by Lia Lee
Jessica sat down with her at the diner down the street and found herself shredding her napkin to ribbons. Dana wasn’t part of the sorority, but they had known one another since the two of them had suffered through an art history course in which the professor didn’t seem to understand PowerPoint.
“I got so much homework done while she was up there screwing around with that projector,” Jessica said.
“Right? I spent practically every class doing figure studies of all our classmates.” Dana chuckled. “It was like a double-duty art class for me. I could turn in my sketches for my drawing class.”
“You spend a lot of time with your cousins, right?” Jessica asked. “Could you give me some pointers on what kind of things you’d do with them to keep them active and engaged?”
“I mean, I have, but they’re fifteen and twelve. And they have their dad, still.”
“The girl I work with is about eleven. It’s not that different.”
“Are you looking for art stuff to do or outside stuff? My cousins mostly want to play video games.”
Jessica shook her head, feeling a bit proud. “No, she doesn’t play video games or watch TV much. She’s interested in so many different things, but mostly science and sports. She’s sweet, and very smart, and clever without being mean.”
“Sounds like a great kid.”
“Yeah, I adore her. I hope things get better for her soon. The kids at her school are pretty awful to her.”
“Unsurprisingly, I didn’t have a good time in school.” Dana grinned and picked up a fry. “I can suggest some pranks to pull on the little assholes.”
“Well, maybe as a last resort.” Jessica took a fry from Dana’s plate. “Do go on.”
***
“Oh, no. I’m only wearing a tank top.”
“Is that all? You’re really wandering around your apartment without underwear on?”
“Okay, you got me. I have a pair of panties on, too.” Jessica was perched on a stool in the kitchen. It was getting to be a bad habit, flirting and fooling around on the phone. The first time had been on Monday when she hadn’t come over… Now he sometimes called her in the middle of the day, or if she left the manor before Brent returned from work. Sometimes, she called him.
They’d managed to keep their hands off of one another in person… mostly. But the separation was a tease that only made their inevitable calls and lingering looks hotter.
“What color are they?”
Jessica licked Greek yogurt off her spoon. “Different colors. They have a broad orange-pink band along the top, and then hot pink and orange-pink kiss marks.”
“Oh, really?”
“Like when a girl puts on lipstick and lays one on your cheek?”
“That’s sounds… interesting. I’m imagining what those must look like on you.”
“They’re hipsters. That means they come down low, but the legs are cut flat across.”
“Can I see anything when you’re wearing them?”
“Hmm… Well, not from the front. In the back though…”
“You can see a bit?”
“Yeah, just a little.” Jessica caught herself giggling.
Brent let out a breath, like he had just run up a flight of stairs. “I think I need to see these to believe them.”
“Maybe you do.” Jessica traced a pattern on the counter. “What are you wearing? Is it a boxer day?”
“I wear dark-colored ones, thank you.”
“Hmm, not sure if that would make you Mr. Super Intimidating at all.”
“You caught me on the right day.” He paused, and she bit her lip, grinning. “Some days I’m not wearing any underwear at all.”
“Oh, my God!” Jessica was grateful no one was in the apartment to catch her playing with her hair.
“If you wanted, I could arrange for one of those days to be this week… Maybe next time you come over?”
“And what am I supposed to do with that?”
“You don’t have to do anything but enjoy knowing that I’m swinging free, just for you.”
Jessica laughed and rubbed her forehead. “Maybe I’ll let you guess whether I’m wearing anything the next time you see me.”
“This sounds like an interesting game. What do I win if I guess correctly?”
“Maybe…” Jessica thought for a moment. “If you guess wrong, you’ll have to wear something of my choosing the next time we go out.”
“And if I’m right?”
“Then I wear something you choose… any place you choose.”
A hand touched Jessica’s shoulder, and she nearly fell off her stool. She immediately put her phone down on the benchtop. “Oh, God! Daddy, you scared me!”
“Sorry about that, peanut.” Allen patted her back. “I thought I would’ve beat you here, so I just let myself in. Who are you talking to?”
Jessica felt her heart lodged in her throat. How much had he heard? “It’s just Dana. From class? We were just fooling around.” She picked up her phone again. “Sorry, I have to go. My dad’s here.”
“I heard. Have a good lunch.”
Jessica ended the call, feeling her stomach churn with guilt. She hated to lie to her father, even though he seemed to believe her. She excused herself to go get dressed properly.
She was wearing a lot more than she’d told Brent though. And she was being far more G-rated than she’d been in the privacy of her bedroom a few nights before. Good thing, too, because if she’d repeated the game from last time, and her father had heard it? Oh, damn it, her father would have gone total Chernobyl on the whole situation.
And the worst part is she’d deserve that reaction.
This was a dangerous game she was playing, and she was playing with two men she wouldn’t hurt for the world. Brent had his daughter to think of, of course, and her dad, well… He’d been so hurt when her mother had cheated. It had been a betrayal that had broken their family in half.
Honestly, Jessica didn’t know if her father had ever really recovered. And for Jessica, she knew she hadn’t forgiven her mother yet. She didn’t know if she could. So how could she risk hurting her father when he inevitably found out about their affair?
Jessica grabbed her purse and pulled her hair back. She was going to have to break off this thing with Brent before things got out of control. Having Dad overhear that… almost getting caught…
It knocked the thrill of the fantasy and her feelings right out of her.
***
Jessica’s determination held firm, and she came to the mansion the next day laden with supplies. Cara came home from school a little sulky, but the girl perked up when they took over the kitchen together, with Cecile’s permission, and started making a dessert together for after dinner.
Cara had no experience in the kitchen, so when Jessica gave her instructions for how to make and roll out the pastry, she listened with rapt attention. Of course, Jessica encouraged taste-testing.
Before they were done, flour covered the kitchen as well as their hair, but Cara was giggly and excited for how everything would turn out. Everything smelled wonderful.
“Dad’s never gonna believe I made this. Even Mom never cooked,” Cara said.
“Well, I don’t cook; I bake. That’s kind of unfortunate, since the former is more necessary to survival.” Jessica wiped her hands on her apron.
“That makes sense. Baking is more science than cooking.”
“That’s right! All reactions between the ingredients.” Jessica bobbed her head from side to side. “I could probably learn to cook, too, if I tried. My go-to dish is ramen.”
Cara grinned.
“No really – Asian soups are the best food in the world. Wonton soup, egg drop soup, and ramen, with the crinkly noodles, soft-boiled eggs, and thin cuts of meat. It’s really good.”
“Maybe some time we can make dinner for Dad,” Cara suggested.
“Maybe. Though I think what you wanna do right now is go upstairs and get cleaned up. Or he’s gonna
think you’re what we baked.” Jessica held up her hand for a high five. “Up top, kiddo. We did it.”
Cara slapped her hand before bouncing out of the kitchen. Jessica pulled her hair out of her ponytail and rustled it, trying to minimize the saturation of whiteness in her brown hair.
“Ugh.” She caught sight of herself in the window and leaned forward to brush a streak of white off her cheek. At this rate, she might not be the one breaking things off.
Jessica played on her phone for a few minutes, then set it aside and bent over the oven to check on their dessert. While she wasn’t big on cooking, she would definitely do it more – if she had a kitchen like this. The oven door was glass, and she could check on the contents of the oven without opening it and letting out any heat.
At that moment, firm fingers pinched her behind, and she jumped up with a squeak.
“Brent!” She smacked his chest as he laughed.
“I couldn’t resist!” Brent held his hands up. “What have you been up to here?”
“We baked some apple tarts for after dinner.”
“We? As in Cara?”
Jessica pointed to him. “You have to save that expression – because she wanted to see the look on your face. She takes direction very well. I don’t think she’d want to be a professional chef, but it’s a good hobby. You know, to destress sometimes.”
“That’s excellent. Jessica, I don’t know what we’d do without you. You’re always looking out for Cara and coming up with ways for her to handle things just a little better.”
“I wasn’t that much different than her. And she’s an easy kid. She’s so open to trying everything.”
“I’m so grateful that you feel that way.”
Jessica wiped her cheek and smiled. It hurt a little, what she was about to say, but she had to say it.
“I really do. And that’s why… I mean, I think we need to…” Jessica took a breath. “We need to try to be very careful—”
“I couldn’t agree more. I’ve been a little sloppy, but I will do my very best to keep this under wraps. No more mistakes like the other day. No more calling from the office, definitely.”
“Well, yes, but also…”
Brent took both of her hands and smiled down at her as he squeezed them. Jessica melted at his touch.
You have to tell him.
Brent reached up to brush flour from her cheek. “Jessica, I want you to come away with me for the weekend. It’ll be just like Saturday night, only we’ll have several days all to ourselves.”
“I like having Cara around,” Jessica objected.
“Of course, but I know it concerns you that she might see us together and be upset.” Brent’s fingers carded through her hair. “I love spending time with you. I want to do more of it. This is the most alive I’ve felt since LeeAnne died.”
“Brent, I…” Jessica felt like she couldn’t breathe. She kept thinking about the night in the limo, the way her heart raced when they were on the phone, how it felt to simply try new things with him.
“Please come with me,” Brent pleaded softly.
Jessica wanted to open her mouth and tell him no. She wanted to tell him that this needed to stop before someone got hurt.
Instead, she found herself kissing him passionately. She stumbled back into the kitchen island, and he lifted her up onto it so he could cup her face in both hands and forcefully possess her lips.
The timer rang, and Jessica pulled away. She looked into his eyes merrily and gave his cheek a light smack.
“Save it for this weekend, buddy.”
Chapter Ten
Brent
“This is amazing.”
Brent couldn’t help smiling at the expression on Jessica’s face, the way she looked so totally transported, almost enraptured, by the rich flavor of the caviar she was nibbling at. “I’m glad you like it,” he answered, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his. “This weekend, I want to you to enjoy every single moment.”
He knew he was smiling like an idiot, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she smiled back at him, the deep chocolate-brown of her eyes seeming almost to glow with warmth. She was so young and beautiful, so lovely and fresh and perfect that it almost hurt to look at her. He wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted anything.
The strangeness of that thought made pain and confusion bloom inside him. Memories of LeeAnne, thoughts of how very young Jessica was, the painful awareness of how badly making love to her would complicate matters… It all tangled inside him, almost choking him with guilt.
He had no damn business being here with her. No matter how much he wanted her, the simple and terrible truth was that making love to her could smash his career, his family, and his life to smithereens. His friend, his partner, and his daughter could all be hurt badly, not to mention Jessica herself. He was a selfish bastard to even consider taking her to bed.
And yet…
Resolutely, he shoved the guilt and the worry aside. For this one single precious weekend, he intended to grab onto what he wanted with both hands, to live and love and laugh in a way he hadn’t in nearly a decade. He was entitled to a little happiness, damn it. Just a little. Just two days of joy. It wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?
Besides, Jessica deserved this too. She was a wonderful woman, despite her youth, and she deserved to be treated like a princess, fed outrageously expensive caviar and priceless wines, to stay in the most luxurious hotels and to ride in the most elegant cars ever created. And she deserved to be made love to, slowly and thoroughly, until she couldn’t restrain her cries, and her soft, wet body clenched around his cock in long, intense spasms…
He realized that his mind was going places his body didn’t need to go yet and forced his awareness back to the present. After all, there was more than enough to focus on in the here and now.
Seated across the table from him, Jessica was gloriously beautiful, her perfect figure poured into a midnight-blue silk dress that clung to her every curve, her long, dark hair freed from its customary ponytail and rippling in glistening waves halfway down her back. She was absolutely breathtaking, more so than any woman he’d ever seen. In a state full of glamorous movie stars and world-famous models, she sparkled in a way that set her apart.
This is the most alive I’ve felt since LeeAnne died.
The stark truth of the words he’d uttered a few days ago couldn’t be denied. He was alive again, and it was Jessica who’d brought him back to life. He’d thought his heart buried in the cold, dark ground with LeeAnne, but all at once he’d discovered that it still beat, warm and vital, in his chest.
And it belonged to Jessica.
Stop it, he told himself firmly. You’re being stupidly romantic. She’s not for you. She can’t be for you. This is just a weekend, nothing more.
And that was all right. He didn’t need forever, not really. He had a full life – a daughter he loved, the career he’d fought to build, and enough money to buy anything he really wanted. What he had with Jessica could only be a dream, a sweet imagining of what his life might have been like if he’d met her when he was younger and unencumbered by responsibilities.
For a single weekend, he’d indulge in the dream, and then…
Then he’d force himself back to drab reality.
The two of them sat on the patio of Johnson’s, watching the Gaslamp Quarter as it came alive for the evening. The first shadows of dusk had begun to darken the San Diego sky, and men in expensive suits and women in beautiful dresses swarmed everywhere, visiting the pricey shops, dining at the varied restaurants, and visiting the art galleries. Across the road, a long line was beginning to form outside the Horton Grand Theater to see the evening’s production of Hairspray.
Perhaps worried by his long silence, Jessica tried to draw her hand back, but he held on firmly. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Don’t pull away from me, Jessica.”
“It’s just…” A little crease formed on her forehead, making her look adorably wor
ried. “I know people follow you around, taking pictures. I’ve seen you on magazine covers and in the paper. And Cara – and my father—”
She didn’t mention his own father, but they both knew there wasn’t the slightest chance in hell that Donald Sanderson would be okay with the two of them holding hands. He hadn’t told her about Donald’s increasing insistence that he marries a society belle, of course, but she already knew how Donald felt about anyone beneath the Sandersons – which was pretty much everyone. He remembered how his father had rudely refused to shake her hand, and just the memory was enough to make hot rage boil up inside him. Jessica is worth ten of any social butterfly, goddammit.
“You’re probably right,” he answered, pulling his own hand away. “But I don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of you, Jessica. Don’t ever think that. I just…” He heaved a sigh. “For now, I just want us to keep complications to a minimum. All right?”
She nodded, and the little crease disappeared, lost in a warm, accepting smile.
“I understand,” she said. “And I agree. This weekend… Well, it’s just for the two of us.”
He nodded and smiled back.
“Just the two of us,” he echoed.
***
As shadowy darkness fell, the Porsche wound its way up Sunset Cliffs Boulevard, a curving road lined with expensive houses. At last the houses fell away, and only the dark, ominous shadows of trees could be seen on either side of the road. The car stopped in an empty parking lot, and Brent turned off the engine and came around to hold the door open for her.
“We’re a little late,” Brent said, taking her hand as he helped her step out, “but it’s always a beautiful view.”
She looked around. “Where are we?”
“The Sunset Cliffs. Come on.”
He tugged at her hand, and she followed just behind him. He didn’t bother to let go of her hand, because it was dark, and there were surprisingly few people around. Besides, beneath the shroud of darkness, a member of the illustrious Sanderson family looked pretty much like anyone else.