Wife's Bitter Revenge Against Neglectful CEO Husband-Chapter 65: Bea Meets Anya

Bea

Bea adjusted her wig and double-checked her makeup. Yup. She had officially become her mother. The simple black dress with the pleated skirt that hung to her ankles and the functional flat heels and thrift store handbag finished her costume.

Never one to skimp on the details, Bea spritzed rose water perfume on her wrists and neck. She was tempted to carry a Holy Bible but then thought better of it. The Bible might be overkill.

By the time Father DiMarco texted Anya’s arrival, Bea was giddy with glee. This was going to be so much fun.

She tamped down her excitement and practiced one last scowl in the mirror. Frowning didn’t come naturally to her.

Father DiMarco was entertaining Anya in his office when Bea arrived with a tray of coffee and cookies. Father DiMarco made introductions while Bea served the coffee.

And now it began.

Anya said, "It’s so nice of you to invite me over. I understand you are remodeling this lovely old church and need interior design assistance.

Bea said, "I personally think white paint, beautifully polished hardwood, a crucifix here and a Virgin Mary statue there, and we are in business to open the doors. You know, a traditional look. Simple, cost-effective, and suitable for a low-income community. But the father wants to decorate for a more affluent crowd."

Father DiMarco said, "A rumor is going around that a major developer is looking to refurbish the neighborhood. You know, a little gentrification to pull in young, wealthy couples.

"If that is the case, a showcase religious center is more apt to appeal to the young people than stoic white walls. And once the aesthetic beauty pulls them in, I can use my natural charm to keep them coming back."

Anya said, "Mhm, mhm, sounds logical. but Father DiMarco, turning the sanctuary into a work of art comes at a cost. What sort of budget do you have in mind?"

"Oh, money is no object. I have a wealthy benefactor. In fact, he’s the one who shared the rumor with me." Father DiMarco made air quotes for the word rumor and flashed Anya his most trusting smile.

"Oh, really? And when do you anticipate the remodeling to be completed?"

Bea said, "We’re still looking for an artist and glazier to design and install stained glass windows."

"Oh, I have people for that. Why don’t you let me add it to my proposal?"

Anya took a sip of her coffee and made a sour face. "Oh my, what coffee blend do you use?"

Bea covered a smile. "It’s my special blend. Call it a hobby. What do you think?"

"Why, it’s just divine. Unique, eye-opening. The perfect vehicle for a flavoring syrup and extra sugar."

Anya took another sip and smiled.

"My thoughts exactly. Now tell me, when can you have a proposal put together?"

"Well, let me see. I’m designing a new storefront for a formal gown shop. Then I have a private client who wants to redecorate her mansion before her daughter’s quinceañera. Oh, and I planned an event for this weekend to earn money for one of my favorite charities."

"It sounds like you might not have time for a project like ours. Father DiMarco, did you say you had two other designers lined up to give us an estimate?"

"I do, but I heard so many good things about Mrs. Heavenly. I wanted to at least meet with her. But if she’s too busy, my benefactor said he’d be glad to roll our project in with the new shopping center and the apartment complex. It’s such a big project that adding one little church won’t make a difference. He might be able to write off the entire remodel as a charitable donation."

Bea said, "Maybe we should table this discussion then and let him handle it."

Anya said, "Oh, don’t do that. I’m sure I have the time to meet your needs. In fact, if you share your benefactor’s information, I can negotiate to do all three projects for a reasonable price. And, of course, for your cooperation, I’d be willing to donate my manhours for the church design free of charge."

Bea said, "Really? You would do that for us?"

"Of course! I love contributing to good causes. So, who do I talk to about the shopping center and apartment complex."

Father DiMarco said, "Perhaps I should clear it with him first. I mean, the whole project is pretty hush-hush, you know."

Anya said, "Oh, I’m sure he won’t mind. If the project is that big, I’m sure a lot of people already know about it."

Suddenly, Anya’s stomach gurgled loudly. The woman clutched at her stomach, "Oh my, I am so sorry. I must have forgotten breakfast this morning."

Bea hid a smile behind her upturned coffee cup. Anya’s stomach responded to the laxative that Bea had coated the inside of Anya’s cup right on time.

Yes, Bea was aware doping Anya with laxatives was juvenile, but it still felt awfully satisfying to watch concern etch Anya’s features as a silent fart waft through the air.

Bea said, "Are you alright, dear?"

Anya stammered. "I’m not sure. Pardon me, but could I use your facilities?"

Father DiMarco said, "Of course, let me show you the way."

Anya’s stomach continued to play an uncomfortable tune as Anya paled. "Please, and hurry."

Anya darted after Father DiMarco while Bea eyed the designer bag Anya left behind. Limited edition crocodile skin. Bea said a silent prayer for the croc that gave up its life to complete Anya’s outfit.

As soon as the door swung closed behind the priest and the designer, Bea grabbed up the bag and dug for Anya’s phone. The phone was locked, but who cared? Teela and Stiff weren’t the only ones who knew how to get around basic security features.

She took the phone over to Father DiMarco’s desk and opened the laptop she’d left there just for this purpose. Her hands shook as she plugged the phone into the USB cable and pulled up the app she’d coded to make this little stunt go faster.

In sixty seconds, she had the phone unlocked and uploaded a GPS tracking and a phone mirroring app on Anya’s phone. Now, Bea had her eyes on Anya any time she wanted.

As a bonus, the phone now acted as an audio bug as well. Wherever Anya took her phone, Bea could listen in on the conversations in the room. She didn’t think she would need this handy dandy feature, but it might come in handy for Teela and Stiff. If not, no harm, no foul. No one would find the feature if they weren’t looking for it.

Bea froze when the door opened. "Busted already," she muttered.

But then Father DiMarco walked in and closed the door behind him. "You doing okay?"

"Done." Bea put the phone back in the purse where she found it.

"Are you sure the meds you put in Anya’s coffee won’t hurt her?" She was in a lot of discomfort by the time she darted into the bathroom."

"I’m sure, but she might wish she was dead for the next twenty-four hours."

"Oh dear, that’s a long time."

"She deserves worse. How are you doing?"

"I’m okay. So far, I’ve not had to lie. Michael is my benefactor. While we started the rumor about gentrification, I did hear it. And I’m very charming if I say so myself."

The father’s smile was infectious.

"Agreed!"

Bea sat back with her coffee and a chocolate chip cookie, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as a gingersnap would have been. She loved gingersnaps and coffee.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized she paired cookies with drinks a lot. Chocolate milk required Oreos. Iced tea required lemon cookies. Vodka was meant to pair with raspberry bars. Lemonade went with, hmm. Bea didn’t know. Maybe this weekend she would make it her mission to find out.

"Should I go check on her?" Father DiMarco asked after a while.

"I can. If there’s a problem, she might be more comfortable around a woman than a man."

But Anya opened the study door at that moment. She was pale before. Now, she looked like death warmed over. Her posture was bent, and it looked like she had lost some of her meticulously applied makeup to a wet towel in the bathroom.

"Oh dear," Bea said. "Are you okay?"

"No, not really. Can we pick this up another day?"

"Of course we can." Bea handed Anya her purse. "Are you okay to drive home? I could take you."

"Oh, no. That’s okay. I brought a driver today."

Anya started backing out of the office, holding her hand to her stomach.

The stench from the woman was overwhelming, and for the briefest of moments, Bea almost felt sorry for her. Then she remembered Teela laying in that hospital bed after she was forced to take abortion meds even though she wasn’t pregnant. The moment of empathy for Anya passed.