Free The Secret Lives of Housewives by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd Page B

about half of it wooded, a brook in the back with a decorative bridge over it, a sprawling house with a three-car attached garage, a small dining porch off of what was probably a huge kitchen, and a large in-the-ground pool at the side with cabanas and carefully groomed landscaping around a small waterfall. Angie and Eve were lightweights, but Cait…
    She had never actually met Cait’s husband but she knew him from his reputation around town. Rich and successful, he probably made as much money as Monica did, but the other two were not in her league. She didn’t want to come across as the high-powered, hundred—no, she vowed—eighty-hour-a-week executive she was, and she certainly didn’t want to get into the myriad ways she lured and kept clients.
    Monica pulled into her driveway, waved at one of her neighbors, and thought over the pile of work she had for the weekend, prioritizing and organizing. As she pressed the remote to close the garage door behind her she pulled out her PDA and made a few notes. When Angie said there was a lot of pressure in her job, she didn’t know the half of it.
    As she wandered from the garage to her front door she looked around at things she seldom noticed. While heat radiated off the streets, the well-tended grass and plantings didn’t wilt, even in the midday sun, watered by the extensive sprinkler system that came on in the wee small hours. Tall maples, sycamores, and birch were planted at carefully calculated intervals to give shade and comfort to the residents while stands of pine and cedar dotted the area.
    In the distance she could hear the sounds of balls being hit on one of the tennis courts and children playing in the pool. She sighed. The common charges were exorbitant, but she loved Evergreen Estates, the most expensive town houses along the river. You could see a section of the Palisades from the clubhouse that she’d only visited a few times for owners’ meetings. If she had the time she could play bridge or chess there—if she played bridge or chess. She could learn and it might be relaxing. Her overly long workweeks were what allowed her to afford all this, however. If she slowed down just a bit, she wondered, would her income suffer much? She had to slow down. Coronary.
    Sam was waiting for her so she ruffled his fur, then snapped on his leash and headed for the edge of the complex where most of the residents walked their animals. Only one dog or two cats per residence, the house rules said, and she knew that notices went out, then fines were levied if anyone disobeyed. As Sam sniffed at much-used trees and bushes, she allowed her mind to focus on the media plan she was working up for a breakfast cereal.
    â€œWell, hello,” a male voice called from about ten feet away, causing her head to snap around.
    It was the hunky guy from the yoga class, walking a gorgeous golden retriever. The dog was tugging at his leash, giving Sam the once-over while the guy did the same to her. She had to admit that he was truly candy for the eyes, with a great body, now barely hidden in khaki shorts, a tight red T-shirt, and well-worn loafers. His ebony hair was long enough to be caught at the back of his neck with a leather thong and his piercing blue eyes had long dark lashes that any woman would envy.
    She tried to post the “not interested” look on her face but he grinned anyway, his white teeth emphasizing his smooth, lightly tanned skin. God save her from men who thought that because they were gorgeous and they’d seen you occasionally from a distance, they could do the “get to know you better” bit. This dame wasn’t buying it! “Hello,” she said, tugging, trying to get Sam to move on. He’d seen the golden, however, and wanted to get a closer look. “We have to get along, Sam.”
    â€œThey just want to get to know each other,” the guy said, and Monica didn’t miss the double meaning.
    Oh,