Beyond the Quiet: Romantic Thriller Read Online Free Page B

desperately wanted to please him, so I read everything I could about relaxing, especially before lovemaking. I tried eating, not eating, soaking in warm water, sipping wine—one time I gulped three daiquiris one after another. But I was never one to hold liquor well. Instead of feeling happy and sexy like most people, I became sleepy and morose.
    The phone rang. I didn’t recognize the ID or the man’s voice.
    “This is Terry O’Neal. You know, from yesterday, at the open house.”
    Oh no, I thought, wishing I’d let the machine answer. I tried to put a smile into my voice. “Mr. O’Neal. What can I do for you?”
    He hesitated, laughed, and sounded embarrassed. “I don’t know quite how to put this, but I have to tell you I’ve been thinking about you and had to hear your voice again.”
    I was so surprised that I co uldn’t think of a thing to say.
    “I know you probably think I’m a nut,” Terry went on, “and I guess I am. But I’d really like to see you again. As soon as possible.”
    “Mr. O’Neal—”
    “Call me Terry, please.”
    “Mr. O’Neal , this conversation is completely inappropriate. I’m not interested.”
    “Please, Lisa. I haven’t dated in over thirty years and I’m probably going about it in the wrong way. But when I saw you, something...magical happened to me just like in the old s ongs. I have to see you again.”
    I had a sudden flash to the moment when he was leaving the house and our eyes met. I couldn’t deny I’d felt...something. Perhaps it was simply that knowledge women get when the y knew a man was interested. For that one instant, I’d felt alive.
    Still, I had no interest in this man or anyone else. It took every ounce of strength I had to face each day, and there was no room for complications .
    “Mr. O’Neal, are you even looking for a house?”
    “Of course. It’s for Betty, my ex-wife. You met her yesterday.”
    “You’re buying a house for your ex-wife?”
    He sighed. “It’s a long story and I hope you’ll give me the chance to tell you about it.”
    I wasn’t sure I believed him, but a client’s martial status was no concern of mine. Not that he was a client.
    “While this is very flattering,” I finally said, “I’m going to hang up.”
    “Wait!”
    For some inexplicable reason, I held on.
    “Please, Lisa. May I call you Lisa?”
    “Mr. O’Neal, I’m really not up to this. Yesterday was my first day back to work. My hu sband passed away last month...” My eyes filled.
    “Oh. I’m sorry,” Terry said.
    “Thank you, but please don’t call again.”
    “Let’s start again. I’m serious about buying a house and you might as well get the commission.”
    I hesitated. Our insurance had refused to pay after Mac’s treatments reached five–hundred thousand, so we’d spent all of our savings. Even after Mac’s insurance and small pension came through and I sold the condo, I’d still have to watch every penny.
    “Well...”
    “You think about it and I’ll call you tomorrow. Then you can do your thing—you know, get all the information you need to help me find Betty a house.”
    Should I? He did have a nice voice, and he sounded sincere. B ut, it wouldn’t be a good idea.
    “I’d be happy to give you the name of someone else in the office to help you,” I told him, thinking of Nina, the office receptionist and a single mother who was studying to be a realtor. She would love the referral.
    “No, that won’t do. It’s you I want, and I intend to call you again to persuade you to change your mind.”
    I punched the disconnect button. Of all the nerve.
    Heading west on I-10 to the Redlands office, my cell phone rang again. I glanced at the ID, relieved it was my brother-in-law rather than that nut from the open house.
    “Hey, babe,” Stan said, “how’s it going?”
    I told him about my first day back and mentioned the O’Neals and the morning call.
    “He bothering you?” he asked. “If he is, I’ll give him an attitude