TJ traced Jess’s lips with her finger. They were rosier and slightly fuller than usual, gently bruised from their lovemaking. It was incredibly sexy watching Jess’s tongue snake out to take TJ’s fingers into her mouth and feeling the warm wetness envelop them. “Mmm. I could get used to this mouth.”
Once Jess had relinquished TJ’s digits, she said, “I wish you could too,” a little too melancholic for TJ’s taste.
TJ took Jess’s hand and kissed her palm. “I intend to.”
Jess shifted her hand to cup TJ’s face. She smiled in a way that appeared more sad than happy, as if she were trying to be strong in the face of receiving bad news from the internist. She appeared to be on the edge of saying something important when her eyes misted, and she held back.
Uncertain of what to make of Jess’s reaction, TJ shifted until Jess was on her back, with TJ covering her. “Hey,” TJ said. “Talk to me.” A tear slid out of the corner of Jess’s eye and TJ wiped it with her thumb. “Baby, please.”
But Jess only shook her head slightly. “You make me happy.”
TJ snorted and wiped away another tear. “I can tell,” she said incredulously.
“You do. But you can make me happier,” Jess said, planting a brief kiss on TJ’s lips.
“Anything,” TJ said and meant it.
“Make love to me,” Jess whispered.
The entreaty melted away the last vestige of TJ’s resolve to get Jess to open up. They could address whatever was plaguing her tomorrow. Right now Jess needed TJ to help her forget, and TJ couldn’t deny her any more than she could cease breathing.
*
Jess awoke just after four in the morning. She was spooning TJ, one arm draped over her like a rabbit ear. Her nose was pressed close to the back of TJ’s neck, and Jess could detect the faint smell of her shampoo. The scents of sex and sweat had faded, though the pleasant soreness of certain under-utilized muscles provided ample reminder of how she’d spent the night. Nuzzling TJ as delicately as a cotton ball so as not to wake her, Jess took time to enjoy the sheer pleasure of waking up to the woman she loved. How bittersweet it would be the last time she’d have the opportunity.
Extricating herself slowly from TJ, Jess crept to the closet and closed the door behind her before feeling for the light switch. She scanned the room’s contents and grabbed a gray sweatshirt and sweat pants. Perhaps it was a little stalkerish, but she wanted to have something of TJ’s against her skin, not clothing that had been purchased with stolen funds. She told herself she’d return them one day. Borrowing a bra or panties wasn’t in the offing as she was curvier than TJ. Newly outfitted, she exited the closet and picked up her coat and boots. The floor creaked when she bent over, and TJ stirred. Jess froze. She didn’t want to leave this way but had no choice. Saying good-bye forever after everything they’d shared was heartbreaking, but being together after what Jess was about to do was impossible.
After several minutes passed with no movement from TJ, Jess took her leave and left her heart behind.
Chapter Twenty-six
Jess’s phone buzzed and she picked it up. Dillon was out front. She swiped the application to open the gate.
She surveyed the entryway. Her two suitcases and boxes were packed. Her used cosmetics weren’t worth anything to anyone else and were easily justified. The shoes and clothing were in impeccable condition. She rationalized taking them because she’d be facing tremendous public scrutiny, and she wanted Magnate’s fleeced investors to see she understood the magnitude of the scam. That meant looking and acting the part of a credible witness. After her father was imprisoned, Jess would donate what little she was taking of her wardrobe. She’d borrow money from Dillon for replacements and figure out how to repay him. The two boxes contained personal items: gifts from friends and relatives, photographs, mementos from various trips she’d taken, books, and journals. Their monetary value was insignificant, but they meant something to Jess—even pictures of her father. Having debated whether to leave them behind—some of her favorites over the years were of the two of them together, snapshots capturing real smiles—she decided to pack them. She wasn’t in the proper state of mind to make decisions as to whether irreplaceable keepsakes had any part in her future.
Once her father had admitted to the scheme, Jess had stopped seeing her house as hers. It was as much hers as a seat on a train, and she didn’t have money for the fare. The extravagant surroundings became harsh to behold, as if she’d removed dark sunglasses from high atop a snowy mountain on a sunny day. The painstaking details created by the laborers, artists, and other craftsmen who’d built the guest home were like a mouthful of decayed teeth whose exposed nerves brought constant agony. Those details reminded Jess of the intricacies of her father’s crime and made her feel filthy.
The doorbell rang and Jess opened the door. Dillon held out his arms and Jess sank into his embrace. During her earlier phone call, she’d been so upset he’d had difficulty making out her ragged sentences, but she’d managed to convey enough information to get him to drop everything and come for her. When she pulled back enough to look at him, she swiped at another tear, her constant companions of late. “I’m so sick of crying,” Jess said with a pathetic laugh.
He smiled and brushed away a tear with a knuckle. “What can I do?”
“Being here for me is all I need.” She picked up one of the boxes. “Could you grab one of the suitcases?”
Dillon took both suitcases and followed Jess out to his car. As he stowed the items, Jess returned for the last box. She peered around the grand entrance one last time and heard Dillon on the stairs. He pulled the box from her hands. “Is that everything?” She snatched her purse and phone from the side table, along with her laptop bag. Once she had time to save her files and erase the drive, she’d ship it back to the house for the U.S. Marshals or whoever to deal with. Dillon would have one she could borrow. And she intended to get a prepaid phone with the money Dillon would lend her.
Jess scrolled through the phone settings and selected the factory-reset option. The relief that she was taking steps to have TJ be rid of her once and for all replaced the guilt she’d first felt from not returning TJ’s calls or texts. All Jess could ever be to TJ now was a disheartening reminder of everything her family had taken from TJ—and from scores of others. She turned it off and laid it next to her keys, as she wouldn’t be needing the cars or house any longer. The heavy gold medallion with the Magnate logo that anchored her key ring might as well have been a lump of coal, so lost was its luster in her eyes. Once so proud to carry it, she left it behind with disdain. It wasn’t real gold—wasn’t meant to be—and the ersatz metal would only remind her that everything about Magnate was counterfeit.
Once in Dillon’s truck, he said, “Bank, then my shop, then my shack?”
She nodded. During their earlier call, she’d blathered on about needing to leave everything behind. Dillon had immediately offered her his fishing shack and one of his repos. “Fishing” and “shack” were both misnomers. The only fish Dillon caught were red Swedish candies, and the structure was a spacious cabin filled with Dillon-type toys. It was his man cave. It had a wet bar, flat-screen TV with surround sound, Wi-Fi, gaming consoles, recliners, a poker table, electric guitars, an amplifier, and a dartboard. It also had a bedroom and full kitchen. Out back was a shed in which he kept two dirt bikes and two kayaks.
The cabin was on three acres an hour from town and would provide a good respite from the media circus Jess was about to enter.
*
TJ was dragging this morning. Two days ago she’d awoken to an empty bed with no note of explanation after the most intimate evening she’d ever shared. Her texts and voice mails had gone unanswered, and she was worried. Jess had been distracted leading up to their night together and showed signs of carrying a heavy burden. Even the clothing—or lack thereof—she’d worn was very un-Jess-like. Always well put together, Jess had arrived without makeup, clothing, or having styled her hair. Almos
t disheveled. And her arrival itself seemed way off, almost desperate.
Having spent the weekend berating herself for caving in to her physical desire for Jess instead of urging her to discuss what was bothering her, and unable to get in touch, TJ was emotionally exhausted. It was akin to going door-to-door with lost-pet flyers in hand, searching for your beloved companion, only to return home empty-handed. Her heart felt heavy.
In an unprecedented move, Gary had swung by her desk and asked to speak with her. Though he usually seemed fairly clueless and rarely spent time on TJ’s side of the office, TJ couldn’t help wondering whether he’d noticed her flagging energy and was about to call her out on it. He was right to do so. She needed to get her head back into the game and find some answers for her case study.
Once they were seated in Gary’s office, he didn’t dawdle. “There’s no easy way for me to say this, TJ, so I’m going to come right out with it. You’re fired. If you sign the separation agreement, you’ll be entitled to up to six months of COBRA reimbursement.”
TJ’s ears began to ring, drowning out most of his additional words regarding the termination paperwork and the return of the building security card and laptop. Although California was an at-will state in which employers weren’t required to justify their actions with good cause or provide advance notice, it was a baffling turn of events. The only person within Magnate with whom she’d interacted regularly was Jess, and TJ could see no reason for Jess to let her go. Surely something else was at play here?
Deciding an argument wasn’t in her best interest, TJ did her utmost to pretend she was listening to his words and understanding the documents she was signing. But when he asked if she had any questions, she took the opportunity. “May I ask whose decision this was?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Your immediate supervisor, of course. Jess.”
Blindsided.
That was the only word for TJ’s reaction. It was like being hit by an Amtrak train while sitting in the stands of a football stadium—she never saw it coming. Jess had her fired?
TJ vaguely followed Gary’s well-wishes that were incongruent with the rest of his message, took her personal belongings, and left the Magnate offices. As she drove home, she contemplated dropping by Jess’s loft unannounced. She needed answers.
Was TJ’s imminent firing the issue plaguing Jess these past few days? If so, why hadn’t Jess discussed it with her? Jess had proved a good mentor, imparting knowledge and providing direction when TJ was stuck. Why then would she cease doing so? Did TJ’s difficulties in understanding how the Magnate Fund operated change Jess’s mind about her ability to succeed in the internship? Were TJ’s questions about the fund coming across as her not being grateful for the immense opportunity of working for the man responsible for her graduate program? If so, why hadn’t Jess come straight out and told her? Why pretend she’d look into TJ’s questions if she had no intention of doing so?
No longer safe behind the wheel because of the tears welling in her eyes, TJ pulled over to get control over her emotions. On top of Jess’s silence, she was like a boxer who’d been hit with a one-two punch that left her dazed and struggling to stay upright.
She’d gladly leave the internship if she and Jess could be together. Hell, she’d gladly leave the program if that were the case. But Jess seemed to be sending a message, and TJ didn’t need a graduate degree to understand it.
TJ hadn’t paid much attention to where she’d stopped the truck, but now she took in her surroundings. She was on a stretch of two-lane road that ran along a small river. On one side of the road lay commercial buildings. On the other side, beyond the water, old houses dotted a wide stretch of grassland. As she retrieved a tissue to blow her nose, TJ saw a house cat jump from its hiding place beneath the tall grass in an attempt to capture a white butterfly. The obviously well-fed animal wasn’t attacking the insect for food. It was doing so for entertainment, for the thrill of the chase.
TJ watched the hunt for several minutes, silently rooting for the butterfly. Its haphazard flight pattern was beautiful in its randomness, darting and dropping as if purposely snubbing the laws of order. But this movement seemed only to fuel the cat’s appetite for the capture and kill. Its front legs whipped about in a frenzy, trying to snare the tiny flitting wings. In an incredibly acrobatic move, the cat jumped high, stretched its paw, and snagged a wing with a claw. TJ lost sight of the butterfly once the cat brought it to the ground. The feline briefly monitored the insect’s remnants before its preoccupation ebbed and it headed toward the river.
Her scathing inner self-critic asked whether she’d just witnessed a parody of her relationship with Jess, where as soon as the pampered princess captured the thing she was after, she lost interest.
Defeated, keeping control of her emotions with only the strength of a butterfly’s wings, TJ headed home.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Something bopped TJ on the shoulder. Startled, she noticed an object rolling on the floor and watched it come to a stop. A grape. She’d been attempting to read a book on effective leadership, but her brain was retaining information like a sieve. The only thing she could effectively lead right now was the line for unemployment benefits.
“Sorry, I don’t have any bread crumbs,” Kara said from inside the doorway, setting down her backpack and holding a plastic baggie half full of grapes. “You’re so lost in thought you can use these to find your way back,” she said as she dropped the bag into TJ’s lap en route to the kitchen, scooping up the grape as she passed. “You’ve got it baaaaad.”
TJ heard the fridge door open and close before Kara plopped next to her on the couch with a glass of milk in hand. “You’re home late,” TJ said, setting the book in her lap.
Kara took a drink and nodded. “I texted you. Four times.” She reached for TJ’s phone and opened her messaging app. “All unread.” She showed TJ the screen before setting it down. “Office hours with Mrs. Janikowski and then study group. Remember? Or are you so whipped you can’t—what’s wrong?”
TJ rubbed her face. “What isn’t?”
“You didn’t break up again, did you?” Kara asked with alarm.
“I was fired today.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“Fuck,” Kara said before immediately covering her mouth. “Sorry.”
This was as good a time as any to let it slide. TJ nodded. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
“Why?”
“Wish I knew.”
“What does Jess say about it?”
“I haven’t seen or talked to her, but the decision was apparently hers.”
“She must have had a reason.”
“Thanks,” TJ said dryly.
Kara set down her glass and crossed her arms. “That’s not what I mean. You’re the most capable person I know. Something’s up.”
TJ tossed her book onto the coffee table. “Something like she’s a coward who refuses to return my calls and doesn’t have the guts to fire me herself?”
“You don’t know that.”
“Maybe if we’d had a fight or something…I don’t know.” TJ shook her head.
“She wouldn’t fire you over something personal.”
“You have no idea what she’d fire me over,” TJ said sharply.
“What if Mom and Dad worked together and Dad fired Mom? You think she’d go, ‘What a Class A’? No. She’d be like, he must’ve had crappy choices and chose the least bad.”
“I don’t look to Mom for lessons in how to think or act.”
Kara scooped up her backpack and glared. “Good thing you don’t, because you know what? Jess deserves better.” The bedroom door thudded closed.
I’m the one to lose my job without explanation, and Jess is the one Kara defends? Could this day get any better? On the bright side, Kara hadn’t shrugged once during their brief conversation. That was a plus, wasn’t it?
*
Flying bugs buzzed past J
ess as she sat on the small dock down the path from the shack. The lake was as quiet and still as bathwater. Birds occasionally darted by, but as it wasn’t the time of the evening for their choir practice, they were silent among the trees. Traffic noise was blissfully absent.
Jess took a sip of hot cocoa, trying to enjoy the placid surroundings that were so different from the hustle and bustle of the FBI office she’d spent the morning in. She’d sat in an uncomfortable worn, gray chair for hours, under old fluorescent lights that seemed designed to sap energy. The agents were professional and courteous. After two hours, one had been kind enough to fetch her real coffee from a nearby café, apologizing for the sludge they’d initially offered and apparently routinely drank themselves. Its color and consistency had seemed more apt to be pulled from a car hose at Dillon’s shop than suited for drinking, and Jess was grateful for the kindness.
Although she hadn’t brought any records with her, she’d gone into great detail about what she’d found. To her, the most important fact was Derrick’s confession, but given she’d sifted through a vast array of files herself, she informed them of everything she’d come across and the conclusions she’d reached. She’d wished she knew unequivocally whether Brooke, Gary, and even Lilith were innocent, but she’d only been able to relay what Derrick had told her.
Able to remain impassive throughout the questioning, she had let her emotions get away from her only once. The agent had asked Jess to confirm the date she first became aware of the fraud. That it had been so recent—mere days ago—was a guilt she’d have to live with for the rest of her life. Had she been less pliable to Lilith’s demands regarding “her place,” more curious to understand the complexities of the business instead of meekly accepting things at face value, more dubious about the long-running consistency of Magnate’s returns, less acquiescent of her father’s choice of Gary over Brooke or her or virtually anyone else as COO—God, if she’d been anything other than a spoiled rich kid who never really demanded to leave the nest and make her own way in this world—she might have been able to stop it before it ravaged so many people’s lives.
For Money or Love Page 29