The Billionaire Lesbian

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The Billionaire Lesbian Page 13

by Jessi Loveless


  She smiles briefly at my compliment that was not a compliment. I fight back a smile, this woman has no idea who I am or what I do.

  "Is it serious between you and my daughter?"

  I smile at her and try to decide on a course of action. With lying, I find it is safest to tell the version closest to the truth.

  "She's out of my league, Mrs. Isles." I say. "I'm sure she'll figure it out sooner rather than later."

  To my shock, some approval actually crepes into her face. It appears that she is supporting me.

  I self consciously grab a sandwich. Cara starts talking to Mrs. Isles about a facial filler.

  I reach for another sandwich and stuff it into my mouth before I have to talk some more. I forget all about being self conscious. If Mrs. Isles can talk about filling her face up with pharmaceuticals, I can fill mine with food. Besides, I cant handle these two on an empty stomach. They are being friendly, and it sets off all my internal alarms.

  Cara smiles and pats my hand. My back immediately stiffens. To her credit, she is more than a little drunk.

  I take another sandwich and stuff it into my mouth.

  Haley returns a few moments later and I take my seat next to her. The rest of dinner passes in a blur of cocktails, delicious food, and curious stares from Cara, and Mrs. Isles. I hold Haley's hand and ignore the battling feelings of impending doom that still rages on inside me. I eat the delicious food and pretend to care what Cara has to say.

  "So what did your mother mean by the 'designed to embarrass your family' thing?" I ask after dinner, while we are waiting for Harrison to come pick us up.

  "I have no idea." She says, and I don't believe her.

  The next day Sarah the attorney working on Hoyt's case calls me to give me an update, which is basically so she can inform me that Hoyt is being an uncooperative pain in the ass. She suggest that I should see a therapist to help me get through this, but I tell her I'm fine, since the idea of going and spilling my thoughts to someone sends horror and fear through me, its something I never want to go through again, but she tells me she has already set up an appointment with the department shrink, because Hoyt's lawyer has found some kind a loop hole in a sense, that could take down the whole case, but if I let someone else analyze my mind it would help with the case against him. She doesn't go into what Hoyt's lawyer has, but she assures me that if I do this everything will work out.

  I find myself waiting on this shrink during my lunch hour, when she finally appears I stand as slowly as possible and fix my jacket, trying to avoid this as long as possible. A part of me wishes I had told Haley about this, I know she'd have words of encouragement.

  I walk towards the lady standing at the door, she smiles as I grow closer. She's a bit different than what I expected. She's got fiery red hair, the kind you have to dye to make it look like that. She's dressed in a pant suit though and her hair is pulled up into a bun.

  I force my feet to follow her, and with every step, even the simplest thing, like breathing, becomes a challenge. She takes me to a small room that has a few chairs and a desk in it. My heart starts beating too fast, and my lungs feel as if they are being crushed.

  Everything comes flooding back. Everything that I've kept locked away, I can see everything happening as if I am watching a horror movie. I am on the outside, looking in at a terrified child as Hoyt does those vile things to me, it's burned into my memory. I'm not ready for this. My eyes sting, and the vile burn starts to form in my stomach it aches like a forming bruise.

  I sit in the closet chair I can find, not sure if I'm going to puke or bolt the hell out of here. My pulse speeds even more, erratic and without a distinct beat. I feel it pulsating underneath every wound and scar on my body.

  "So what brought you in here today, Jessica?" She asks after she sits behind her desk and sorts through a file on her desk.

  "You don't know that already?" My voice comes out piercing and uneven and makes me sound weak and pathetic.

  She smiles up at me, surprisingly not annoyed by my answer. This is going to be harder than I thought.

  She looks down at the folder again, reading a paper that's inside it. After looking it over briefly, she looks up at me.

  "So other than what this file says about you, what do I need to know about you?"

  I try to give a relaxed shrug. "Doesn't it say enough… Tell you what's wrong with me?

  She gives me a soft smile. "I'd like to hear what you think about you, not anyone else."

  I honestly don't know how to answer her, I'm not used to this kind of situation.

  "There's not much to know."

  She jots down some notes and then looks up at me.

  "Look, Jessica, I know sometimes it's hard to talk about how we feel, especially when we have so much hate and rage going on inside, but you might find it helpful to talk about it."

  She scribbles some more notes down, and then overlaps her hands and places them on top of the notebook.

  I fold my arms, and lean back in the seat with my legs kicked out in front of me.

  I know I'm being a pain in the ass and I don't know why. I feel bitter on the inside. I feel everything and maybe that's the problem. I clench my hands into fists and jab my fingernails into my palms.

  "Maybe I just don't want to be here." I mutter. "But it's fucking hard, you know?"

  She leans forward with interest.

  "What's hard?"

  I have no idea where I'm going with this.

  "Life." I shrug.

  "What's hard about your life, Jessica?"

  This woman doesn't get it, which might make it easier.

  "Feeling everything."

  She looks perplexed as she reclines in her chair. "Feeling emotions? Or the pain in life?"

  Fuck. Maybe she does get it. "Both I guess."

  "Do you ever let yourself feel what's inside you?"

  I consider what she said for a very long time.

  "I'm not sure… Maybe… Not always."

  "And why is that?" She asks.

  I think back to everything Hoyt did and how eventually I just drowned it all out, shut down, and died inside.

  "Because it's too much."

  It's a simple answer, but each word conveys more meaning than anything I've ever said. It's fucking strange to talk about it aloud. I don't like people to see how ugly and fucked up I am on the inside.

  She picks up a pen from her desk and her hand swiftly moves across the paper as she scribbles down some notes.

  "And what do you do when it becomes too much?"

  "Nothing, I guess."

  She chews on the end of the pen as she evaluates me.

  "Let's talk about the day you went to to kill Charles Hoyt, explain to me how you felt when you were making your decision. Emotions always play a large part in the things we do."

  "How do you know about that?" I ask.

  "Charles Hoyt told his lawyer, who went to the district attorney with the information."

  "And that's why I'm here now?"

  "Yes, now back to my original question."

  "I'm not a fan of emotions." I admit, slouching back in the chair.

  "I know that." She responds confidently. "And I'd like to get to the bottom of why."

  "No, you wouldn't." I tell her, dragging my nail up the inside of my palm to soothe the accelerating beat of my heart. "No one wants to hear about that. Trust me."

  She drops the pen on top of the notebook that's on her desk.

  "Why would you think that?"

  "Because it's true." I stab my nails deeper into my skin. "I'm twenty eight years old and everything that's done is done. There's no point in trying to save me. Who I am and what I do is always going to be."

  "I'm not trying to save you." she promises. "I'm trying to heal you."

  I run my finger along a thin scar on the palm of my hand that was put there when Hoyt cut me. "What? Heal these? I'm pretty fucking sure they're not going anywhere."

  She positions her hand ove
r her heart.

  "I want to heal what's in here."

  Usually I bail on these situations. Otherwise I'll end up feeling things I don't want to.

  "This is getting way to heart to heart for me." I say and grab onto the sides of the chair to push myself up.

  She holds up her hand, signaling for me to sit back down.

  "Okay, we don't have to talk about your feelings, but I want you to answer one thing for me."

  I stare blankly at her as I lower myself back into the chair.

  "That depends on what that one thing is."

  She taps the pen against the notebook as she deliberates.

  "Other than the obvious why did you want to kill him as you said what's done is done."

  "It's the same question with you."

  "Because it's an important question."

  "Why?" I'm getting annoyed, frustrated, and pissed off, and the anger snakes through my veins underneath my skin.

  "Why did you want to kill him?" It's like she's stuck on repeat and I want her to shut the hell up.

  I shake my head as my pulse speeds up with either anger or fear I don't know which.

  "I was tired of being afraid of him."

  She sits forward in the chair.

  "After all this time you're still afraid of him?"

  "Obviously." I shake my head, annoyed.

  She looks like she's struck gold and found an insight into what's locked away in my soul.

  "Can you answer just one more question for me?"

  I throw my hands in the air exasperatedly.

  "Do whatever the hell you want. You're already on a roll."

  "Do you think you'll ever stop being afraid of him?" She asks.

  "No." I mutter, I wasn't trying to be that honest but It comes out before I can stop it.

  She waits for me to divulge more information. What more does she want from me?

  She writes down a few notes, then clicks her pen and puts it on her desk before shutting her notebook.

  "I think we might have made some progress today." She checks her watch and then gets to her feet.

  She picks up a card from her desk.

  "I'd like to see you next week, if that's okay. Same time and day?"

  I want to tell her no, be a bitch so I don't have to come back and let her analyze my mind, but I find myself muttering okay, then I take the card she offers me before bolting the hell out of that office before she can say anything else.

  I find a bathroom, and slam my hand against the door as I fling it open. I run to the nearest stall and collapse to my knees, but nothing happens. Im shaking and sweating as I sit back and lean against the wall, letting my head fall back. Then I just sit there. Not feeling better.

  I pull out my phone a few minutes later and text Haley. I tell her that I'll be picking her up from work, and to be ready. She's the only one that calm the storm thats raging inside me right now.

  When she gets in my car she turns towards me.

  "What's wrong?" She asks.

  "It's nothing."

  "Did you have a bad day?"

  The worry in her voice is like a punch in the stomach. "No, Haley." I glance at her, and take her hand in mine.

  I drive us to the Commons. The trees are all in bloom, there are flowers everywhere, and its warm. Usually in Boston, its either winter or humid, except for a brief respite during the fall. But today it is perfect.

  "Would you like a pretzel?" I ask Haley when we come up on a cart.

  "Yes, please."

  "Would you like to ride the swan boats?" I ask a few minutes later.

  "Really?" Haley asks.

  I nod at her.

  "My whole life I've lived here, and I've never been on them."

  "I'd love to." Haley says with a smile.

  I go and buy tickets and come back, grinning at her. "I'm not usually a swan boat kind of person, but I've been watching these damn things for years and never had a reason to get on them."

  We get into the boat and go back and forth a few times. It is anticlimactic and perfect.

  "Did you grow up here?" I ask Haley after our swan boat ride.

  "I did." Haley answers. "Right over there on beacon hill." She jerks her thumb towards the other side of the park.

  "Did you ever come to the swan boats?"

  She shrugs. "Not that I remember. Maybe one of my nannies took me."

  We are quiet for a few minutes.

  "Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong?" She asks.

  I shift my weight. "I went to talk to a therapist today, I'm suppose to see her. It has something to do with the case."

  "Why didn't you tell me, I would have gone with you."

  "I don't know." I shrug. "I just thought I could do it alone."

  "Jessica." She sighs, shaking her head and taking my hand. "I can help you if you'll just let me, and you don't ever have to do anything alone anymore."

  "I know that Haley, I just don't want to be a burden."

  "Jessica, I love you you'll never be a burden to me."

  It's a fucking game. I hear my fathers voice again, but I drown it out.

  "I have to go back next week, would you like to come?"

  "Of course Jessica." She says and smiles.

  Chapter 24

  Haley's point of view.

  "Okay, Jessica, we need to talk." I say two weeks later on our way back to my house after work, I'm to anxious to postpone this conversation any further. I swivel in the front seat of Jessica's car, and push my sunglasses to my head so I can see her clearly.

  She glances sideways at me, her own eyes hidden behind her dark glasses. "Sounds intriguing."

  I take a deep breath. "Why haven't you touched me since the day we….since we had sex?"

  Her brow rises over her sunglasses, but she keeps her eyes on the road.

  "I just thought...Well you didn't say anything about it..I don't know how to proceed, I don't know if you'd want to do it again, or go back to before." She says, clearly flustered.

  "Of course I want to do it again, it was spectacular. Incredibly spectacular." My thighs tense just thinking about the sensual delight we experienced that day. A kernel of insecurity crepes in under my praise, causing me to wonder if she felt the same.

  "How did you think it was?" I ask, bracing myself.

  "Fine." Her smirk lets me know that she is teasing, but I lightly pinch her thigh anyway.

  "Carful! Im driving." She brings my hand to her mouth and kisses it before letting go.

  She takes off her sunglasses and tucks them into the compartment above her mirror, before studying me for a moment.

  Before she says anything her phone rings and she reaches over to answer connecting it to her hands free set.

  "Yeah." She says, looking at the road again.

  I look out the window trying to ignore her private business call.

  I can't help but overhear some of the conversation taking place, and I notice when the playful Jessica turns into business Jessica.

  "I'm not keen to sell to this particular buyer, but the other members of the board feel differently." Jessica says to whoever is on the other line of the phone.

  Jessica's furrows her brow and I think she won't say anything more because I'm in the car with her, but she goes on.

  "This buyer would run the place to the ground. The company would be torn apart. People would lose their jobs."

  I sit mesmerized listening to her. I see her passion for the people that work for her.

  When she gets off the phone she notices me staring and she shifts in her seat. I'm sure she would be disturbed to discover how much I discerned from such a brief phone call.

  The silence in the car is finally broken by Jessica.

  "There's been some outside interest in one of my smaller companies, many stand to gain a sizable profit for a sale. Actually, it's been quite stressful fighting to keep the company together when so many people are opposed."

  I see her relax and maybe enjoy telling me abou
t something that weighs heavily on her. Did she have anyone she shared these things with? It doesn't seem likely.

  The conversation I started in the car doesn't get brought back up as we discuss her situation through dinner, and then watch a movie.

  As we climb the stairs to my bedroom nervousness sets in. I follow her through the door into my bedroom. Honestly she should just move in, with how much shes here already. As I stand at the door worrying about the conversation we didn't get to finish, Jessica removes her suit jacket, obviously unaware of my anxiety. She turns back to me as she unbuttons her shirt and pauses, noticing I haven't moved since entering the room.

  Before she can ask, I blurt out what has me fretting.

  "Are we ever going to finish our conversation I started in the car?"

  A small smile crosses her lips.

  "Of course." She continues to pin me with her stare as she resumes her unbuttoning, moving slower than she did before.

  I take in a shallow breath as she takes a step toward me, her grin growing wider.

  She reaches out and pulls me to her and kisses me hard. Instant heat rushes through me at her touch. I kiss her back and wrap my arms around her neck. unnoticed me in the middle of this kiss Jessica moves us to the bed. My skirt slides up as I straddle her.

  Jessica reaches out and pulls my skirt up higher. I move my hips against her thighs, my body having a mind of its own.

  Her lips travel to my neck and I reach down to finish unbuttoning her shirt.

  She tangles her fingers through my hair, and pulls me in for another kis once I take her shirt off.

  "Jessica." I groan, my fingers tensing for the briefest moment on her chest where her heart is thudding.

  Her fingers slide beneath my shirt and graze my nipple, I instantly surrender in her arms, opening my mouth and allowing her to deepen the kiss as I move my hips against hers again. Now she's the one groaning, while tugging at my hair, nipping at my lips, biting my neck. She's being a little bit rougher with me than normal, but I don't care.

  Moving away slightly I grab the bottom of her undershirt and tug it over her head. My fingers instantly find the scars on her chest and she struggles to breathe as I trace the rough and jagged patterns of each one. My lips follow the path my fingers make, planting kisses on her skin.

 

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