“Here might be a good place to do it. We don’t have anything like that.”
“Okay, I’ll keep in touch.”
Later that night, Nate and Jessica were snuggling on the couch in Jessica’s condo, located just minutes away from Nate’s loft in the Atlantic Station neighborhood. In a rare move, Jessica had tried her hand at cooking and had made a fairly decent pot of chili. Now they sipped spiced apple cider while watching Monday Night Football.
Nate set his cup on the coffee-table coaster and wrapped his arms more firmly around her. “I know you moved here from Oakland. Is that where you were born?” A long pause. No answer. “Jess, did you hear me?”
“Hmm?”
“Where were you born?”
“New Orleans, but they lost my records in Hurricane Katrina.”
“I would have never guessed you were from the South.”
“We left when I was a baby—uh, I’m told not too long after I was born.”
“Was this with your birth mom, before you were adopted?”
Jessica raised her head from Nathan’s shoulder. “Why all the questions?”
“Just getting to know you better, that’s all. Today I was thinking about how I enjoyed introducing you to my family and realized that aside from your spending time in foster care before being adopted, I don’t know much about your background.”
I never should have told him I was adopted. She made a mental note to correct that lie. She placed her head back on Nate’s shoulder and her arm went around his waist. “Those are sad and lonely memories. I don’t like to talk about it.”
“I can understand that. We all like to put unhappy events behind us. But sharing some of that experience will help me feel more connected, like I know you inside and out, like nobody else does, like the way I want you to know me.”
“I’m a private person. You already know more than most.”
“If I were plucked away from my birth mother I’d forever wonder about her, and whether or not I had siblings.Who my father was . . . all of that. I don’t even know your middle name.”
“Don’t have one.”
Her shoulders rose and fell on the waves of a silent sigh. They watched as Russell Wilson threw a perfect spiral to Marshawn Lynch for a touchdown; silently took in the Seahawks cheering on the sidelines before the extra point was kicked and the network went to commercial.
“From what I was told,” she finally began, “my parents died tragically when I was five years old. How exactly was never made clear. My memories of them are vague, perhaps even imagined. I was never formally adopted out of the foster care system, but these people were the only family I really knew. I have a sister out there, somewhere . . . but I haven’t seen her in . . . a while. After I got married my life revolved around my husband, totally and completely. I was only eighteen then and had been with him since just before turning seventeen. He was twenty-eight when we met, thirty when we married—attractive, successful—my knight in shining armor. Or so I thought. It turns out he was my warden, our palatial home my prison.”
“Was he abusive?”
The answer was soft, almost whispered. “Yes.”
Nate’s jaw clenched. “What’s his name?”
“Why?”
“Because I would love to give him a taste of his own medicine, so he knows how it feels.”
“He’ll get his eventually. I’m just glad I got away. Now”—she turned and placed a soft kiss on his lips—“can we leave the past and come back to the present? Here . . .” She kissed him again, on the chest this time as she repositioned herself. “And now?” She unbuckled his pants and made quick work of the zipper, pulling out his flaccid member and licking it to life.
“Baby, I’m trying to watch the game.” Perhaps, but nonetheless he helped pull down his boxers for better access.
Jessica chuckled, bent her head toward his groin and made a play of her own.
CHAPTER 7
A week later Nate sat in his office, his hands poised over the laptop’s keyboard as he viewed the screen. For a search, there were several website choices: BeenVerified, PeopleSmart, Instant Checkmate, PeopleFinders, iDTrue, IdentityPI, and more. After another minute of contemplation he pulled his hands from the keyboard, leaned against his black leather office chair and gazed out the window. The forecast had called for the chance of a snowstorm, but right now the sun was bright and the ground was dry. The only storm was in his mind, brought on by the conversation with his sister when she called to discuss the holidays.
“I want to talk about our Christmas plans.”
“Okay.” Nate knew this had been his sister’s main reason for calling but had patiently indulged her with small talk about her kids, his job, and the continued crazy snow season down South.
“Do you still intend to bring Jessica?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Okay, Brother. I don’t want what I’m about to say to cause an argument, but if she’s going to be in a home with the rest of my family, we have to talk about something you don’t like.”
“A background check.”
“Yes. And it’s not because of how I do or don’t feel about her. I’d want to know as much as possible about anybody that was coming with us on a family vacation and staying a week.”
“I understand, Sis. What happened to you and Randall last year had to have been traumatizing. I don’t necessarily agree, and I definitely don’t like feeling that I’m going behind someone’s back and snooping on them—”
“Then tell her! Anyone dating these days should make it common practice. Heck, she needs to do one on your behind!”
“I wouldn’t have any qualms about that.”
“And neither should she. If you guys are going to be together long term, there should be no secrets.”
“Sherri, if I do this, I need you to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Be nice to Jessica. Stop judging her. Instead, get to know her. She just might become your sister-in-law.”
“Wow, Nathan . . . it’s that serious?”
“You and Mom have been on my case about settling down. Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re acting shocked.”
“I am, but I’m also happy that you’ve found someone to care about so deeply. Do the background check, Brother. And I’ll welcome your girl Jessica with open arms.”
His attention returned to the laptop screen. He scrolled down, clicked on a website, and after paying the fee for obtaining the report, typed a name into the search box. First glance showed there were dozens of Jessica Boltons in America.
After seeing how the categories were organized, he looked for her age, twenty-eight, and then over to the column for cities. Minutes later, the report was ready. With a hint of trepidation that surprised him, he began to read.
“Hey, pretty lady. Where’s that gorgeous smile?”
Jessica looked up into the hazel-green eyes of Vincent Givens, one of the office’s up-and-coming attorneys. His not-so-subtle flirting had begun within minutes of her being hired as their receptionist a month after arriving in the ATL. If not for her interest in Nathan, she would have acted upon the obvious attraction between them.As it was, she enjoyed their workplace friendship.
“Good afternoon.”
“That’s all I get? No smile to go with that greeting?”
Jessica turned and showed pearly whites.
“Ms. Bolton, on you even a fake smile looks good.”
“There are no messages or mail for you here, Mr. Givens. So if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to work now.”
“Why are you being so hard on someone who’s trying to be nice to you?”
She hid a smile by turning to the memo she’d been typing, and resumed. “Because, like you, I have work to do.”
“All right. But if you ever need anything at all, I’m here for you.” He looked around quickly before leaning closer. “And I do mean . . . anything.”
She didn’t bother to watch him walk
away. No matter, she knew how good that hard butt looked moving down a hall. In another life, she would have been on Vincent like white on rice, would have dated him in a heartbeat. She even wished she could confide in him, tell him about the promise she’d made that was driving her crazy. Unfortunately what she was about to do for her sister was something no one could ever know. If anyone found out, she’d join her dear Sissy; not exactly the type of reunion she’d envisioned. Unable to concentrate, Jessica called her backup and a few minutes later took a break. The downtown streets were as bustling as her thoughts.
Why was Nathan asking so many questions?
Is he angry that I was evasive?
Is that why he didn’t call much last week, and chose to spend Sunday hanging out with his friends?
By the time Jessica reached a well-known deli and decided to grab a sandwich, she’d worked herself into a ball of walking worry, desperate to know if Nathan had found out something best kept hidden.
So much so that the vibrating cell phone in her suit pocket made her jump. Looking at the ID only increased her heart rate. “Hey, Nathan.”
“Hey, baby. Are you all right?”
“I’m just . . . having one of those days, you know?”
“I thought the law firm’s cases slowed during the holidays.”
“Work is fine. It’s just . . .”
“What’s the matter, Jessica?”
“I don’t know. You’ve been so quiet lately and we haven’t hung out as much.”
“That’s why you’re upset? Baby girl, I told you how my schedule would be until Christmas.”
“Yes, but on Sunday you spent time with your friends instead of me.”
“You knew about that days before and didn’t say anything when I told you. What’s got you acting insecure?”
“The holidays make me sad sometimes. That’s all.”
“Lucky for you I have just the type of information that will cheer you up. Why don’t we meet for dinner around seven thirty?”
“That sounds good.”
“Okay, baby.” A pause before adding something he’d never before said in this relationship. “I love you.”
When she exited the deli and stepped outside, her smile had returned and was shining as bright as the sun.
Nate ended the call with Jessica and immediately tapped another number. “Sherri, it’s me.”
“Hey, Brother.”
“So . . . I did what you asked.”
“What’s that?”
“I did a background check on Jessica.”
“And . . .”
“And I’m happy to say that everything she’s ever told me checked out: her marriage, divorce, where she once worked in San Francisco . . . everything!”
“Jessica was married?”
“Yes, when she was very young. It was an abusive relationship that ended a year ago.”
“How old is she?”
Nathan told her. She asked a few more questions. He answered those, too.
“So can you call off your deputy named Renee and turn in your own detective badge?”
“I haven’t been investigating!”
“You’ve never put Jessica’s name into a search engine.”
“Maybe once,” she mumbled.
They laughed.
“It’s all good, Sis. The work schedule is crazy right now. I’m looking forward to chilling on the island.”
“Me too, Nate. It’s going to be a wonderful time.”
That night Nathan and Jessica made quick work of their Thai-food dinner before returning to Nathan’s loft. The night was short. Love was sweet. The next morning they left each other feeling happy and excited about the upcoming holidays. One big happy family. For now.
CHAPTER 8
She almost didn’t take the call. The week had been wonderful. It was TGIF. Nathan had been busy with work, but they’d talked every day. Tonight they’d decided to stay in again—takeout and a movie. Tomorrow’s plan was a club where a friend of Nathan’s was performing. On Sunday, they’d watch football together at their favorite sports bar.And in less than a week—the Bahamas. In spite of the nefarious reason they were together, she enjoyed being with him. Given the situation he and his family had put her sister in, however, Jessica felt selfish for the thought.
“Hello, Sissy. How are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
“I know.”
“I got your letters.”
“Then why haven’t you answered my questions? From what I know so far, this situation doesn’t make sense!”
“Does that mean you won’t help me?”
“I said I would and I will, one way or another. But I need answers. And how I do it and when is up to me. Period.”
“Listen to little Jessie, all grown-up. I apologize for not responding. You deserve to have your questions answered, and they will be, and the timeline should be up to you. You’re there. I’m not. You know what’s going on. I can only speculate and wait for your updates.” Her acquiescence left Jessica no less conflicted. The silence was loud. “Hey, remember when I used to comb your hair and put it in ponytails? You were my doll.”
Jessica sat on the couch and folded her legs beneath her, glad the topic had changed. “As I’ve often told you, I don’t remember much.”
“That’s understandable. You were barely five years old when . . . everything happened.”
“And you saved my life, right?”
“Twice.You don’t remember them, or what happened at all?”
“Our parents?”
“If you can call them that.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Trust me, that’s a good thing.”
“Maybe I’ve subconsciously blocked out the bad memories. Though I do seem to remember an old, gray-haired woman and . . .” Her brows scrunched with the will to remember. “. . . Being carried through clouds of smoke in someone’s arms.”
“The woman you remember is Mrs. Hurley. She seemed ancient but in actuality she just grayed early and was only in her late thirties, early forties when we were kids. I saw her a couple years ago.”
“She’s still alive?”
Her sister laughed. “Yes.”
“Wow, I don’t remember Mama and Dada but I remember her.” Tears unexpectedly formed in Jessica’s eyes. All her life this is what she’d longed for—family. With no memories of her mother, it was Sissy she’d missed and cried for the most.Years after Francine, she’d sought out girls her age to find a friend who could relate to the pain and loneliness she felt in her life. It always backfired, with the girl either lying on her, stealing from her, player-hating, or trying to take her man. Since the age of sixteen all of her friends had been male. But moments like this, girl talk with her sister, were what she’d longed for all these years. This was the only reason why she’d even for a second consider doing what her sister had asked.
“I have so many questions, so much I want to ask you, Sissy. Maybe I can come for a visit. I haven’t seen you in person for well over ten years.”
“I’d like that too, Jessie. But not yet. I’ll explain everything some other time.”
“Okay.”
“Look, my time is up. I have to go. But I’m mailing another letter. We can talk more next week.”
“Oh! That reminds me. You won’t be able to reach me next week. I’ll be in the Bahamas.”
“Lucky you.”
“I’m sorry, Sister, wish I could—”
“Hey!” A curt cutoff, but then her voice softened. “It’s okay. Enjoy yourself. Because once you’re back home . . . we get down to business.”
“Right, down to business. Merry Christmas, Sissy.”
“Sure, Jessie. Happy effing holidays.”
Nathan sat chilling in his boss’s office. Broderick wasn’t much older, only forty-five, but his old-soul personality often made him seem much older. That and the fact that he’d married at eighteen and had a son just five years younger than Nathan. In the two years he
had been with the firm, the two had gone from professional associates to good friends and confidants. Nathan’s stellar performance probably had something to do with Broderick becoming the older brother that Nathan never had.
Broderick picked up a pen and twirled it. “Man, I’ll be glad when this year is over.”
“No doubt. I’m trying to close the deal on the McCormick account before it ends, but the bank is playing hardball, not wanting to lower their interest rate, or extend the terms.”
“What about another bank?”
“I’m researching that as we speak.”
“Of course. I knew you’d be on it. How is Kenneth Hall and the expansion of his business to Vegas coming along?”
“He’s going for it. I talked with a contact who’s lived there for about ten years. She says there’s nothing out there like what he’s is offering.”
“She?”
“Yes, Renee Stanford. She’s my sister’s best friend, who I’ve known since high school. In the next few months, my client and I will probably be flying there to scout locations.”
“Oh, okay. For a moment, I thought there might be a new lady in your life.”
“Actually”—Nathan looked toward the door, then realized they were the only ones still there—“there is.”
“Oh?”
Nathan nodded. “I met her a few months ago. So far, so good.”
“Man, there’s nothing like a solid sister having your back. Anita has always been there for me, Nate, through ups and downs, thick and thin. We haven’t always agreed, and every day wasn’t wine and roses. But at the end of the day we both knew we’d be there for each other. No matter what, know what I’m saying? Having that kind of security about a person is priceless.”
“Y’all have been married for what, twenty-five years?”
“Almost. Twenty-two this past June.”
“I can’t even imagine it.”
“If you’re lucky, you’ll do more than imagine it; you’ll get to experience it for yourself. So when am I going to get to meet this new lady?”
The Perfect Deception Page 4