Novels by Eugene

Clara picked out a dress she had never worn. She had bought it on a whim but never came around to putting it on. It was a deep emerald dress that was fitted at the waist and fell into a flowing skirt that stopped at her ankle. It had thin straps and a small slit along one thigh. She paired it with silver heels and delicate earrings, her hair pulled into a neat bun just as Oliver had suggested. A few loose strands framed her face. Some lipstick and mascara, and she was ready for the charity gala. She heard Alexander's click open and grabbed her silver purse. Alexander took two steps before his vision blurred. He stopped, one hand resting against the railing. He closed his eyes and waited for it to pass. Behind him, he heard Clara's door open, followed by the click of heels against the tiles. He straightened his back and turned to face her. His lips parted slightly. She stood at the top of the stairs in a green dress. Alexander blinked repeatedly and closed his mouth. "I'm comi

Jade listened as Clara rambled on about how annoying her husband was, how he had figured out her little plan and, worst of all, ordered takeout for breakfast and ate it right in front of her. She was going to up the ante, Clara was yelling through the speaker. Jade pulled the phone away from her ears so her eardrums wouldn't burst. A public display pissed him off the last time. Maybe she should do it again. She'd embarrass him in front of the whole city if she had to. And then she went silent. Jade knew exactly what her silence meant. "Clara?" she called. On the other side of the phone, Clara let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm going to call you soon, okay? Love you." Clara hung up the phone before Jade could reply. Clara knew exactly what she was going to do. She left her room for the first time since she had stormed off. She headed straight for the kitchen. She'd bake Oliver some cupcakes. It was the perfect thing to lower his defenses. And if his defenses were

Clara was in the kitchen, stirring pots, slicing vegetables and tasting vegetables. Her apron was covered in stains when she heard the door open. She listened as Alexander walked in. She looked up at the clock. He was earlier than usual. She considered asking him how his day went. She knew her little drama the day before hadn't cost him anything important, but she still felt a sting of guilt. She let the thoughts linger in her mind before they floated away. She could hear his footsteps draw closer. She raised an eyebrow. Why was he coming here? He always went straight to his room. Alexander's house had never felt so warm and soft. The strong scent of herbs and spices surrounded him the moment he opened the door. He kept his briefcase gently by the door and unraveled his tie. He turned his gaze to the divorce papers he held in his hands. A smile tried to force itself out, but he exhaled hard and returned his expression to its usual blank look. He thought of the

Clara was up at the crack of dawn. She paced across her room with her fingers in her mouth. She had hoped a good night's rest would flush away the guilt that left her chest heavy. She had a feeling Alexander would leave the house earlier than he usually did, so she waited. She heard his door slide open and rushed out of her room. She paused as she held the door knob and took a deep breath before she pulled open the door. Alexander was already halfway down the stairs. "Good morning," she called. Alexander paused, his hands held the railings. He turned to look up at her. She had expected a cold glare or a sign of annoyance. Instead, he stared at her blankly. "Good morning," he replied and continued to walk down the stairs. Clara played with her fingers. She needed to know if she had put him in trouble. "Alexander... Did I?" The words were stuck in her throat. "The meeting, was it?" She swallowed and pinched her thumb. "Everything went smoothly, Clara." It was t

By 12 noon, Clara had a lunch box in hand and she walked confidently out of the elevators on the forty-fifth floor of Blackwell Tower. The receptionist recognized her and gave a small wave. She waved back and leaned on her desk and removed her sunglasses. "Is he busy?" Clara whispered. "Yes, he's currently in a meeting." Clara nodded and walked to his office. She pushed open the double doors and walked into his empty office. She sat on his seat and placed her legs on the desk. She used her legs to push his pen, stapler and whatever else she could reach out of place. She placed her hands behind her head and leaned back. Smiling brightly. She couldn't have asked for better timing. Just then, Oliver walked in. Clara put her legs down and sat up straight. "Mrs Fo... Clara." Oliver cleared his throat and pushed his rounded glasses up his nose. "Miss Clara, Mr Ford will join you shortly. He's in a meeting." She nodded, her eyes fell to the lunch box on the desk. "Where's th

Clara wasn't going to let his lack of reaction stop her. Everybody had a limit, and she would find his. She dumped all his white shirts into a washing machine, adding her pink shirt, the one she got at a thrift store that left the water pink every time she washed it. She let it run for two cycles before pulling them out. They were absolutely perfect. Not too pink, but just enough that you'd notice something was wrong. She hung them to dry before placing them back in his closet. They were slightly pink, badly hung, and she didn't bother straightening them out. Next, she pulled out all his suit jackets and pants and sent them to the laundry. She hadn't been this excited in a long time. This one had to get a reaction out of him. It just had to. When she heard him pull in, she jumped from her bed and raced to the couch. She sat on it, flipping through a random book she had picked up as she left her room. He walked in with his briefcase in hand as usual, and his tie loosened.