Natalie’s patience ran out. She shook her hairbrush at her daughter. “You have a commitment. In this family, if we say we’re going to do something, we do it.”
For once, Jill didn’t talk back.
Natalie descended the spiral staircase, her heels clack clacking with every step. In the TV room, she kissed Justin’s cherubic cheek and shooed Lady off the sofa.
“Don’t be late for practice!” she yelled at J.J. through his closed door. She heard him singing “Fernando” and smiled to herself. J.J. had gotten hooked on ABBA last summer and played theirGreatest Hitsall the time.
Natalie remembered when music had been a huge part of her life. Back when she was single, living in a shoebox of an apartment in the Village, she’d been surrounded by music. And so much more. There’d been art and restaurants and such interesting people.
She and her girlfriends spent their weekends in smoky clubs. She’d heard the Doors, the Byrds, Cream, the Yardbirds, and the Band. She’d rubbed shoulders with Andy Warhol andhad drinks with Franz Kline and Roy Lichtenstein. A dozen photographers had asked her to model for them. Other artists wanted her to be their muse. But Natalie’s ambitions had nothing to do with art. She was going to be a successful scientist.
She’d been on the right path, too. She’d graduated with a double-major in bio and chem and was hired as a lab assistant for a drug company in Brooklyn. She was the only woman working with a group of scientists studying genetic change and protein expression. Her job was to run experiments to help isolate and analyze DNA, RNA, and proteins. She was fascinated by the work and never tired of staring at bacteria through her microscope. One day, she hoped to be known as the woman who helped eradicate E. coli.
Back then, she still dreamed big.
But after her kind, encouraging boss had a fatal heart attack on the golf course, everything changed. His replacement, the son of the company’s CEO, didn’t see Natalie as an integral member of the team. He saw her as a conquest.
Ken Hoffman.
“Nope,” Natalie muttered as she slid into the driver’s seat of the station wagon. “I’m not letting you in. Not today.”
It had been years since the man had invaded her thoughts. She’d pushed that asshole’s smug face into the far recesses of her mind. This was how she protected herself from the memory of what he’d done. How he’d ruined her career and made her a pariah in the scientific community. No one would hire her after the disaster. No one would have believed her if she’d told what really happened the night of the fire.
Ken Hoffman had threatened to punish her if she didn’t give him what he wanted. When she refused, he’d made good on his threat. He’d destroyed one of his own labs and blamed her for the loss of expensive equipment and valuable research.
All because she’d fought him when he tried to rape her.
He’d made a pass at her before, but she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested.
“Playing hard to get, eh? That’s fine with me, babe. I like a challenge.”
He got tired of chasing her very quickly, and one afternoon, after the staff meeting was over, he told her that he needed to speak with her in private. And then he shoved her face against the conference table.
She’d bucked and writhed as he held her head down with one hand and pushed her skirt up with the other. He forced his body between her legs, pinning her with his weight.
She shouted for him to stop. Tried to twist her head so she could bite his hand. He’d just sniggered and tugged at her blouse, ripping off all the delicate pearl buttons at once. His meaty fingers had yanked at her bra, then grabbed one of her breasts. He squeezed her soft flesh with such force that she’d whimpered in pain.
“You know you want it,” he’d growled, flecking her ear with spittle. “I’ve seen how you shake your tight ass and your perfect titties under that lab coat. I’ve seen you smile at me. No more playing around, baby. I’ve got what you want right here.”
She’d elbowed him as hard as she could, right in his paunch. Then she’d reared back, clocking his face with the top of her head. She freed her legs and ran out of the building, leaving him with a bloody nose and a deflating erection.
Her hands were shaking so badly that it had taken her three tries to unlock her car. When she finally got in and started the engine, she’d kept expecting to see Ken Hoffman in her rearview mirror. As she drove away and the lab receded behind her, she hadn’t known if she could ever go back.
Ken Hoffman had made the choice for her. After all, she’d dared refuse a man who always got what he wanted.
Get a grip. You’re not that naive girl from Wisconsin anymore, Natalie told herself as she backed out of the garage.
She needed to be sharp today. She was meeting with new clients this morning, a young couple looking to relocate from Queens. They had two young children and wanted a house with a yard in a good school district. The husband was a doctor, but they were on a tight budget as he had taken out two loans to pay for college and medical school.
It had been a stroke of good luck that Natalie had answered the office phone when Dr. Sherif called earlier in the week.
She should’ve transferred the call to Rick. His was the next name on the sales board, but he’d already gone under contract on two houses and would be closing on a third before the end of the month.
The spaces next to Natalie’s name were still blank, so she took down Dr. Sherif’s information and promised to dedicate herself toward finding him the perfect home. He seemed pleased by her enthusiasm and asked for a meeting to review current listings in their price range.
She already knew that there were only two houses available in the good school district, and one of them was very close to the train tracks. The McCreedy house was in a lovely, family-friendly neighborhood. Natalie just had to convince Dr. and Mrs. Sherif that it was the house for them.
Just yesterday, Gina had bragged that her cape would be under contract by the end of the week, so Natalie saw no reason to include it in the listings she planned to show the Sherifs. Instead, she compiled homes for sale at much higher prices than the McCreedy house in an effort to make her listing more attractive.
