The Cheater Wore Stilettos

By Melinda Nolen

Juliana Porter was caught. Now she had to find a way out of her trouble. But there aren’t enough sad eyes and pouted lips to make this mistake go away. Her husband Cristian Rodriguez won't allow it after being burned by her in the past. Once Juliana’s deceit comes to light, both must come to terms with the new directions of their shattered lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melinda Nolen
• Release date: Jan 4, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465752994

Melinda Nolen

From Chicago, IL

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Juliana Porter sat on the edge of the coffee brown and apricot orange linen dressed bed as she put on her black four-inch stilettos. She didn't really care that it was the first full week of November in Chicago. The cold temperatures and possibility of snow didn't deter her in the slightest. She loved her stilettos. They were always her most favorite part of her outfits, and she always seemed to have a pair – including boots – to match.

Dressed in three-quarters of his traditional black suit, her husband Cristian Cris Rodriguez stood in front of the mirror and began to fix his tie while the two continued their morning argument, one of several in their eleven year marriage. Juliana barely listened to what her husband was saying. Instead, the chocolate-haired beauty with porcelain white skin leaned over to fix the shoe on her right foot. Wearing a black satin robe that was loosely tied in the middle, her breasts appeared to fall out of her bra as she leaned over. Still into her shoes, she extended her leg out in front of her to make sure her nude stockings, stilettos, and leg looked perfect.

Cris was thirty-one, stood at 6’1, had a butter pecan complexion and jet black hair. He was always a quiet guy unless somebody pissed him off. That was the only time that he ever raised his voice. As many arguments he's had with Juliana, he never got angry enough to yell or physically hurt her. Frustrated, all the time, but yelling wasn't his thing. Even during this current round, his voice remained at a constant level of decorum. Though he never raised his voice, he finally got louder in Juliana's head. You spend most of your time at that job of yours," she chimed.

His cherry red tie fell down without control when he turned to face his wife, who looked up at him with sad blue eyes. He hated it when his wife looked at him like that. It was another one of her methods to make him back down and play nicely in the sandbox. Unfortunately for her, it didn't work this time. That's not entirely true. I've cut back on my hours since you complained about it the last time, he told her, then turned around to face the mirror.

I just want you to spend a little more time with me, she said standing up to face him. Her blue eyes sparkled in the morning light like that diamond and sapphire star necklace around her neck. Her face was stern but still had an inviting glow to her glare. Is that a crime?

Cris continued the task of fixing his tie while Juliana looked at his reflection in the mirror. How can I spend more time with you when you're hardly here? When you're not working, you're in those damn clubs, he said. You're a 30-year-old woman with a 9-year-old daughter. Act like it! I already work from 9:00 to 3:00. I'm not cutting back any more hours. So find a way to deal with that.

How am I supposed to do that Cris?

I don’t know. Find a way. You always do.

Juliana threw her hands onto her hips in a fit and scoffed like a child whose mother just dejected their want. She grabbed hold of her robe's belt and untied it completely. Her robe opened down the middle giving her reluctant husband a peek of her matching black lace bra and panties. He looked at her appealing body in the mirror, but refused to get riled in any way at his wife's actions and words. Nothing doing sweetheart. You need black underwear and Vodka to sway me.

With his final word said, he fixed his hair in the mirror and left the room for no more than forty-five seconds. Juliana scoffed and said, How about if I find a way to get rid of you? That would help me deal with it.

Cris came back into the room with his black briefcase and eyed his wife. What was that?

Nothing, she said, walking across the room to grab her crisp white long-sleeved shirt and black pinstripe skirt. It doesn't even matter now. I have to get ready for work so I can't make Lauren's lunch. You do it.

Right on cue, Lauren appeared at her parents’ bedroom door wearing a dark blue sweater, white shirt underneath, and dark blue jeans. She was your average nine-year-old girl...a mixture of her mother’s porcelain white skin and her father's butter pecan complexion. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that showed off her big brown eyes - another characteristic from her dad.

Happy to break up her parents’ fight, she asked, Mom, where's my lunch?

Juliana grabbed the jacket to compliment her outfit and prepared to walk to the master bathroom. Your father's going to make it for you. I have to get ready for work.

Lauren looked at her daddy and smiled a bit. Okay. Come on daddy. The bus will be here soon. Leaving the room, she knew that her parents were about to finish their argument. They were becoming famous for their early morning arguments.

Cris stopped packing his briefcase long enough to glare at Juliana. You don't want to do anything when it comes to Lauren.

Startled from his statement, she hurried to defend herself. That's a load of crap and you know that! He left the room before she could finish. She ran to the door with her robe blowing in the wind behind her and yelled after him. I am so sick of this! Eleven years of marriage and this is the thanks I get? This is how you treat me? But, I love you anyway! The door was slammed putting an end to the morning melee.

CHAPTER 2

Painted in a shade of off white, the magnificent kitchen included four oblong windows that provided many opportunities for the sunshine to light up Cris’ favorite room of the house. In the middle was an antique white dining table. The elegant curves and turned legs of the matching chairs gave the kitchen a soft country feel. Above the table was a three-light chandelier complete with a black matte finish. Lauren sat at the table cutting her corned beef sandwich diagonally while Cris stood behind the matching antique white counter shoving an apple into a brown paper bag.

From the kitchen, the two heard the doorbell ring but neither one budged to answer the call. Juliana skipped down the stairs into the living room buttoning the last button on her shirt. The taupe painted living room was the perfect compliment to the cherry wood colored hard floor. A pearl olive sofa sat on the back wall opposite the front door but behind the rich espresso finished coffee table. Juliana moved over a clear vase of day old red roses on the table before the bell rang a second time.

Over her need to correct the location of the vase, she finally answered the door. A tall man with the same complexion as Cris wearing a black fedora and a long black worsted wool coat stood on the opposite side. Is my brother still here?

Juliana smiled a bit and said, Yes and he’s in a fantastic mood. He’s all yours, Carlos.

With some bass into her voice, she yelled to Cris that his brother was here. All right! he sniped back.

Sometimes your brother gets on my nerves, but I guess that’s Cris for you. Come in. It’s a little chilly.

I remember feeling like that growing up, Carlos said entering the home. The two smiled at each other. But he’s my older brother, so I have to love him.

Well, I have to finish getting ready, Juliana whispered, turning to leave. Carlos stared at her as she sashayed up the stairs. In her mind, she knew that he was staring which is why she put an extra wiggle in her step. The look Juliana’s way was anything but innocent on his part.

Outside, a horn honked twice causing Lauren to run into the living room with her father closely behind holding her lunch. Your bus is here. Hurry, hurry.

Lauren put on her pink and white down coat as fast as she could in that short amount of time. Cris made sure to wrap her pink scarf around her neck multiple times just like any other concerned parent during wintertime in Chicago. He topped off her outfit with a girly pink hat complete with a pom-pom on top. She took her lunch, gave her father a quick squeeze, and said Bye daddy. Bye Uncle Carlos. See you at school.

I sure will see you there, said Carlos.

Standing by the door, Cris waved to his daughter and watched as she got on the bus. Once the bus pulled off, he closed the door – happy to keep the cold air outside – and turned half-way to face Carlos. His mood went back to being annoyed when he gave his brother a crisp, What do you want?

I’m here to get those documents for the teacher I work with, said Carlos with a little pep in his voice. You did look at them, right?

Yeah, I did. Are they going to pay for my advice?

With sad puppy dog eyes and a poked out pout, Carlos looked at his brother and said, Can’t it be free this time? I’d appreciate it. The teacher is kind of a friend of mine. That’s why they asked me to have you look them over. They know that you’re a great lawyer.

You have friends? Whatever. I’ll jot down a few notes.

Leaving the room to retrieve the paperwork from his home office, Carlos decided to bring up a sore subject. You know, I don’t mean to get into your business…

Returning in time to stop his brother, he gave him a firm, Then don’t.

But I think that Juliana is getting restless with you. Maybe you should do something to spice things up or bring you two closer together. How about a spa day for two? Or maybe you can go to one of those sexy little couple retreats. Their commercials are on television all the time.

Cris exhaled loud enough for the neighbors to hear and shot Carlos a look of annoyance. I know it might be a little too early in the morning for this kind of language, but shut the fuck up.

Carlos nodded his head in contempt, used to the insults. You always did have a problem listening to your younger brother especially when he’s right.

Irritated enough, Cris pulled his brother by the coat sleeve and led him to the front door. Take the papers and get out. I’ve had enough of you today and seeing you this early in this morning…not good for anybody.

But the advice…

Have them call me. You need to go now.

Carlos scoffed as Juliana slid down the stairs with quiet steps and her hands full. She carried both hers and Cris’ briefcases with his suit jacket thrown over her left arm. Fully dressed in her flirty version of a business suit – jacket just above the waist and skirt well above the knee with a side split four inches up her thigh – she glanced around the room and at Carlos. Still here?

I’m getting ready to go right now. Cris wants me gone pronto. Juliana chuckled and handed Cris his briefcase and jacket.

Thanks.

You’re welcome darling, she said with love and sweetness in her soft voice, the total opposite of how she felt no more than seven minutes ago.

I’m gone, Carlos said.

Cris breathed a sigh of relief and said, Finally. His younger brother left after throwing a scowl of sarcasm. Juliana glanced over at her husband as he reviewed some more paperwork before placing it into his briefcase.

You don’t like your brother or something?

Not when he’s being a smart ass, and you know that. She nodded in agreement while he completed his suit with the jacket. He then grabbed their coats from the closet near the front door, both black cashmere and full-length, and instinctively helped his wife with hers.

Thank you honey, she told him in that sweet voice again.

No problem. What time are you coming home?

She sighed and removed the traces of her hair from the inside of her coat. I don’t know. I have this job way across town today. If traffic is terrible and it starts snowing, then who knows how long it’ll take for me to come home.

Cris grabbed his briefcase and looked at her. All right, I’ll see you whenever. He kissed his wife and quietly said goodbye. She pulled her husband back into a passionate and sensual kiss that left a smudge of her red lipstick on his lips. After giving his lips a wipe, she smiled seductively at her confused husband, who was in the end riled up from his wife’s kiss of passion.

Goodbye Cris.

Another quick kiss and he was gone. Seconds after he walked into the cold morning air, Juliana’s phone rang to the tone of some crazy rock song. It was different than her usual 80s love song ringtone. This one was special for its own naughty reason. She rummaged through her black Prada purse to find her phone and answered with a sweet, Hello?

It’s me. Can I see you today or what?

Juliana’s mood perked up at the sound of the man’s voice. I told Cris that I have a job across town. That should buy us some time. Meet me at the spot at 3:30pm. If you’re not there by 3:35, I'm gone. She hung up her phone, gathered her belongings, and left her home with a smile on her face.

CHAPTER 3

Cris walked into the Redfield and Rodriguez law firm he owned with his longtime friend fifteen minutes before 9:00 on that Monday morning. Their firm was on the first floor of the five-story building that was located in an area about thirty minutes from downtown. The dark lighting always made him feel as though he was working in a sinister place - like a prison. No matter how brightly the sun shined, the black walls made the place look gloomy. He had hoped for a much brighter décor but his partner liked the darkness. Cris just figured it gave him some sort of a reprieve whenever he had to come in after a long weekend of drinking and partying with his fleet of young women.

Upon entering the building, he noticed that their trustworthy receptionist Tina Durant wasn't at her desk. Petite with hair darker than black tar, she was the best according to her bosses. She was always punctual, sweet as a lollipop, had the coffee ready just the way they liked it, and made sure to throw out the people they never wanted to see. Though she wasn't at her desk, Cris knew that she was somewhere in the building as he could smell her sweet perfume. She was the only person in the building who smelled like lemon, marshmallows, and chocolate during the winter time.

A turn to the left from the front door, he made the short trip to his office and put his briefcase onto one of the two chairs that sat before his desk. The brown copper walls in his office were complimented with brown and black furniture including a desk, two three-drawer file cabinets, and a rolling executive chair that gave him the option to lean back if he chose to do so. Behind his desk was a square window that gave him a great view of the city.

His coat came off with ease and was hung up when he smelled the aroma of the day's fresh coffee. Cris walked out of his office and down the dimly lit hallway. He always felt as though the hallway could use brighter lights, but once again his partner liked the spooky vibe it gave off.

In the lounge at the end of the hallway was Anthony Tony Redfield pouring himself a cup of coffee. Tony stuck true to his favorite morning ritual - serving himself some black coffee with three packs of sugar and not wearing his suit jacket. Standing at 6’2", the thirty-one-year-old had dark brown hair that always stood up in the front thanks to whatever hair products he wore on a daily basis. On most days, he had a goofy smile and a personality that only his best friends and parents could love. He wasn't exactly a mean bastard, but he did borderline on being cocky with his arrogant attitude.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Cris and flashed him his million dollar magazine cover smile. Happy Monday.

Happy Monday? Did you have a date last night?

Oh, yeah, Tony smiled, who then took a sip of his coffee.

Cris shook his head and chuckled a bit. She must've put out.

How did you know?

Cris grabbed a cup, began to pour himself some coffee, and said, Because any other Monday you're dragging yourself into the building with that hangover look. It's really ugly.

With a thick but fake Southern drawl, he chuckled, You know me so well. Did you get any last night?

What is this, high school?

Struck out, he said with delight, pleased that he had trumped his partner at something. The guys were friends indeed, but there was always a subtle competition between the two and Tony mostly felt that his partner had the lead on several occasions. He was very well educated, a beast in the courtroom, handsome, and married with a daughter.

Frustrated, Cris tried to explain his situation to his friend. Last night, I got an argument from my wife that continued into the morning. He left the lounge area with his cup in hand.

Oh, what now?

Tony followed as Cris walked back up the long hallway to the Tina’s desk and thumbed through any memos on her desk.

The same stuff she's always ranting about. She wants me to cut back on my hours – for the hundredth time. She’s never satisfied. She lives in a big ass house with a wonderful husband and daughter, but she bitches all day long about nothing. Then she's all over me the next minute like nothing happened. After eleven years of marriage, I can honestly say that I don't know that woman anymore.

Tony sipped his coffee before offering his friend some less than sensible advice. Well, maybe she’s bipolar or a schizo. There was that personality that only a friend could love. He hardly ever told you the things you really wanted to hear. Just a smart ass remark or two that made you want to strangle him. Or maybe she likes having all of the attention on her and she'll get it from anybody. You think she’s cheating? She looks like the type to cheat.

I wouldn't put it pass her. Man, if she's cheating on me…I can't even finish that thought.

Tony put his hand onto Cris’ shoulder. Oh, come on. I was just fucking with you. Relax. Who’d want her but you? She’s old. He walked back to his office chuckling to himself. Cris had no choice but to shake his head and continue to look through the memos on the Tina’s desk.

CHAPTER 4

Sauntering into her office building about five minutes before 9:00, Juliana could barely remove her black oversized Chanel sunglasses from her semi-frozen face before her receptionist Mielke jumped up from behind her desk and said, You’re finally here. Mielke was an African-American/Asian woman wearing a closely cropped brunette mane in a classic bob style. She had been the receptionist at Porter and Trump for three years and grew up in the same neighborhood as Brandon.

What’s going on? asked Juliana.

There’s somebody here to see you, she said. She’s waiting for you. Mielke quickly pointed in the direction of their waiting area. Juliana turned to her left and saw a woman wearing a red belted wool coat sitting there. The wool coat had six buttons down the front and six buttons down the back of the coat. It was something that a fashion designer would wear. The area was big enough to accommodate seven black high chairs. The woman sat directly in the middle, possibly hoping for somebody to notice her. She turned back to her receptionist.

Tell her that I don’t start work until 9 o’clock, she said sternly. I have about five minutes. She left Mielke behind to deliver the news and walked to her office, which was about ten steps to the right of the building’s front doors. As an interior decorator, it was only fitting that her office contained red walls and was decorated with black furniture and white accessories. Juliana stood by the door, threw her coat and briefcase onto the sofa in her office, and swung around to the coffee machine, which was located in what she calls the snack bar.

Morning sunshine, greeted Brandon Trump, her trustful business partner, who stood in the snack bar putting sugar into his cup. Brandon was the kind of guy you could take home to your parents. He was African-American, thirty-two-years-old, stood at 5’11", had black hair, loved wearing jeans and a nice pair of shoes, and had enough charm to sweeten you to give him your last fifteen cents. Brandon and Juliana met when they were both starting out as interior decorators back in 1995. They always had that outcast buzz about them because they liked to design and decorate outside the norm. Neither one was afraid to suggest funky prints nor odd colors to their clients. It was one of the reasons why they got along so well. The other reason – Brandon wouldn’t take any shit from Juliana. He was the guy in her life that told her all of the bold and true statements she didn’t want to hear and had no problems telling her.

Your new client is waiting for you per your snippy request. You all right this morning? Did you have another fight with Cris?

Yeah but I feel fine, she smiled as she poured herself a big cup of coffee. I have a little date this afternoon with someone very special.

Brandon smiled back and asked, Your husband?

Juliana slipped some creamer and two packs of sugar into her coffee and somewhat grinned, Mm, yes. That's right, with my husband. We argue a lot and then we make up. That's the way it goes for us. It's probably 9:00 now. I guess I better get to work. Instead of making the effort to begin the trip back to the waiting area, she took a long slurp of her morning coffee.

Brandon nodded his head as he stirred his coffee. Yeah, you better. Your new client seems a little pissed off because she had to wait.

Too bad, Juliana nagged. I’m the decorator around here. She needs me. She took another sip of her coffee and finally made her way over to the woman. The strides in her walk were slow and long – not quick and short. Hi. I'm Juliana Porter, she said extending her right hand to her client.

The woman looked up and proceeded to stand to shake her hand. I'm Mirabelle Taylor. I just bought the house on California Avenue. Juliana quickly scanned her latest client, who stood at 5’7", had flawless olive skin, light brown eyes, and black hair that never seemed to be out of place. Her red lips and coat stood out from the black skirt and leather black croc skin knee-high stiletto boots she wore. The black leather satchel bag she carried was top of the line quality. Juliana knew that she was dealing with some kind of rich, well-known woman here and simply adored her sense of style.

Fantastic, she replied. After a quick handshake, Juliana extended her arm out in the direction of her office. Let’s go into my office and cook up a conversation about putting some glamour into your new house.

CHAPTER 5

The brightness of the one o’clock sun beamed through the cracks of the blinds in Cris’ office. He spent the last ten minutes of his lunch break going through the case briefs stacked into a neat pile onto his desk by Tina. One reason why Tina and Cris got along so well is because they’re both sticklers when it comes to being neat. Disheveled papers turned them off. After reviewing a brief, he put the papers back into a neat pile on the left of the unread briefs. A glance at the clock and he realized that his meeting was about to start in five minutes. Feeling the rush, he retrieved a folder of paperwork from his desk drawer and started to head out the door of his office until his mother Valencia stopped him in his tracks.

His mother was a short woman – about 5’4 though she made a habit of telling most friends that she was 5’6. She had the same butter pecan tone to her face and wore pale pink lipstick, which made her look sickly. Her white fur coat, a gift from Cris last Christmas, was tied in the middle and clung to her petite body.