by Leanna Floyd
“Yes, but they were pending right up until a trial date was set, so the incident report remained in our system. So, you didn’t rape, harm, or threaten to kill Ms. Montgomery?”
“Nope, not a chance,” Barton said. “I just give ’em what they want. Nothing more, nothing less.” And then he looked right at the camera—the first time Brooke recalled him doing that. It was a bit unnerving, as if he knew she was watching him.
“You know what, Joe?” Barton said. “We’re done. My lawyer should be here any minute, so if you want to ask more questions, they’ll have to wait.” Barton looked straight at the camera again and grinned.
Brooke shuddered and wondered how in the world Jacob could willingly participate in defending someone like Zach Barton.
Chapter 10
Toward the end of the week, Jacob noticed it was getting darker outside earlier and earlier, a translucent turquoise band along the horizon his only clue that the sun had set only a few minutes ago. There were no stars and no evening breeze, just the sky holding its breath. Grateful to be back at Roger’s condo, he threw his briefcase and suit jacket onto a barstool, grabbed an apple from the fridge, and stood looking out over the balcony.
He could’ve gone out with some of the crew from work, which he had done several times already, but he really just wanted a little downtime. Or maybe he’d give Brooke a buzz and see if she wanted to grab a bite. Maybe he was getting older, wanting more than alcohol-induced hook-ups could provide, which reminded him of the new friend he’d just made on Facebook the night before, a friend of a friend. Talk about hot! There was something else, though, that intrigued him. He didn’t even know her yet, but he found himself more curious than usual.
Jacob had just changed into sweats when his phone rang. “Dr. Douger,” he said, “I was just thinking of you. Have you had dinner?”
“Hey, there,” Brooke said. “Yes, just got in—a few of the grad students went out. Sorry, babe.”
“No problem,” he said. “You head-cases need time to discuss all the other head-cases.”
“Ja-cob,” she warned. “What have I told you about referring to mental health professionals and their clients?”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, “no crazy talk,” and they both laughed.
“So, what’s up?” she asked. “How’s work? Trial keeping you busy?”
“Definitely. I’m getting a better education than any law school can provide.”
“I don’t doubt that,” she said.
“But I’m still finding time for a social life—unlike some people who bury their heads in books and take their job too seriously, present company excepted, of course,” he teased.
“Hey, I went out tonight,” she said. “I’ve got friends.”
“Well, good for you,” Jacob said. “But when was the last time you went out on a date?”
“Touché—you don’t give up, do you?” Brooke said.
“Never!” he said in a mock-serious tone. “Actually, I’m kinda excited—I may be going on a date of my own this weekend.”
“Stripper or Victoria’s Secret model?”
“Wow, I guess I deserved that,” he said. “She’s actually a friend of Juan’s—remember? The guy I texted you about who’s the son of Jack Taylor, one of the founding partners—”
“At your firm,” she said, “Yes, I remember. So, Juan introduced you to this poor woman you’ve set your sights on?”
“Well, not exactly. When I got in last night, I was on Facebook and got a friend request from someone named Alicia Gonzalez. Her profile pic was hot—you know, great body, beautiful smile, arched back with a curvaceous booty.”
“Sounds just like your type.”
“Yeah, she looked like she was posing for a photo shoot straight out of the pages of H Para Hombres. If you go to my homepage, you can see her for yourself. Take a look.”
“Hold on,” Brooke said.
Jacob brought up Alicia’s pic, too, wondering if she really looked as hot as he remembered. Smiling back at him was a beautiful Latina in a red swimsuit, her butt perked up in the air, her back perfectly arched as she stood on her tiptoes to reveal smooth calf muscles. Dark caramel colored ringlets cascaded down and contrasted against her cocoa brown shoulders. Her eyes were chestnut brown with shards of butterscotch, piercing but inviting, the type that was bound to make any man vulnerable to falling under her spell.
“She’s very beautiful,” Brooke said politely.
“So, this hot Puerto Rican woman wants me to be her friend? And she’s a friend of Juan’s? That’s a no-brainer. But you know what sold me? Her quote of the day: ‘Live life to the fullest!’ Yep, definitely my kinda girl!”
“Yes, it does sound like you two might have a few things in common,” Brooke said.
“So, I accepted her request and asked her how she knew Juan,” he said. “She said they partied together a few times, and since she saw me on Juan’s page, she figured I was cool to hit up. I wrote back and asked her if she wanted to grab dinner or a drink this weekend.”
“Boy, you don’t waste any time,” Brooke said.
“Hey, that’s just what Alicia said! Anyway, she said she’d love to meet and would let me know about this weekend as soon as she figured out her schedule. Only problem, she’s in Miami.”
“That’s great, Jacob. I hope you two hit it off.”
“We’ll see. You know how it goes. She may end up being just another pretty face, after me for my body.”
Brooke laughed and said, “You really are full of yourself—did you know that?”
“What can I say? I’m modest and humble to boot!”
“So much to love about you.”
“Exactly. And what about you? Any prospects on the horizon? Any reformed psychos that have been cured by your sorcery and fallen under your spell?”
“Just you,” she said, “so I’m still looking.”
They laughed again and any tension between them seemed to melt. “Well, I better let you go—hey, guess who’s online?”
“Who?” Brooke said.
“Alicia! She wants to know if I can chat right now—gotta go!”
Chapter 11
Brooke walked along the beach, disappointed that she didn’t get to talk to Jacob about the reason she called—the trial. Still it didn’t surprise her. She knew he had the attention span of a fly most of the time. And this new thing with that Facebook bombshell he just met online—same old Jacob. Sometimes she wished he would grow up and quit chasing after fantasies, but what if that day never came? And why did she care so much anyway? She and Jacob would never be more than friends—would they?
The tide was coming in and lapped at her feet. Off in the distance just below the dark horizon, she could see the lights of a fishing boat. She passed a couple joggers and an older couple, but the beach was mostly quiet. Despite her disappointment, she felt peaceful listening to the surf lapping along the shore. Stars glistened in the twilight and the air was noticeably cooler; it felt like autumn.
It was probably time to pull her sweaters and light jackets out of the closet, and she made a mental note for the weekend. It amused her the way many Floridians, especially the wealthier ones, looked for any excuse to wear winter clothing, even though the winters rarely dipped below fifty degrees. She remembered attending a psych conference one fall in Boca Raton a couple years ago and being amazed at the number of ladies in fur coats and mink jackets.
Brooke liked nice things as much as the next girl, but money and status symbols had never motivated her ambition. She wanted to help people, plain and simple.
Whenever she was able to assist clients in making different, better choices for their lives or to facilitate the recovery of someone battling an addiction, she felt alive. Yes, there was a price to pay, but it was just part of the current season of her life. She knew she spent a considerable amount of time in the library, the classroom, and the counseling office, and as a result, her love life had been at an all-time low for the past couple year
s.
She would occasionally go out for drinks with a few of the other grad students, but they often wanted to hit the clubs and stay out late. She wasn’t sure why she had lied to Jacob on the phone—it was just the thought of going out that bugged her. Of course, Brooke enjoyed having a good time, but she felt the weight of her responsibilities.
Besides, there would be plenty of time for drinks and clubs after she had her degree.
Darkness had fallen by the time she walked back to her apartment building. After changing into a long t-shirt, she knew she needed to eat something, and found a Lean Cuisine in her freezer, which she popped into the microwave. Debating whether to have iced tea or a glass of wine, she uncorked the nice cabernet she’d been saving for some unknown special occasion and poured herself a glass.
Maybe her natural disciplined tendencies explained why she continued to live vicariously through Jacob’s very active social life. He made friends easily and could always dazzle whomever he happened to set his sights on. Just last weekend, he had called to tell her all about his new buddy, Juan Carlos Taylor, the twenty-something year old son of the legal firm’s founding partner, Jack Taylor.
Juan’s mother was a former model, and he had inherited her Latin good looks.
With a dark tan, washboard abs, hazel eyes, bright smile, and chiseled looks, Juan was an actor and had played a major role in one of Lady Gaga’s music videos the previous year. Jacob had forced Brooke to watch part of it and had become annoyed when she’d laughed at how clichéd Juan’s role seemed. While a bikini-clad Gaga lounged poolside, Juan along with three other hot, exotic-looking men—all in skimpy Speedos—danced around her.
Clearly, Jacob admired Juan and felt like he was becoming part of the ‘in’-crowd because he’d hung out with Juan at a couple of parties. Brooke had seen this pattern with Jacob before. He always boasted like he knew who’s who in every hot spot and always played it off like he had access to all of the exclusive clubs. But in reality, Brooke knew, it was not Jacob who had the privileges, but rather it was always a friend of a friend who would have this type of pull. He just always seemed to be at the right place at the right time.
Brooke rinsed her empty plate, placed it in the dishwasher, poured another half glass of wine, and got comfortable on the sofa. She distracted herself with busywork, commenting on the case notes of her first-year students and looking over the next major area of research for her dissertation, violence related to psychopathology. Not exactly bedtime reading, but as her eyes grew heavy, she decided to call it a day.
Tired as she was, though, she couldn’t sleep. As she lay there, staring at the light creeping in from the moon through small openings in her blinds, her room seemed cold and devoid of any comfort she had hoped to find beneath her covers. She was hopeful that her loneliness wouldn’t last forever, eager to believe there was someone out there for her. Someone perhaps with Jacob’s pizzazz and sense of humor but without his competitive, insecure alpha-male ego and attraction to superficial beauty.
Or maybe Jacob would mature and grow up one day, and the two of them might… No, that was silly and too implausible even to imagine. She would never be the kind of woman Jacob seemed to be drawn to, the sexy siren who flaunts her body and enjoys being the center of attention. That simply wasn’t who she was. She didn’t think she was unattractive, but she didn’t enjoy drawing attention to herself and her body.
In her dreams later that night, she was on a beach and Jacob was photographing her. Her hair was blonder, and she wore bright red lipstick and a tiny swimsuit. He kept praising her beauty and encouraging her to frolic in the waves and to smile for the camera, which she did.
But then when they looked over the photos together, she looked like her normal self, plainer and certainly more covered up. Jacob was disappointed and walked away, and she was left holding the photos, which she tossed into the ocean.
She awoke with tears in her eyes.
Chapter 12
“Hey, there—I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon! What a nice surprise!”
Looking at his computer screen, Jacob found himself smiling ear to ear, grateful he was alone so no one else could see his childlike reactions.
The instant message from Alicia blinked at him: “Hey! You around? What’s up?”
He waited for a full two minutes before he responded, carefully thinking through the attitude and persona he wanted to project. After all, he still had his ego to protect, and he didn’t want to appear desperate. “Hey there,” he typed back. “Just chillin’ here—u?”
Now he knew it would seem like forever having to wait on her to respond. There was always a disadvantage to talking to someone via the computer, so many different ways to read and misread the other person’s intentions without any real way to tell the different inflections used or the intended tone. Her words materialized onscreen and he smiled again.
Alicia: “Are you busy?”
Jacob: “Never too busy for you.”
Alicia: “Aww, you’re sweet. Work is crushing me right now, but usually I’m not that busy either. I’ve really enjoyed our chats so far. So, how was work today?”
Jacob: “Long, but good…I’m working on a murder case.”
It was an obvious ploy, but Jacob was still hoping to get a rise out of Alicia. It wasn’t every day that someone worked on murder cases. Surely, that would impress her.
Alicia: “Wow, a real murder case?”
Jacob: “Yes, babe, a real murder case.”
Alicia: “Is it like those shows you watch on TV, like CSI?”
Jacob: “Not exactly… my job is primarily dealing with legal matters in the courtroom, not forensics.”
Alicia: “Wow! So you’re an attorney?”
Jacob: “Not yet. More like an attorney-in-training. I’m working at Juan’s father’s firm as a legal advisor.”
That was one way of putting it. No way he could let her know he was basically a glorified gofer, fetching coffee, making copies, researching details, and sending emails. After all, it wasn’t a lie… just a creative way of describing his role.
Alicia: “I can only imagine the things you must see. I mean the pictures of victims, and the crime scene photos. Scary stuff.”
Jacob: “Yes, that’s all part of the territory. Crime scene photos are crucial in helping us put the pieces together… they give the dead a voice… they tell a story without words.”
Alicia: “Wow, that sounds so important. And you sound so poetic describing what you do. My job is so blah compared to yours… I mean I love my job, but there’s little to no excitement… at least not the kind of drama you usually see.”
Jacob: “What type of work do you do?”
Alicia: “I sell commercial real estate—you know, office space, strip malls, that sort of thing.”
Jacob: “Well, that sounds interesting, but I’m not sure I could do it—and definitely not as well as you probably do it. Guess I’ll keep trying to pursue truth, justice, and the American way for now, lol.”
Alicia: “Hands down, you win! I mostly just find properties for nail salons, tanning shops, and Chinese restaurants. Every now and then, a big company that wants to expand… or downsize.”
Jacob: “Aside from your job, what else should I know about you? Former model? Ex-convict? Maybe you’re a serial killer who lures helpless men like me into your web before you chop them up.”
Once again, he thought he’d try to stir up trouble and see how she responded. Having a good sense of humor and being able to handle whatever came along were important qualities for Jacob. He wanted to test the waters and see how Alicia handled a little splash in the face.
Alicia: “Thanks a lot! You better be joking, big boy. And you’re far from helpless—I can tell that already. Me, a serial killer? It’s funny actually. I can’t even stand the sight of blood! I may have some issues, but killing someone… now that’s a whole different level of crazy. Makes me wonder what type of women you’ve dated in the past? Clearly so
me wackos!”
Jacob: “You know I’m just kidding! Well, I can’t exactly say I’ve always made the best choices in women… but I have learned from my mistakes. Seriously, tell me more about yourself and what you’re like.”
Alicia: “For your sake, let’s hope so! So, about me… I am pretty much an open book…just ask me anything and I’ll be glad to tell you… like you, I’ve learned the hard way that honesty is always the best policy.”
Jacob: “Okay, let’s start with the basics—married, single, or currently divorced? Any children?”
Alicia: “Definitely not married! Hope you don’t think I’d be talking to you this much if I were married. But I do have a son who’s nine years old. His name is Charles—well, he goes by Charlie. I’ve been a single mom almost from the time he was born. Charlie’s father left us and moved back to Puerto Rico years ago.”
Jacob: “It’s not easy being a single parent—I’m sure you do an awesome job. Tell me more about Charlie. What’s he like?”
Alicia: “Thanks, sweetie—I do try. Charlie… he’s the love of my life…he comes before anything and anyone. He’s in the third grade and really smart. He likes soccer but he loves cars.”
Jacob: “Cars, huh? He sounds like my kinda kid. I’ve been known to put a Porsche or Lamborghini through its paces.”
He made a mental note to look for a scale-model that he could send to Charlie. While he’d never dated anyone with children before, Jacob knew it could never hurt to win the kid over as early as possible.
Alicia: “Yes, Charlie is wonderful. I just wish his father wasn’t such a jerk. I feel so sad sometimes for my son. I can tell that he misses his father, or at least a father figure, in his life. He tries to pal around with my dad, but it’s not the same. Charlie has been asking me a lot of questions about his father lately. I just don’t know what to say. I never want Charlie to blame himself for his father being absent in his life. He is such a good kid.”
Jacob: “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened between you and Charlie’s father?”