Beverly Marsh Novels & Stories

Inside the east wing of the mansion, Liora sat before the vanity mirror while stylists completed the final touches on her makeup. A small smile spread across her lips as her reflection stared calmly back at her. She was so beautiful, exquisite looking. The makeup artist stepped back nervously. “Miss Morgan, we’re done.” Liora nodded slightly. “Thank you.” Beverley sat nearby scrolling through her phone while sipping champagne lazily. “You know,” she said casually, “if you keep looking this pretty, I might actually marry you.” She said and Liora laughed softly. Beverley grinned, “I hope your sister doesn’t combust when she sees you tonight” she teased and Liora snickered.

She returned to the table Deronda was sitting at with Margo, a black woman who had lived in the Bronx all her life and she stayed drunk. “Lookin’ good, Bev,” Margo slurred. “You hadn’t missed a step.” “Of course not,” Beverly said with a grin and sat down. “Looks like this Mr. For Tonight might not show,” Deronda said. “He’s an hour away from here. He’ll probably be her in ten minutes or so,” Beverly said. “In the meantime, I’m hungry,” Margo slurred. “I am, too,” Deronda added. “I need another beer and I wouldn’t mind a snack,” Beverly said. “Let’s combine our money and get some food. I’m sure Bruce will be hungry when he gets here.”

Kayla sighed. “I’ll try to make it happen. But heal first, Bev. I’m securing a new TV role for you, okay? You need to get back to being THE BEVERLY WALES.” Beverly smiled. “Me too. I want to get back to myself… and make Damien fall for me again, so we can go back to how things used to be. I miss him.” “He’s married, Bev,” Kayla whispered. “I know. She’s a kid—she’s not Damien’s standard. He just wants to make me sad and angry. That’s why he went for her,” Beverly chuckled…

She’s also wild like the other girls he bedded. Meanwhile, Aisha had just arrived in front of the company building. She was there to invite her husband to eat his favorite food she had just prepared. She knew Duke hadn’t eaten yet because their board meeting was held so early, so she thought of cooking, crafting, and bringing it to his office.

I trust you’ll handle this the same way. Yours, Arthur Pemberton I read it twice. Then I folded it into my jacket pocket, and walked to my room. I on my bed. Dr. Catherine Marsh. Daniel Marsh’s mother. A third Marsh. One who had been there from the beginning. One who had helped build the very pastoral care framework that had failed her own son thirty years later. One who had watched everything that happened at Mercer and Blackwood from a position that nobody had known about. One who wanted to meet me.

“Just helping Bev with her NYU application essay. She wanted a second opinion.” Beverley nodded quickly, cheeks faintly pink. “Yeah. Thanks, Marcus.” She gathered her laptop and headed upstairs without meeting my eyes fully. I stood there for a long moment after she left, studying Marcus. He looked perfectly normal, relaxed even. But the laptop on the coffee table was closed, and there was no notebook or pen in sight. Another small inconsistency.