caller had to be Brianna. Who else would call him repeatedly, refuse to speak to him and hang up without saying a single word. He knew she was angry, and perhaps, rightfully so, but her anger was a moot point. Their marriage was over.
They’d tried their best to avoid divorce, but it hadn’t worked. In the scheme of things, too much time had lapsed as he’d avoided giving her honest answers to the questions she posed on a daily basis. There really were no clear-cut answers.
Besides, he’d learned long ago that honesty was overrated. They’d only been married for four years but in that time, they’d created something of beauty. Jacqueline. If it were not for their daughter,
