Love, Lies, & the D.A.
By Rebecca Rohman
Jada McLean is about to get married in nine days, when she walks in on her fiancé in a little more than a compromising position. Days later, she’s on a trip that she intends to be relaxing and a prelude to her fresh start, when she runs into the rude, obnoxious, but gorgeous Jonathan Kole.
Jonathan Kole is San Francisco’s newest District Attorney. When he finds himself deeply attracted to a stunning beauty, he has no idea that she’s about to get into BIG trouble with the law—and he’ll be the one presiding over her trial. To make matters worse, his father is the lawyer representing her in the high-profile case.
When a series of events force them together over New Year’s weekend, Jonathan’s feelings and ethics will come into question, while Jada comes to terms with the fact that she is falling for the man that will be responsible for attempting to put her behind bars… Little do they know, they're both about to fall into a whirlwind so deep, it will send both their lives spiraling out of control.
Love, Lies & The D.A.
Copyright © 2014 by Rebecca Rohman.
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This book is fictional. The names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. Cited
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Rebecca Rohman is a wife and designer currently living in the Northeastern United States. She was a Sales Manager for a tourist magazine, and for many years prior, she was first involved in marketing for a jewelry company, and later for a fine wine distributor.
About fifteen years ago, she started writing her first romance novel, Uncorked, just to purely entertain herself. It was not until early in 2012 when she decided to complete it and share it with the world. The story was published in February of 2013. Love, Lies & The D.A. is her second novel.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
To My Husband & My Family: Thank you all for your continuous love and support, especially Hubby, Mommy, and Little Sis. Your support through this process has been remarkable and one I could never thank you enough for.
Bernard: You are the support I know I always have.
Lenora & Fred: Thank you for your friendship, assistance, and continuous encouragement.
To My Beta Readers - Lio, Nevena, Jonel & Sabrina: Thank you for your input, time, and valuable contribution. I appreciate you all.
Laura: My success is your success. I will forever be grateful to you for all that you’ve taught me. No words will ever describe how important you are to me.
Adelaide, my editor: Thank you for your commitment, thoroughness, and hard work on this book. I am particularly thankful to you for helping me see this project through during the busiest season of the year; you were truly a blessing this Christmas.
Chapter 1
I am dying with excitement; I’ve just picked up my wedding dress, and it fits to perfection. In just over one week from now, I, Jada McLean, will become Mrs. Richard Preston. Our intimate wedding will be at a beautiful resort overlooking San Francisco’s North Coast in exactly nine days from today.
It’s early fall, and there’s a beautiful tinge of an orange glow everywhere. As I refine the details for the wonderful day to come, I can’t help but think how much I’ll miss Dad. That said, Mom arrives from St. Lucia late this evening. I can’t wait to see her.
The sound of my cell phone interrupts my happy thoughts. It’s Solace, my assistant.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Hi, Jada. Your mom called to say that there has been a delay and you should call her. She won’t be in until the day after tomorrow.”
“Why didn’t she call me?”
“She said—”
“You know what, don’t bother. I’ll call her. And since I don’t have to pick her up, I think I’ll head home early today. I have some last minute wedding details to iron out.”
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of my high-rise San Francisco condo.
Strange, Richard is here. I thought he told me he’d be in a meeting until six this evening.
Either way, I’m dying to see him. He came in from a weeklong business trip early this morning, and because I had a meeting, I wasn’t able to see him. Mommy and I were supposed to meet him for dinner after I picked her up.
My private elevator arrives at what is soon to be our penthouse, and suddenly, I feel strange. Goose bumps cover my body, and I wonder if it is because I realize that, in a matter of days, we will become one and share everything. He will be moving in with me, I will be spending our Christmases at his Utah chalet, and the list goes on.
I carefully lay my gown over the back of the contemporary white sofa. I can hear his voice. It comes from my office. I quietly tiptoe towards the room, eager to surprise him. However, as I move closer, I realize I hear two voices instead of one, and the nearer I get, those voices turn to groans and moans.
I step into the doorway, and there he is, my fiancé, fucking my maid-of-honor—the woman I’ve called my best friend for fifteen years. I’m in shock. I freeze in place, and I can’t seem to find my words. It feels like I’ve been standing here for hours, and he still has her bent over my desk, both too busy to notice my presence.
I don’t know if I will ever get the sights and sounds of what I am witnessing out of my system. Soon, I realize tears are streaming down my face. I clear my throat and attempt to find my voice.
“Both of you. Get the fuck out of my house,” I’m finally able to say.
They both suddenly look up at me, frozen in their sexual positions.
“It looks like you’ve been caught red-handed. Now just get out,” I say, rather quietly I might add. I’m devastated.
I observe their frantic attempts to hurriedly pull themselves together.
“Jada. Honey—” Richard starts his plea.
Koto hastily tries to slip on her red thong while hopping on her red platform heels. Richard rapidly pulls up his underwear. Then I notice the strangest thing—he’s fucking her on my desk, and he’s not even wearing a condom. It’s more than I can take.
“Don’t honey me!” I scream. “I don’t want to
hear it—from either of you. Now get out!”
In a moment of pure rage, I pick up a vase of orchids on a nearby side table, and I throw it straight at them. They both move out of the way as it explodes on the wall. Glass, water, and flowers scatter around my office.
How many times has he done this? How many times have they done this?
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I can hear Koto’s crocodile tears. She’s telling me how sorry she is. I don’t know why, but I walk out of the room to the kitchen island, pick up my cell phone, and call Solace.
“Hi, Jada. What can I do for you?”
“Call my gynecologist and make an appointment for me to see her first thing tomorrow. Tell her it’s urgent.”
“Is that all?” Solace asks politely.
“No. Get your notepad out. I need you—”
“Jada,” Richard says, resting his hands on my shoulder. “We have to talk about this.”
I don’t know where it comes from, but as if I was floating on air, I find myself swinging my palm backward then lunging my hand forward, and I feel my hand hitting his face. Before I know it, I am screaming.
“Don’t touch me! Get-the-fuck-out-of-my-house. Both of you. Or I will call security up here and have you both thrown out.”
I turn my back and continue with my phone conversation. My palm stings.
“Solace, are you still there?”
“Yes. Jada, are you alright?”
“No, Solace. I’m not. I need you to send out an email to all the wedding guests. Use the same template as a press release. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“I am sorry to announce that my engagement to Richard Preston and our wedding, which was due to take place one week from Saturday, is officially cancelled. At this time, I ask that you all respect my privacy, as I would prefer to be alone during this difficult period. Thank you. Jada McLean.”
“Jada. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. Please call Netjet and tell them I’ll be leaving here tomorrow afternoon. I’ll let them know where I’ll be going in the morning. Cancel all my appointments for the next two weeks. Tell Ian, as of tomorrow, he will be running Bleu Resorts. I need to have a conference call with him in ten minutes.”
“Jada, I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. If anyone calls for an interview, give them a copy of my press release, and tell them I will be unavailable indefinitely. Don’t schedule any appointments for me until I return. Tomorrow afternoon, I will need you to get rid of some things, and I have some stuff I’ll need you to handle during my absence. I will email you the list and leave the info at my concierge.”
“How do you want me to get rid of them?”
“Don’t worry. The list will have all the details.”
“Is that all?”
“For now, yes. Tell Ian I’ll be waiting for his call.”
I end the call, and when I turn around, I’m surprised to see Richard still standing there.
“Jada, I’m sorry.”
“Here’s your ring,” I reply, pulling the 5-carat diamond ring off my finger then handing it to him. “And your keys…” I say after digging for them in my purse. “Now for the last time, get the fuck out of my house.”
He remains in place. I don’t know if he’s being arrogant or he doesn’t believe I’m going to call security. He doesn’t leave.
With my phone in my hand, I walk past him and to my bedroom. When I realize he’s following me, I quickly shut the door in his face and lock it.
“Jada, please…” he says through the door.
“You and I are finished. It’s over. Now get out. I have nothing left to say to you.”
“Jada…”
I ignore his calls. From there, I call security. Minutes later, through the door, I can hear voices. Three guards, I think. Moments after, the ping from the elevator, then—silence.
Staring in silence at the San Francisco Bay view, my phone rings—it’s Ian. We discuss what will need to be done during my absence for over an hour. I end the call. Then I prepare myself for perhaps what might be the most difficult call I’ll ever have to make. I take a deep breath, I dial the number, and I wait. I know this will disappoint her.
“Jada. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”
“Sorry, Mommy. It’s been a crazy day. I got your message.”
“Sweetie, I’m so sorry, but the flight was overbooked and—”
“Don’t bother to come. The wedding is off.”
“What! Why?”
For the first time since walking in on my fiancé and my best friend having sex on the desk in my condo, I feel intense sadness.
My throat tightens. “I walked in on Richard and Koto having sex this afternoon.”
“Oh Jesus, no… Sweetie, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” I whisper.
“I’m still coming, Jada. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I need to be alone. Don’t come. If you do, I won’t be here.”
“Jada, please let me be there for you. This is the same thing you did after Daddy died.”
“And I managed fine. Now, I promise I’ll stay in touch. Remember to check your email.”
“I love you, Sweetie.”
“I love you too.”
After I end the call, I make a list of things I will need to have Solace handle as soon as I leave.
· Change all locks and security codes at penthouse.
· Call lawyers—have them cancel all shares of Bleu Resorts that were due to be transferred to Richard Preston on Monday, September 30, 2013.
· Call interior designer—Zoë Jenkins.
· Redecorate the entire penthouse—everything in white, blue accents.
· Cancel the wedding with the venue. Have them charge any fees necessary to the card on file.
· Close joint bank account between Richard Preston and Jada McLean.
· Mail a check for whatever the balance is on the account after all wedding expenses are paid to Richard Preston.
· Sell my wedding dress and accessories if it’s not possible to return it.
· Return all wedding gifts. (Please include a letter of apology.)
· Put personal effects in storage while penthouse undergoes renovation.
· Return personal effects once renovation is complete.
· Sell all gifts from Richard Preston. See box on kitchen counter. Give the proceeds to charity.
· Set up an auto mail responder saying I’m unavailable and Ian Holmes is in charge during my absence.
Once complete, I email the list to Solace.
What next? I should pack. Where should I go?
At first, I thought I’d go out of the country. Now, I wonder. The California mountains must be stunning this time of year. Maybe I should take a cool drive. Somewhere beautiful. I go in search of my laptop and boot it up. Moments later, I Google—beautiful California destinations. Half an hour later, I decide to pack some things. Tonight, after the traffic dies down, I will take a nice drive to Lake Tahoe. It will be my first trip there.
Then I remember I need to visit the doctor. I scroll through the numbers in my phone.
There it is… Dr. Selena Torrez.
I call. After explaining to her that it’s urgent that I see her, she tells me to come in immediately. Glancing at my watch, it’s nearly five. I rush through traffic, and remarkably, I’m at her office in less than twenty minutes.
“Jada, so nice to see you. Have a seat, please.”
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” I reply.
“Congratulations. You must be so excited. I saw your wedding announcement in the Chronicle.”
“I was excited. However, that all ended this afternoon when I walked in on my fiancé and my best friend having sex in my condo.”
I astound myself. It’s shocking that I can say this with absolutely no emotion in my voice to a woman I’ve known since I moved to the US sixteen years ago.
“And to
top it off, he wasn’t even wearing a condom.”
Dr. Torrez gasps, looking at me in utter disdain. “Jada. I am so sorry. Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine. I need you to please have me tested for every sexually transmitted disease there is under the sun.”
“You realize the way you’re handling this is not normal?”
“Dr. Torrez, with all due respect, I’m not here to discuss my emotional state. Just test me to ensure that I am physically healthy and I have not gotten any diseases from that asshole.”
“That’s better,” she replies, her lips attempting to curve into a smile.
Within half an hour, after she tries to convince me to seek some counseling, I leave her office and head back to the penthouse. As I drive by the building, at least ten reporters gather in the front.
So much for respecting my privacy…
I return to the penthouse in time to finish packing. Then I take a shower. After I dress, I call the concierge and ask them to send someone up to take my bags. I leave some things on the kitchen counter for Solace, and at precisely eight o’clock, I start on my journey to Lake Tahoe. I should arrive in three-and-a-half hours.
As I leave, I remember I asked Solace to call Netjet and Dr. Torrez to set up appointments. I have her cancel then I plug in my iPod and off I go.
The problem with driving alone for three-and-a-half hours is that it gives you plenty of time to think. Forty-five minutes into my drive, somewhere around Fairfield, I start to remember what I witnessed this afternoon.
Koto had been my best friend since I moved from St. Lucia. I remember my very first day in college as a foreign student studying business and hospitality at UCLA. We had our first marketing management class together, and we met for the first time when we sat next to each other. We’d been inseparable since then. Never in a million years did I ever think she’d sleep with my boyfriend, let alone my fiancé that I was due to marry in a week.
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