The Perfect Deception

by Lutishia Lovely

  “Your bedroom. I’m going to give you a massage.”

  “Really, Vincent? That’s the oldest trick in the player playbook. Your grandfather probably used it.”

  “Could be how I got here. I guarantee you this. I won’t do anything that you don’t want me to do. Deal?”

  She pulled herself off the couch. “Deal.”

  They went into her bedroom. She went into the bathroom, changed into shorts and a spaghetti-strap top and brought out a bottle of vanilla-scented massage oil.

  Vincent took the bottle, poured a small amount into his hands and began briskly rubbing them together. “Now lie down, close your eyes, and try to relax.”

  His hands worked as if they’d been trained in the profession. For thirty minutes, he worked out kinks from the balls of her feet to the top of her head. Finally, he sat beside her.

  “Jessica?” he whispered. “Are you asleep?”

  She groaned. He chuckled.

  “Do you feel better?”

  “Uh-huh.” She slowly turned toward him. “That felt amazing.”

  “Good. I could feel when you truly began to relax. I’m glad I could help you get a good night’s sleep.”

  “I’m sure to do that,” she said amid a yawn.

  “That looks like my cue to get kicked out.”

  Jessica rolled onto her back and looked at him through hooded eyes. “Do you want to leave?”

  He did that sexy half lick, half lip-chew thing that can only be pulled off by certain men with a particular swagger. “You know I don’t.”

  “Then I won’t kick you out.”

  Soon clothes came off, bodies rubbed together and a different kind of stroking lasted well into the night.

  CHAPTER 40

  Jessica braced herself for seeing Vincent in the office. He’d left during the early morning hours, told her he had a breakfast meeting and would be in around ten. It was now ten thirty and he still wasn’t there. It wasn’t that she cared whether or not he showed up for work. She just wanted to get this first-time-seeing-coworker-after-screwing encounter over with.

  Ding.

  Forcing herself not to look, she reached into her drawer for a file she didn’t need.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Three words and the girl almost needed to go change her panties. Instant flashes of what he’d done, she’d done, what they’d done to each other last night. She squeezed her thighs tight and turned to address Mr. Givens the attorney, not Vincent the freak.

  It would have worked had she not looked at him in time to see his hazel-green eyes darken to an earthy brown. “Hello.” The word came out in a whisper, on a gust of air. As if on cue, Ms. Nosy from around the corner chose this sexually tense moment to need something from the front desk.

  “Mr. Underwood is expecting a FedEx package,” she said curtly, looking between Vincent and Jessica as though they were under arrest. “Has it arrived?”

  “All packages are delivered immediately. I’ll call as soon as it’s here.”

  “I know the procedures around here better than you do,” Ms. Nosy snarled. “And all the rules as well. So watch yourself.”

  They watched her stiff retreat, barely containing their laughter.

  As Vincent left right after with a wink and a smile, Jessica thanked Ms. Nosy. The Ice Queen’s interruption doused a fire about to burn out of control. When it came to keeping this little tryst under wraps, the two had work to do.

  Jessica tried to focus on a variety of tasks, but it was difficult. From the time Vincent darkened her door until he left, she’d not given Nathan a thought. Soon after, however, came thoughts of the unfinished business for Sissy and the woman named Develia that would make said business easier to complete. Then Vincent texted her, and musing over Nathan and his island side-piece again left her mind. But today was proving to be a slow one, with rarely ringing phones and only busy work to occupy the hours. The reality of what had happened yesterday could no longer be ignored. Everything her sister had said about Nathan had proved true. He’d say that he loved her. He’d cheat. He’d lie. He’d promise to change, buy her a gift, and then do it all again.

  She reached for her cell phone. There was a text message from Vincent.

  Meet me here at 1. There was an address.

  What restaurant is this?

  Vincent’s Place.

  She hesitated, not sure if she should be with Vincent while dealing with Nathan.

  Don’t say no. It’s important.

  She smiled, amazed at how well Vincent knew her. All right. I’ll be there.

  Ten minutes later, when she went on break, she called Nathan. The call went to voice mail so she left a message. Now it was just a waiting game to see if he’d call back.

  By 12:50 she still hadn’t heard from him. But her backup returned from lunch and her boss was gone, so she left a little early and headed to a gentrified area fifteen minutes south of downtown. Following her GPS, she pulled in front of a two-story bungalow house with large picture windows and a small but nicely landscaped yard. Similar homes filled the quiet block. Tall, full trees gave the neighborhood a grounded, well-established vibe. Looking around but not seeing Vincent’s car, she sent a text.

  Within seconds, her phone rang. “Get in here, beautiful. We don’t have all day.”

  She laughed and hurried to the front door. It opened steps before she reached it. Vincent pulled her in and greeted her with a hot, wet kiss.

  “Come in and see what I’ve prepared for you.” He held her hand, leading her from the foyer through a long living room with a high ceiling.

  Jessica took in the home as they went. “This is really nice, Vincent. I didn’t think I liked old houses, but this is beautiful.”

  When they reached the dining room, she stopped short. Her mouth dropped open. Before her was an elaborate table setting and a four-course meal, so beautifully displayed it could have been ripped from a magazine.

  She looked at him, eyes shining. “I can’t believe you did this.” She stepped up and took in the menu: creamed broccoli soup; a tomato, avocado, and fresh mozzarella salad; pecan-crusted pork chops on a bed of wild rice; and sliced strawberries with whipped cream. “You’ve got to give me the name of the restaurant that provided this setup. Everything looks delicious. They must have an amazing chef!”

  “You’re looking at him.”

  “No way.” He nodded. “How, when you had a breakfast appointment and got to work before eleven?”

  “Preparing this for you was my appointment. Let’s eat, my love, before the food gets cold.”

  She sat down and soon her taste buds were in heaven. Every bite she relished was better than the last.

  Vincent barely ate, instead content to watch pure enjoyment skip across her face. “I’ve dreamt of this moment,” he admitted. “From the first day you joined us, I imagined you here, in that chair, eating something wonderful I’d prepared.”

  “You really cooked all of this?”

  An impish smile slowly spread across his face. “I so want to have you believe that I did. But I can’t take the credit. I hired a chef.”

  “Just for me? That is so sweet.”

  “I thought you’d like it. But having lunch is only one reason why I asked you here, a very small part of the overall plan.”

  “What plan is that?”

  “I really care about you, Jessica. I just knew that if we got together it was going to be magic. Last night proved I was right. I don’t want this to be just a casual fling or a string of clandestine sexual encounters. I want you to be my woman, move into this house, meet my grandmother, build some dreams. And I want to be your man.”

  His words had slowed Jessica’s eating, the sounds of which were almost as good as the taste of the food. She loved Nathan, but knowing he’d lied about his and Dev’s relationship, saying they were just friends when Jessica knew their thing began at the New Year, had broken a huge trust. Not to mention his behavior after she’d left. He never turn
ed down sex . . . ever, until last night. Nathan had seemed different, but less than six months in and he was just like the rest. She looked at Vincent, intelligent and handsome, looking sincere. What’s to say that you’re different, that this nice home won’t become my prison? Her shoulders slumped.

  Vincent did not miss the shift. “You don’t believe me.”

  “I do. I mean I want to but . . . something happened yesterday.”

  “What?”

  “Remember when I said Nathan and I had problems and you asked if he was cheating?” He nodded. “He was. I met her yesterday.”

  “What? How?”

  She told him the story. “I got in my car and left,” she finished. “And then I called you.”

  “I’m glad that you called me, Jessie, but I want to be more than a rebound lover. What, why are you looking at me that way?”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I’m glad you called but—”

  “No, what did you call me?”

  “Oh, Jessie? I’m sorry. That’s my pet name for you in my mind. Are you offended?”

  “No, I like it. I like it a lot.”

  “Have you broken the engagement and given back the ring?” She shook her head. “Why not?”

  “I was so numb when I left his house, I didn’t think at all.”

  “Then I’ll give you space to do that. I don’t mind waiting. But only if I know that I’m not just wasting my time, that me and you being together is actually possible.”

  She pondered his question, then looked up and smiled. “Anything’s possible.”

  Nathan stood at the office window facing his backyard. It was Friday, there were no meetings at the office, so he’d decided to work from home. With extra sleep and a slower pace he’d felt better until now, when digesting the news he’d just received, from the person answering phones where Jessica worked, turned his stomach again. She’d left for lunch almost two hours ago and still wasn’t back. Vincent had left about the same time, he was told, and hadn’t returned either. “Is that why you’ve been so paranoid, Jessica? Continually accusing me of cheating because of your duplicity?”

  The ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. “Hello, Dev.”

  “Good afternoon, Nathan. How are you?”

  “I’m okay. How are you?”

  “I’m amazing. There’s something about New York that lifts your spirits and energizes you. We just landed a couple hours ago and I’ve felt great ever since.”

  “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

  “Between shopping, eating, sightseeing, and shows, we’ve got almost every waking hour planned for the next three days. But I got your text and wanted to call to let you know I’ve arrived and I’m okay. Let’s plan a long chat for next week, when I return home.”

  “That sounds perfect, Dev. Thanks again for being so understanding and for . . . just being you.”

  They ended the call. Nathan held a conference call with the Morris Environmental project and called Renee to cancel the Vegas trip. He’d expected disappointment and her usual flirting and was surprised yet pleased to learn that she had stopped trying to get her groove back and had landed a seasoned gent. “I thought the only thing I could do with fifty-five was the speed limit,” she’d explained with a laugh. “I’ve never been treated so well in my life!” After promising to keep in touch, he let her go and refocused on work. The next time he looked up it was six o’clock. The day had flown by with no call from Jessica. So he picked up a gourmet pizza and a bottle of wine, and headed over to her condo.

  He buzzed her unit, and after receiving no answer used the key she’d given to him shortly after the sickness started and he’d given her a key to his place. He placed the pizza on the kitchen counter and the wine in the fridge. Walking into the living room, he stood and looked around. It was the first time he’d come in without Jessica present and was taken by how strange it felt to be here. He pulled out his phone and shot her a quick text.

  Don’t stop for food. I’m at your house. Dinner’s waiting.

  That message sent, Nathan put his hands in his pockets and strolled around the living room. He noticed several things for the first time: a framed poem called “Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day” by Nikki Giovanni, a collection of miniature porcelain birds atop a silver branch, an old faded picture in a silver frame, of two young girls, all smiles and pigtails. He picked up the picture and studied it carefully. Is this Jessica? He couldn’t say exactly but assumed so. And the sister she once mentioned . . . but lately hadn’t seen. He put the framed picture back in its place and continued his casual perusal. When he heard the front door, he stepped out of her bedroom and entered the living room from the hallway as she walked inside.

  They stopped and looked at each other with mixed expressions.

  “Hey,” he finally said.

  “Hey.”

  “I tried reaching you today.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She moved past him, set her things on the coffee table, and began checking her mail. “I called you, too.” She tossed the envelopes on the table. “I’m kind of surprised to see you here, Nathan. I thought you’d be with Dev.”

  “Is that what you thought, or what you hoped so you could be with Vincent?”

  Bam.

  Jessica took the bullet without flinching. “The person who gets caught tries to throw shade on the one who caught him. Very original, Nathan.”

  “It’s not true? You’re not still seeing Vincent? He looked at her hand. Is that why you’re not wearing my ring?”

  She plopped on the couch and picked up a magazine with a resigned sigh. “I’m not going to do this, Nathan. If you want to talk, we can talk. If you want to break up with me, I can’t stop you and am honestly too tired to try. What I’m not going to do is sit here and go tit for tat about who’s stepping out when according to both of us, it’s both of us!”

  The air crackled with tension.

  Jessica looked over, then back at the magazine.

  Nathan sat at the bar counter and scrolled his cell phone.

  He didn’t leave, for a very specific reason.

  She wanted him to stay, for reasons of her own.

  Jessica broke almost ten minutes of silence by offering Nathan a can of soda. Nathan thanked her and accepted it. He told Jessica that Dev was a friend, nothing more. She told him that Vincent was a co-worker, that’s all. Jessica heated the pizza. They drank the wine. Jessica yawned and headed for bed. Nathan went home.

  This chess game could continue for only so long. Either one or the other would call checkmate. But one thing was for sure: There was no way they could both get what they wanted.

  CHAPTER 41

  Things changed. Subtle shifts, slight irregularities, unusual bumps in what in the beginning had been a smooth groove. Ever since Friday night a week ago, when Nathan and Jessica had agreed to give their relationship one last try, there had been a cognitive dissonance played out in many ways. There had also been a return of nausea and cramps.

  The following Monday, Nate had been awakened by a five a.m. phone call. Broderick wanted him to meet a small group at the DeKalb Peachtree Airport for a day trip to Jackson, Mississippi, where a client proposed to purchase a large acreage of real estate. It was a full schedule, from the time the corporate jet took off at seven, until it landed at five. Afterwards, the group had gone to dinner. During this time, Jessica had called several times and finally texted him a question about his health. Unusual, since she knew how hectic his days normally were, especially when out of town. Even after he’d replied saying he felt better, she called twice more. On his way home, when he could finally return her call and find out what the heck was going on, she’d simply said, “I’m worried about you.”

  Tuesday night, she’d gone over to Nathan’s, bringing her now staple gifts of orange juice and soda that she purchased every week. “You don’t have to do that,” he’d told her.

  “But you were out,” she’d replied, as if the an
swer should have been obvious.

  Which led Nathan to ponder: When did she start checking my refrigerator for supplies?

  And tonight, after a full week for Nathan and a long one for Jessica, they sat at an Atlanta Hawks basketball game intermission like virtual strangers, acting like they were enjoying themselves, when neither—for different reasons—felt joyous at all.

  After watching the halftime show in silence and then feeling Nathan was more interested in checking out the jerseys hanging from the rafters than in talking to her, she tapped his arm. “What’s going on with you?”

  Nathan answered without looking at her. “Nothing.”

  “Do you still feel sick?” He nodded. “Have you been drinking the orange juice and soda?”

  “Yes.”

  “And eating the soup I fixed?”

  He looked at her. “Faithfully.”

  “I can’t understand why you’re not—I mean, with this constant illness, I’m surprised you had the strength to work all week, and then come here.”

  “It hasn’t been easy.”

  “That’s why you’re quiet. You don’t feel well.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t feel like staying at home, keeping you cooped up.”

  “I wouldn’t have cared.”

  He looked at her intently before turning his attention to the players warming up for the second half. “I probably should go back to the hospital and take those tests the doctor suggested.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  This comment got his attention again. “Really? I’d think with how worried you’ve been about me, getting an all clear from the doctor would be a relief.”

  “I was only thinking of your job, and your schedule, the reasons you haven’t gone so far. But if you can spare three, four days in the hospital . . .” She shrugged and watched the cheerleaders’ showy routine.

  They were both glad when the game resumed and they had somewhere to legitimately place their focus other than on each other. Afterward, the colleague who’d given Nathan the choice seat tickets texted him about a VIP after-party.