The Ex Files Read online

  Praise for Victoria Christopher Murray

  “The Ex Files is a moving-on song in four-part harmony.”

  —Donna Grant and Virginia DeBerry, authors of

  Tryin’ to Sleep in the Bed You Made

  “Once again, Victoria Christopher Murray has crafted a compelling, intriguing, and page-turning story that stays with you long after you’ve finished the book. This wonderful tale of four different women from vastly different backgrounds shows how we can all be bound by the common thread of faith.”

  —ReShonda Tate Billingsley, bestselling author of

  Everybody Say Amen and I Know I’ve Been Changed

  “My girl, Victoria Christopher Murray has done it again! I love her work and this book will bless you, so read it.”

  —Michele Andrea Bowen, author of Church Folk, Second

  Sunday, and Holy Ghost Corner

  “Murray has always impressed me with her ability to live the life of her characters and make them come alive with each turning page.”

  —The Indianapolis Recorder

  Praise for A Sin and a Shame

  “As with Murray’s previous novels, A Sin and a Shame is intriguing and well written. If you loved and hated Jasmine in Temptation, you’ll love and hate her again.”

  —The Indianapolis Recorder

  “It raises a lot of issues, particularly as the story draws to a close, that are likely to make for some heated debates. As a result, A Sin and a Shame is likely to be a much-talked-about book.”

  —Rawsistaz.com

  “Riveting, emotionally charged, and spiritually deep…What is admirable is the author’s ability to hold the reader in suspense until the very last paragraph of the novel! A Sin and a Shame is a must-read…. Truly a story to be enjoyed and pondered upon!”

  —RomanceInColor.com

  “A Sin and a Shame is Victoria Christopher Murray at her best…. A page-turner that I couldn’t put down as I was too eager to see what scandalous thing Jasmine would do next. And to watch Jasmine’s spiritual growth was a testament to Victoria’s talents. An engrossing tale of how God’s grace covers us all. I absolutely loved this book!”

  —ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Essence bestselling author

  of I Know I’ve Been Changed

  Praise for Grown Folks Business

  “Grown Folks Business is a wonderful testament of love, faith, and forgiveness and readers will find themselves still thinking about the characters long after they’ve turned the last page.”

  —Kimberla Lawson Roby, author of the New York Times

  bestseller The Best-Kept Secret

  “Christopher Murray is known across genres for her ability to help the reader connect with the characters, offer compassion, and open one’s eyes to all facets of a situation. Because of its subject matter, it should be read by everyone, not just by those merely looking for entertainment, as it offers so much more.”

  —Rawsistaz.com

  “Grown Folks Business is a worthy addition to this talented author’s body of work. Fans of Ms. Murray will enjoy this inspiring story of forgiveness, compassion, understanding, and love.”

  —RomanceInColor.com

  “You know a book is good when you hate to see it come to an end. Grown Folks Business is a well-written novel about a faith-filled woman’s struggles to rebuild her shattered life—a novel that readers should widely embrace.”

  —Cydney Rax, Book-Remarks.com

  “Victoria Christopher Murray provides a richly detailed backdrop to a story of faith, hope, and love in the face of betrayal sure to delight and challenge readers.”

  —Jacquelin Thomas, author of Soul Journey

  and Saved in the City

  “Victoria Christopher Murray has written an explosive story about picking up the pieces when a longtime love goes really, really wrong. Grown Folks Business rattles the relationship cage and gets to the heart of what’s serious and painfully real.”

  —Lolita Files, author of Tastes Like Chicken

  “A moving and realistic portrayal of a woman’s journey from betrayal to triumph while never losing sight of God’s grace and mercy.”

  —Francis Ray, author of Like the First Time, I Know Who

  Holds Tomorrow, and Trouble Doesn’t Last Always

  “Hard-hitting. Thought provoking. Attention grabbing. Hands down, Ms. Murray’s finest writing.”

  —Patricia Haley, author of No Regrets and Still Waters

  ALSO BY VICTORIA CHRISTOPHER MURRAY

  A Sin and a Shame

  Grown Folks Business

  Truth Be Told

  Temptation

  Joy

  Blessed Assurance (contributor)

  TOUCHSTONE

  Rockefeller Center

  1230 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10020

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2007 by Victoria Christopher Murray

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  TOUCHSTONE and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-4562-0

  ISBN-10: 1-4165-4562-X

  Visit us on the World Wide Web:

  http://www.SimonSays.com

  To my mother, Jacqueline Christopher.

  I always knew your heart was solid—made of gold—

  but these last few years have shown me that your spirit is the

  same. I know you miss Daddy most of all, but you have

  stood with a strength that makes me proud to be your

  daughter. I will love you always.

  Acknowledgments

  My editor has been waiting for my acknowledgments for almost two months. But no matter how many e-mails she sends me, I resist this process. I can write a book faster than I can do these pages, which are designed to thank those who have helped me. How can I (in just a few lines) thank everyone? And how can I (at my age) remember everyone? There is always someone who is left out, someone who feels they should have been included. This is just not a pretty or pleasant process for me. But since this book is going to press soon, I have to do this. So, as snow is falling outside my window (no, I’m not in L.A.), this is what is in my heart right now….

  To my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He loved me enough to die for me, so I dedicate my life to live for Him. I write these books to share the love and hope and faith I have. I want the world to have the gift of knowing Him.

  To my family who is always there: my mother, Jacqueline; my sisters, Michele, LuCia, and Cecile; and my mother-in-law, Delores. I can’t imagine another author who has the strength of the support system that I have in my family: my aunt, Joan Yearwood; my nieces, Ta’shara Murray Riedel and Eutopia Johnson; my cousins, John Short, Jerilyn Taylor, Donna Simpson, Veronica Clark-Tasker, Theresa Arrington, and Christina Grant. I thank all of you for spreading the word the way you do and loving me always.

  I am also blessed with friends who go beyond having my back: S. James Guitard (always there), Lolita Files (bestest), Kimberla Lawson Roby (no one believes in me more!), Veronica Spencer Austin (no one’s been with me longer), Tracy Downs (much more than my friend, my spiritual sister), Parry Brown Abraham (we’re not getting older, just better) Marissa Pointer (you’ll always be my MM), Courtney Parker (Mini-me!). I hope I provide all of you with just half of what you each give to me.

  And then there are the folks who walk this walk with me and lift me
up with not only the words in their books, but with their personal words to me every time we talk: E. Lynn Harris, Eric Jerome Dickey, Jacqueline Thomas, Michele Bowen, Jihad, ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Victor McGlothin, Mary B. Morrison, Travis Hunter, Stephanie Perry Moore, Kendra Norman-Bellamy, Tia McCollors, Stacy Hawkins Adams, and Sherri Lewis.

  Finally, but most important, the team who has worked to shape my career: Elaine Koster, my agent. There is just no one better. Cherise Davis, you have moved onto bigger things but I will never forget all you’ve done. Thank you for your never-ending belief in me. Shida Carr, I am so grateful that Touchstone assigned you to me. We’ve grown together and you are by far the best publicist in the business. I know this and everywhere I sign, people rave about you! Meghan Stevenson, I am so blessed to have you on my team. Your enthusiasm for my books always makes me want to do even better! And to the rest of the team at Touchstone/Fireside, I hope you can tell how much I love working with all of you.

  To the book stores that hand-sell my novels, and to the readers who pass the word—your names are too numerous to list—please know that there are not enough words to express my gratitude.

  And to Monique—even at seventeen, you still make my heart sing! I love you!

  So now if you’ve read these acknowledgments and your name is not here, it’s not because I don’t love you. At the beginning, I told you that there is always someone not listed—not because of what’s in my heart, but because of all the stuff that takes up space in my head!

  Okay, that’s it. Now, turn the page and get to the real drama….

  The Ex Files

  Chapter One

  SHERIDAN HART

  “I think Daddy has a new lover.”

  Sheridan stopped moving; the coffeepot she held frozen in midair.

  “Mom!”

  Only then did Sheridan feel the heat of the coffee spilling over, onto her hand. “Ouch.” She snatched her hand away and grabbed a paper towel. But as she patted the spillage spreading over the counter, her thoughts were on her daughter. “What did you say?”

  Tori shrugged. “I think Daddy has a new lover. Don’t worry, Mom,” she admonished. “He hasn’t introduced me to him. It’s just that Dad’s been a bit different. Kinda happy.”

  The world had certainly changed. Here she was talking to her thirteen-year-old daughter about her father’s male lovers. It had been more than three years since Quentin had declared his love for a man. Still, Sheridan couldn’t find a way to call that part of her life normal.

  Sheridan could feel her daughter’s eyes, waiting for her reaction. The silence was interrupted by a car horn.

  “They’re here.” Tori jumped up from the dining table and Sheridan exhaled. This talk had ended—at least for the next forty-eight hours.

  “Okay, sweetheart,” Sheridan said, as she handed her daughter the suitcase that waited by the front door. “Call when you get to Palm Springs.”

  “Okay.”

  “And don’t forget to get your reading done since you’re missing school today.”

  “Okay,” Tori agreed, although Sheridan doubted that she would look at any textbook.

  “Have a good time.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek, then opened the door and waved at the three Nelsons—her daughter’s best friend, Lara, and Lara’s parents.

  Leaning against the door frame as Joseph Nelson tossed Tori’s suitcase into the trunk, she already wished the weekend was over. She wasn’t looking forward to these days alone. That thought and the chill of the lionlike March morning made her shiver.

  “’Bye, Mom,” Tori yelled before she stepped into the car. “Tell Brock I said hello.” Then she added, “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Tori slammed the car’s door on her words, leaving Sheridan standing with her mouth open, long after the Jaguar pulled away.

  Tori was growing up—too much, too fast. Quentin’s stepping out had changed them all.

  In the kitchen, Sheridan settled at the table with her coffee. Three days alone, too much time to ponder. Too many hours to think about all she’d lost. In the last three years, she’d lost all the men she’d loved: her husband, Quentin, to a man. Her son, Christopher, to college. And then, worst of all, just three months before, her father, Cameron, to God.

  Thoughts of her father were the ones that made her heart swell. And then came the ache. And then, the tears. Emotions that were overwhelming, never ending.

  The ringing phone paused her tears and she gripped the receiver, grateful for the reprieve from her growing sorrow.

  “Hey, babe.”

  His voice alone made her smile, although it didn’t stop her pain. Why had Brock chosen this weekend to be away too?

  She said, “I’m glad to hear from you.”

  “What were you doing?”

  Sheridan wiped her eyes. “Nothing.”

  “I was hoping you were thinking about me.”

  “Tori just left, so I was sitting here….” She stopped.

  “It’s going to be tough without her, huh?”

  She nodded. “Tough without her, tough without you. With Mom in San Francisco…I wish…”

  “What do you wish?”

  “I wish you were here.” She sighed when the bell rang. “Hold a sec.”

  She scurried to the front door, eager to shoo away the intruder so that she could get back to Brock. She swung the door open and for the second time in minutes, she stood standing, unable to speak.

  Brock grinned, flipped his cell phone closed, then lifted her into his arms. “I’d forgotten that Tori was going away until you mentioned it last night.”

  “But what about D.C.? What about your mom?” she asked.

  “I told her I’d be there on Monday.” He leaned back. “I couldn’t leave you alone.”

  He was the man who made her heart sing, but now, she cried and he held her close.

  “That’s not the reaction I expected. Maybe I should go.” He turned, but she grabbed his hand before he could take a step.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” With her foot, she slammed the door shut.

  He brushed his lips against hers, but when he tried to pull back, she wouldn’t let go. Minutes later, when they broke apart, his eyes searched hers. “Sheridan…”

  “Yes.” She kissed his neck and when he moaned, she pressed into him even more.

  “No,” he said.

  “Please,” she said.

  Pushing him against the wall, she gave herself pleasure with the feel of him. “I want you,” the words slipped through her lips before they again joined together.

  He carried her up the stairs and she drowned herself in his shoulder-long locks, sinking into his scent. Within minutes, they were one, their melodic moans filling the room.

  Sheridan was an emotional knot—lust and loss—tied together. Brock was the release that freed her from her pain. His arms, his lips, his hands—her comfort. But an hour later when he rolled over, still panting, her pain rushed back. Sheridan turned away, folding her knees into her chest.

  She could feel it before she heard it—his sigh.

  “Please don’t do this, Sheridan.”

  She could hear all that he felt. He asked, “Why do you do this?”

  She turned over and rested her head against his chest. “I needed you.”

  “And I wanted you.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I hate this. I hate the guilt that wraps itself around you every time.”

  “Because we shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “But you…”

  “I know.” She squirmed inside his embrace. “I just needed…” She felt the tears and wondered for how many more days, weeks, months would she cry?

  She sobbed, a blend of grief and guilt. He tightened his arms, and she wept more.

  Time passed; her tears stopped. Brock leaned onto his side and, with his lips, wiped away the teary residue on her cheeks. “We don’t have to go through this anymore.”

  Now she sighed.

  He continued,
“It doesn’t make sense that we’re not married.”

  “I can’t think about that right now.”

  “We wouldn’t have these guilt fests if we were married.”

  She bounced up in the bed. “You want to marry me so we can have guilt-free sex?”

  He held up his hands. “You know it’s not like that.”

  “I don’t want to get married just for sex.” She glared at him.

  He matched her stare before he leaped from the bed. Without a word, he snatched his pants. As he dressed, her heart cried for him. But her lips wouldn’t move.

  He slipped into his jacket and marched to the door. Only then did he look at her. “All I want is to love you always. But we can’t stay this way, Sheridan.” He stood, waiting for words from her.

  But she had nothing to give him.

  With a shake of his head, he disappeared into the hall.

  The front door had already closed before her first tear came. “What is wrong with me?”

  She’d wanted Brock to stay. Wanted to hold him again and tell him every word he needed to hear. But it was as if sorrow didn’t allow her to understand anymore. She felt like a speeding bullet aimed toward a place she didn’t want to go. But if she didn’t stop herself, she was sure that soon, Brock would be added to her list of loss too.

  She reached for the telephone, punched in the first three numbers to his cell. But then she returned the phone to the cradle. She lay down. And thought about her father. And cried more. And wished that Brock had kept his promise and not left her alone.

  Chapter Two

  KENDALL STEWART

  The words slashed her heart.

  Divorce Decree.

  The knock on the door pulled Kendall’s eyes away.

  “Hey.”

  Her hands covered the packet resting on her lap. “What are you doing here, Anthony?”

  He strutted in as if he hadn’t heard the venom in her voice.

  “I had to pick up a proposal from one of the designers. And…I wanted to check on you.” He slid into the chair like he had an invitation.