Read Know Her, Love Her: Daisy & Belmont, Book ONE for Free Online Page B

prick.”
    “What?”
    “She said you were in the shower. Were you?”
    “I probably was,” he says as if it’s nothing serious.
    “Are you having sex with other women?”
    “Not other women.”
    “Are you having sex with Stacy Pruitt?”  
    He’s silent again.  
    “Nice talking to you. Good-bye,” I say.
    “Daisy!”
    “What?”
    “I was probably in the shower. She shouldn’t have answered my phone.”
    “Have you had sex with her recently?” I’m stern.
    He takes a long pause.
    “Belmont?” I ask.
    “Daisy, I don’t want to lie to you.”
    “Then you have?”
    “I don’t want to answer that over the telephone. Let’s have dinner tonight.”
    I’m speechless. This is one of those moments where I can let the truth TKO me. I could miss my flight, go to my mom’s house, wrap myself in a blanket, and sleep until my misery subsides.  
    “Oh well,” I say with remarkable pose. “We’ll figure out how to split amicably later. You never made me sign a prenup—”
    “Daisy—”
    “You should’ve.”
    “Babe—”
    “But you’re lucky, because I don’t want half. I don’t want anything from you. Just file for the divorce, and I’ll sign.”
    “Daisy, let’s have dinner.”
    “I don’t want to have dinner,” I whimper. I’m sobbing, and I can’t make myself stop.
    “Daisy, honey, don’t cry…”
    “I have to go… I can’t have this conversation right now.” I end the call.  

CHAPTER FOUR
    Getting Down to Business

    Just because I know my husband and it’s likely that he’ll try to intercept me, I cancel the car for hire that he often uses and call a taxi. I also purchase a brand-new ticket for a flight on a different airline that leaves an hour and a half later than my original flight, and I fly coach like I did in the early days of my career. The major difference between first class and coach is the legroom.  
    Once I land at O’Hare, I take a taxi to my mom and stepdad’s urban condo. The building, which is the shortest among giants, faces a park with lots of trees and flowerbeds. When the cab driver takes my bags to the door, I have a funny feeling that I’m being watched. I turn around to examine the area. It’s seven o’clock in the evening. People are jogging, walking their dogs, pushing strollers, playing soccer, or just lounging on the park benches. Not one soul is paying attention to me. I half expect to see Belmont somewhere out there.
    On the table near the doorway, I find a note written on behalf of my mother. She had the refrigerator stocked with foods that I eat, but if she missed anything, then there’s a grocery store down the street. The housecleaners are scheduled to come every Tuesday and Friday. They have their own key.
    I sigh as I look around the living room. The space is large and full of furniture. This is the first time I’ve been here, so I leave my bags by the door and take a self-guided tour. There are four bedrooms, four bathrooms, a gigantic chef’s kitchen, a great room, a den, two offices, and a dining room. There’s also an elevator that stops at all three levels, plus the terrace. The condo is larger and more modern than I expected. Their house in Pacific Palisades isn’t this big.
    Gluttonous or not, I take the elevator to the third flood. The master bedroom has an infinity bathtub in the en suite bathroom, but I choose to sleep in one of the cozier guest rooms. My cell phone rings as I unpack my suitcase.  
    “Hi, Mom,” I say after looking at the name on the screen.
    “What’s happening? Jack has been calling me all day. He wants the address to where you’re staying.”
    “Did you give it to him?” I shimmy out of my dress. I forgot how sticky I get flying in the main cabin.  
    “No, but he was persistent. Did something else happen between you two?” she says in a trivializing tone.  
    “He’s seeing someone else.”  
    “Well, of course he is. Men are always the first to stick their dicks where they don’t