Mary Wardwell Novels & Stories

Cynthia hesitated before asking another question. "Has he ever..." She looked embarrassed. "...brought someone here before?" Martha looked at her for a moment before smiling. "No." "What?" "You're the first." Cynthia blinked. "The first woman?" "The first companion." She stared at Martha in surprise. "I thought..." "What?" "I assumed men like him would..." Martha laughed. "Mr. Blackwood isn't interested in showing off." "But..." "He never brought anyone to this estate." The answer only deepened the mystery.

The roof, walls, doors, windows, and railings had all been repaired, and the inside had been given a simple renovation as well. Magdalena decided to buy her brother Vahe a new wheelchair before leaving and asked Sara to take her to the clinic in the city. But then she remembered that it was the same clinic where Alex Weber had worked, where she had spent time with him, where he had shown her affection. She thought seeing the clinic might bring all those emotions back, so she decided to go alone.

I responded, but my eyes were on the lady in front of me. The lady stretched out her hand. “Sorry to bother you, I’m Mara, one of Mr. Whitfield— I mean Marion Whitfield’s assistants.” I shook her hand. “Hmmm… you’re the one who shopped for the clothes for me for my vacation with him?” I tilted my head as I asked her. “No. That might be Clara, ma’am.” Mara held out a sleek white gift bag with a small Van Cleef & Arpels logo glimmering under the sunlight.

I gave her first aid and treated her. Tonight, I'll cook dinner," I stated. But you are not strong. I'm okay , Daisy, I'll prepare something easy for us. I then left before she could say anything. **************************** She was Maris Graves, one of the most highly respected women in New York. She had never imagined feeling threatened by someone as disgusting as Kate. She didn’t like Sienna, and she wasn’t fond of Kate either but right now, Kate earned her hatred far more than Sienna ever could.

“I need your best on this, Dave.” X “Can I offer you a cup of coffee, officer?” Mary Boyd looked like a tiny bird of a woman. She was wrapped tightly in a pink flannel bath robe and her short silver-gray hair was permed into tight curls. Her eyes were bloodshot and the remains of tears still clung to the deep wrinkles around her mouth. “Please, Mrs. Boyd. Thank you,” I said, hovering by the square antique table where Sarah Hayes, the chief’s wife, sat. “Mary,” Sarah said gently. “Let me get that.”

I called, snapping them back to reality. “Sorry Mrs. Reid, it's just that we have known you to be dead for four years,” Miss Marie Thatcher said. Miss Marie is the most famous make-up artist in all of Luxstorg and her studio offered the best services. “Miss Manor,” I corrected, wearing a comforting smile. “But we only serve Mr. Reid's wife,” Her hair stylist spoke up. Miss Marie was very busy and only attended to high dignitaries personally. I never used her services as Zeke's wife, because I never saw myself as one in his eyes.

It was also past noon and not yet closing hour, so some staff were present. I felt compelled to introduce Amara as my wife to the supervisor, but I had to gulp it down and introduce her as my assistant. "Good afternoon, Mr. Darlington," Mr. Wade said. "Well done, sir. How is the company going?" I asked Mr. Wade, as he was a middle-aged man, but not up to my father's age. "Going well, Mr. Briggs. Is this your wife?" Mr. Wade asked me. Amara smiled and replied, "No, sir. We are acquaintances only."

With a smile, he said, "You'll never be able to push me out of my wife's life. Harold's the child she raised—she did everything for him herself. Esther will never be able to compare." He knew Beverly had been very busy ever since she'd taken over Shield Link Technologies and hadn't had time to spend with Esther at all. "No matter what dirty tricks you pull, it won't matter," he added, looking at James pointedly. Right then, Wendell approached James and whispered, "Ms. Marwood is missing." Evan let out a cold, smug chuckle when he heard that.

That was one of the best of all the photos we'd taken at our second wedding last month. Yes, Jessica and I had gotten a second wedding. After everything that had happened, I thought it was a great way to start over and move on from the past. Of course because we both didn't like grand events, we'd only invited insiders. And by insiders I mean, Clara, Julia's family, Maddie and Freya, Schumann and his business rival turned girlfriend, Alex who played my second best man this time, the doctor in Hawaii, Dr. Stevens, and Nurse Emily. It was a beautiful ceremony, and it felt good to be saying those vows for real, knowing that I had every intention of following them. The night had ended with a fun

She never used the right shade and her brows never matched. Her almost six feet tall, sagged body hovered over Nora's small malnourished one. Martha donned a brand new white satin blouse tucked in a brand new costly looking variegated loin cloth. On her feet were a pair of thick-soled white sandals, all of which proved she had just returned from her Christian women's fellowship meeting. "To fetch water," Nora replied with conspicuous fear. Martha was a walking exemplar of 'mood swing'. Three-quarters of it had been dedicated to Nora and the remainder, to her very own husband--Nora's dad.