The Ladies Next Door

The Ladies Next Door

3.8 14
by Jacqui Singleton

View All Available Formats & Editions

Young Nathan Anzalone is excited when new neighbors move into the mansion next door. Awkward, sheltered and geeky, he holds out hope that the neighbors include a new friend with whom he can play. That was not to be, however. Diana Renoir and the formidable Cleo Damien have moved into the sleepy town of Silver River in hopes of finally being able to lead a "normal"…  See more details below


Young Nathan Anzalone is excited when new neighbors move into the mansion next door. Awkward, sheltered and geeky, he holds out hope that the neighbors include a new friend with whom he can play. That was not to be, however. Diana Renoir and the formidable Cleo Damien have moved into the sleepy town of Silver River in hopes of finally being able to lead a "normal" life. When the gawky kid from next door is caught spying on them as they play by their pool, Cleo takes Nathan under her wing and all three lives are changed forever. In the midst of a murder mystery, Diana and Cleo find that life in the small town is anything but normal. Under Cleo's tutelage, Nathan sheds his awkwardness, the ladies discover a mortal enemy in the boy's cruel and neglectful father, Diana becomes the target of a madman, and the ladies next door learn that a colorful cast of characters can sometimes be found where you least expect it.

Product Details

Publication date:
Sold by:
Barnes & Noble
Sales rank:
File size:
292 KB

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

Cleo Damien hung up the last of the freshly polished bridles and stood admiring her handy work. She couldn't quite figure out if she loved the horses more than the hardware or vice-versa. One thing was certain, there was nothing like the smell of new hay and familiar horses in a new stable. At least the mornings in small town Virginia were pleasing. She stretched luxuriantly and made a haphazard attempt to brush the dust out of her dark curls.

A horse whinnied from one of the stalls. With a grin, Cleo strolled down to greet the beautiful bay, which snuggled her hand. There had to be a treat in there somewhere.

"You're a pig!" Cleo teased as she retrieved a slice of apple from her shirt pocket. "And no more until you've had a workout." The horse didn't seem to mind as long as he got his apple.

She planted a light kiss in his nose and strolled out of the stables into the brilliant sunlight of the summer morning.

Cleo shielded her eyes as she looked across the property she had just acquired. Well, it was different. Definitely not the European countryside she was accustomed to, but it was beautiful. There was a simplicity that permeated the distant woods and the meadow. Dragonflies were already busy with morning chores. Somewhere a crow bellowed a brash invitation to whoever was up and about.

"Cleo?" The call came from behind her and she turned toward the house to see Diana walking toward her. Now there was a vision. Cleo smiled. Any place was bearable as long as there was Diana.

"Here you are!"

"I didn't realize I was missing," Cleo quipped as she laced an arm around Diana's waist, pulled her close and gentlykissed her lips.

"Don't be a smart-ass," Diana grinned as she let herself be greeted by her lover. Cleo loved the way she pronounced certain words with her French accent. Swear words were particularly ... stimulating.

"You have finished in the stables then?" Diana shielded her eyes just as Cleo had as she peered off into the distance.

"Pretty much. I need to go into town. Run a few errands. Pick up some supplies," Cleo answered.

"Yes. Fritz has a list for you a mile long. Things he needs for dinner."

"So we can't forget the list then."

Diana stepped away from her. Cleo was reluctant to let her go but content to watch her spin around like a top, arms outstretched, in the early morning breeze.

"Oh, Cleo! It is so beautiful here! And think of the painting I can do! So many new subjects for my eye to see!"

"I thought I was your best subject," Cleo pouted playfully.

"You do very nicely when there is only fruit to paint," Diana explained with a delighted laugh.

"You wound me to the quick, my love," Cleo smiled with a fist over her heart.

"I am teasing you. You will always be my favorite subject. But do you not feel the excitement of being in a new place? Almost a new life?"

"Was the old one so bad?"

Diana thought a minute before she answered.

"No. It was not bad at all. But there was just so much. So much work. So much people. So much everything. I do not wish to lose you here. And you have said it yourself that you can work from any place. Did you not say this?"

"Yes. I said this." Cleo knelt and plucked a dew-drenched buttercup and presented it to Diana. "If you think you will be happy here, Diana. Then here is where we will be."

"Yes! And there will be neighbors and dances and county fairs and long evening strolls down the lane--"

"Yes. Let us hope the neighbors won't be strolling down the lane to come lynch us," Cleo muttered darkly. She immediately regretted her comment when she saw the disappointment in Diana's eyes. 'We've just come to another place, love, not another planet. You desire an ideal that I'm afraid I can't give you, but it is yours to desire nonetheless."

"What do you mean, Cleo?"

"I mean I don't want you to be hurt when people are cruel. You know how it is. Remember Boston?"

"Boston is a terrible, horrible place."

"All places have that potential," Cleo took Diana's hand and kissed it. "Just let's take our time and let people get to know us. Perhaps the social circles in Silver River will not be as ... harrowing as those in Boston. Okay?"

Diana took a deep breath and nodded.

"Good. Now what's for breakfast? I'm famished!"

Hand-in-hand the two women headed for the back entrance of the mansion and into one of their housekeeper's most eloquent breakfasts.

* * * *

Nathan Everett Anzalone sighed impatiently and then flopped down on the top step of the massive front porch. His white cotton short-sleeved shirt was stiff with starch and rubbed his neck where his bowtie pushed against his throat. He irritably pulled at it with one finger and then clapped his hands together, clasping them before him while resting his elbows on his thighs as though he were about to expound on some great philosophical point.

In the next moment, he heard the smooth purr of an engine and the shiny black limousine slowly made its way around to the front of the estate. It crunched gravel in the circular driveway like a monster eating crackers.

Nathan stood up and brushed off the back of his shorts. His mother still made him wear a sweater vest, even though it was going to be another scorcher and he wasn't going to do anything but play and rough-house and get dirty. Nathan had to laugh at her reasoning. She knew he didn't play. She also knew that he didn't get dirty.

The immense front doors of the Anzalone estate opened and Harvard Davidson, the Anzalone butler, stepped out and stood immediately at attention to await the passage of Jonathan Anzalone. The master of Anzalone accepted his hat and briefcase from the butler without even a smile at the old black gentleman. None was expected. Harvard's history at Anzalone was as inevitable as Nathan's.

Ophelia Wellington Anzalone stood beside Harvard and waited for her perfunctory kiss from her departing husband. Nathan wondered at the ceremony. Every morning since he could remember, this was the procedure. Everyone in the household, with the exception of Iris, the cook, turned out to wish his father a good day at the office. Hamilton, the chauffeur, waited by the open door of the limousine. Nathan silently and quickly followed his father down the steps and slid into the cool leather of the car seats.

Factory air flowed quietly through the hidden vents to the back of the limousine. Nathan caught an eye and a wink from Hamilton in the rear view mirror.

Hamilton was a Davidson. Nathan wondered how the younger Davidson felt about seeing his father still butlering for a white family. He'd heard them fighting about it often, when they thought they were alone. Nathan had read in some of the books in the library about the Black's struggle for civil rights. But was that going on in other places? Was Hamilton content to drive and drive his life away? Nathan didn't think so. Anzalone was Harvard's life. Not Hamilton's.

Jonathan Anzalone studied his son in silence. The boy was his mother's child, without question. Ophelia's thick black hair and blue eyes. Handsome featured with a strong chin, which Jonathan attributed to his genes. The boy had the look of an aristocrat, but alas, none of the skills.

Nathan had no interests. At least, none that mattered to Jonathan. The boy didn't like sports. He didn't like girls. He was a bookworm. A weakling. How could such a powerful man have such a weak son? Jonathan sighed. He loved the boy. In his way. He was young. Maybe Nathan would come out of his shell. One of these days.

"So what are your plans for the day, Nathan?" Jonathan decided to try once again, to have a conversation with his son. Somehow, it seemed they never had anything to say to each other most of the time, so he didn't even bother trying.

"Nothing special," was Nathan's barely audible reply. He hated it when his father tried to act interested. His father always talked about Tommy Hutchinson. Tommy this. Tommy that. Although everything said about Tommy was true, that was beside the point. He was Jonathan Anzalone's son. Not Tommy.

"I understand Tommy Hutchinson's team has been invited to play against Mayeville next week," Jonathan announced.

Nathan wondered how his father knew about the game. This was the first Nathan himself had heard about it. Anyway, it wasn't Tommy's team. It was the Silver River Junior team.

"Yeah. I heard that, too," Nathan lied.

"Why don't you see if you can get on the team this time. It'll be fun for you. You might enjoy it."

Jonathan Anzalone's weak smile faded when he saw the dejected look on his son's face. Even the boy knew it was a foolish thing to say.

Without another word, Jonathan Anzalone turned his attention to the passing greenery. Oh well, he thought. He was just trying to make conversation.

Nathan caught Hamilton's eye in the rear-view mirror again. And the wink. This time, Nathan couldn't smile back.

* * * *

The Damien Estate was a whirlwind of moving people, boxes and furniture. Cleo listened to the madness from her study, her retreat, as Diana took on the role of commander and chief in the organization of their home. Not that Cleo minded. She was no good at such things and had no interest in it with the exception of the placement of a few of her own personal treasures. The women's tastes were similar and Cleo was grateful for that. Thankfully, Diana had seen to it that Cleo's study was the most complete room in the entire estate and she wasn't really sure if such efficiency was just that, or Diana's plan to keep Cleo out of the way.

Diana breezed in, winded and paused to watch Cleo at the study window. Cleo looked up and with a grin, slowly shook her head.

"Spying on the neighbors already?" Diana quipped. She held two delicate bud vases in her hands. Quite a contrast to the jeans and over sized denim shirt she was wearing. Loose strands of feathery blond hair fell across her face and she attempted to blow them out of her eyes as she watched Cleo.

"Not really. But there is something interesting going on over there." She nodded in the direction of the Anzalone place. "There is a little boy who's been sitting on that porch for the better part of forty-five minutes. He's just sitting there."

Diana laughed. "Maybe he is just watching you watch him."

"Ah! But he can't see me. I mean, shouldn't little boys be out and about on a summer morning like this? Actually, he's dressed like Alfalfa in a Little Rascals episode. Who dresses their child like that anymore? And his face is so sad."

"Why don't you go over and introduce yourself? I'm sure he would like that." Diana offered with another puff at a disorderly strand.

"No. Well maybe eventually." She smiled briefly at Diana and then turned her attention back to the window. "I mean, he should be running around with a baseball or something or going fishing."

"We didn't move into a Norman Rockwell painting, darling. Perhaps he is doing what he does in his world. I'm off to the study. Fritz is in giving the moving people a hard time about the kitchen. I need to go referee. Later!" Diana was off.

Cleo murmured something under her breath and started to get to work on organizing her files, but something drew her back to the boy who sat in solitude across the manicured lawns and shrubs.

"I wonder what your story is, young man?" she said to herself and finally tore herself away to attend to her work.

Read More

Customer Reviews

Average Review:

Write a Review

and post it to your social network


Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See all customer reviews >

Ladies Next Door 3.9 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 14 reviews.
Sage320 More than 1 year ago
Diana Renoir and Cleo Damien left Boston to try to find a place where they can live a "normal" life. Silver River seems to be what they're looking for though at first they're treated as the town oddities. Southern civility gradually wins out however and by force of personality and general good will, Cleo and Diana begin to win over the citizens of the town. Everyone that is but their neighbor Jonathan Anzalone, the head of the bank. Anzalone is a powerful man who is threatened by a woman who has more power, Cleo Damien. He is determined to find out the source of her wealth and to steal Diana from her since he's sure that all Diana needs to fulfill her life is the "right man." As Jonathan is thwarted at every turn, Cleo becomes a bigger enemy as she takes on the job of mentor to his son Nathan. Nothing that Nathan does ever pleases his father, especially when he is always being beaten up by the town bullies. In Cleo, Nathan finds a friend who accepts him as he is, but teaches him valuable lessons about how to be his "own man" and a better man than his father. As Diana and Cleo begin to transform the lives of the citizens of Silver River, a killer is operating in their midst. Someone is murdering women and there is a growing fear that Diana may be the next target. The strands of the story come together as Cleo prepares to deal with Jonathan Anzalone and protect Diana at all costs. The outcome will depend on whether or not young Nathan can emerge as the man his father has never seen. Singleton creates an interesting cast of characters in this book. Cleo Damien is somewhat reminiscent of the swashbuckling heroes in old movies. Although she claims not to like children, she recognizes a kindred spirit in Nathan and becomes more of a role model than his father could ever be. The Finimore sisters, Mavis and Avis, provide the lighter touch as a couple of older sisters who are the town's finest cooks and totally happy depending on each other, until Diana befriends them and opens up a new future for one of them that threatens to split the sisters forever. Ophelia Anzalone, Nathan's abused mother, is as sad as her namesake until she begins to see the possibility of a new life also. Jonathan Anzalone's slow decline into demented evil is one of the best portrayals in the book as he devolves from a man entranced by his own power to one whose world is spinning out of control as he loses touch with reality. Singleton weaves these people and the different threads of the story into a book that is part mystery, part character study and all entertaining reading. In Silver River and its people, she has created a story that begs for a sequel so that the reader can follow up on what happens to this unique group of individuals.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago