Wendy Raquel Robinson 90s Novels & Stories

But to Robin, no matter what it was, nothing could be as serious as the queen's escape. The butler cautiously shut the door and then lowered his voice, "Master, Miss Wendy has gone missing! And Candace is gone too!" Robin frowned. "What?" He had arranged a place for Wendy to stay to avoid drawing attention. The butler only went there once a month to deliver food and money. Everything had been fine the past few visits, so how could she have suddenly… A thought suddenly occurred to Robin. It had to be Jane. Two people vanishing at once—it had to be her doing.

“Thank you.” Wendy grunts, tearing off a bite of her crust. Her dark wavy hair hangs over her shoulders in two loose bunches, and her sketchpad rests on the counter by her hip. Wendy understands my obsession with ballet, because she’s the same way with drawing—she needs it like she needs air to breathe. “He’s in his late thirties,” I tell her, answering her question from earlier. “So, older than us. But not old old.” “Old enough to be sexy.” Wendy waggles her eyebrows. “Old enough to know what he’s doing.”

She owns the island and has a major shares in Griffin Groups. My first impression of Wendy was that of Oprah Winfrey. You know, powerful, strong, the alpha-female kind of woman. But my impression was wrong because that wasn't what Wendy was like in reality. She was in her early eighties, wore horn rimmed spectacles and has short, curly and dense hair with black pearl color. She was a lover of jewelries. I can see that for myself from her jade necklaces and ruby rings. But that wasn't what made me stare.

Their leader, Wendy Savage, was already screaming herself hoarse. “That’s my big brother!” Wendy yelled, jumping so hard her blue ponytail whipped wildly behind her. “That’s my brother! Did you see that strike?!” The girls around her laughed and screamed louder, feeding off her excitement. Wendy was impossible to miss. Nineteen years old, electric blue hair styled into a high ponytail, glitter dusted across her cheeks. She was beautiful in a bold, fearless way. She clutched her pom-poms to her chest, eyes shining.

"Why else would I have hung around him since we were kids?" She tilted her head toward Rosalyn. "But not the way you're thinking." Was that believable? "Let me put it this way. Back when I was a confused teenager, I did think about making a move on him. But you know what I realized?" Wendy leaned against the car. At that moment, she looked a little like Eric himself. Rosalyn was nothing like her. She stood straight and proper wherever she went and only relaxed when she was home or completely alone.

“Come on now, Robinson, you said you wanted to give her the good news.” Rihanna blinked at the nickname. She’d never heard The Viper called such a friendly name before. He cleared his throat and without smiling, informed her, “Wendy Tan used to babysit me. I gave you the case to see what you would do with it, and if you helped her, I promised myself we would make you junior partner.” Mr. Leonard guffawed and smacked Robinson on the back. “I bet you wish you hadn’t told us that before she won the case!”

It's quiet in here, almost too quiet. "What's up, Robbie?" I wave at the night clerk. She used to be a dancer at Wet Wanda's but found her way out of the business. I stalk to the cooler, grabbing an energy drink. When I look back at her, I realize she didn't wave, which she always does. She didn't ask about Mandy, didn't inquire about how Walker's feeling.

Wanda sprang backwards warily in response, keeping her distance warily while snapping, "What are you doing?! Get up!" Nonetheless, Robin refused—there was no way she would give up on her martyr act! As such, she stayed on her knees and started slapping herself while making herself appear to suffer as much as possible. "I'm sorry, Wanda! Can you please forgive me? You were begging me to use your design! You can't abandon me now that something's happened!" Robin was crying as she scrambled to tug at Wanda's skirt, remaining on her knees. She kept pleading and appeared horrified… or at least, for the benefit of certain cameras leveled at them.

If confirmed, it could deter businessmen from aligning with Bob. The Quirks' future in Hevensford would be an uphill battle. Although Wendy had no stake in those future events, she found joy in Bob's misery. She wanted to share that happiness and decided to call Dan for a drink. After the call, Wendy went to buy some groceries and cooked up a storm, showcasing her culinary skills. Despite being an affluent lady, she enjoyed occasionally cooking for Bob, which was a gesture of her love. Wendy was preparing the ingredients when a knock came from the door.

Wendy turned slightly, her bright eyes landing on his noble and handsome face. "Mr. Hawk, let me properly introduce you to Wendy Crone, your junior." Stanley looked at Wendy. She wore a blue tag around her neck, with her photo affixed to it. At sixteen, Wendy had graduated from Harfield in her Master's robes and cap—she was young, pure, and out of this world. Stanley's gaze shifted from the blue tag to Wendy's face. Now, they stood in the middle of the brilliant lights, surrounded by people coming and going.