Southern Romantic-Suspense Boxed Set (Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel Book 0)

by Carmen DeSousa

  “Why did you do that?” she asked, glaring at him.

  “I thought it’s what you wanted, Ba — Caycee.” His brow lowered, and he stared at her as though her response had shocked him, as if they’d had an ongoing affair. It’d been sixteen years since she called it off. “I thought it’s what we both wanted … why I followed you to New York.” He took her hand and led her inside the apartment.

  She followed willingly; she didn’t have any fear of Ben, even if he was delusional. “Ben, it’s over; it’s been over for years. Why would you all of a sudden think you could waltz in here and declare yourself and I would accept you with open arms?”

  “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?” He appeared truly disturbed by the idea. “I see your bill every month. You eat out almost every night, so I know you aren’t seeing anyone.” He convinced himself she wasn’t as quickly as the thought had occurred to him.

  “You need to leave, Ben.” She walked back toward the door and opened it for him. He narrowed his eyes and his slim face seemed to sink in a fraction more as he clenched his jaw.

  “Don’t do this, Caycee. Give us a chance. I left her for you.”

  Caycee said nothing as she held open the door for him to leave. He took a step toward her, and she did her best to hold her ground, to not let him see the fear she felt inside. He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned away. “No, Ben, please leave.”

  He backed up with his hands raised, but gave her one final baleful stare as he stepped out of her apartment.

  She quickly locked the door, clicking the deadbolt into place. The small amount of protection made her feel slightly better. She sank to the wood floor, a torrent of tears releasing for the first time in years.

  ***

  Ben, her manager, rushed from Caycee’s building as if he were in a hurry. He glanced over his shoulder several times in anticipation, but Caycee hadn’t followed him downstairs. Ben had shown up almost an hour ago to wait for Caycee’s return, to make her his. Caycee had only returned home a few minutes ago and here Ben was … on the street.

  Evidently, things had not gone the way he’d intended. Ben was a married man; he had no business in Caycee’s apartment at this hour. The idea was infuriating. Why wasn’t he home putting forth effort into his own relationship? That was the problem with humankind from the beginning … they always wanted more than they had, more than they deserved.

  Chapter Eleven

  (Jaynee)

  Jaynee awoke with a start, the faint streaks of light peeking through the top of the curtains obviously the reason she was awake earlier than usual. She’d managed to keep the city lights at bay, but there was no stopping the rays of morning sunshine.

  After showering and dressing, she managed to leave her hotel room in less than half an hour. Amazing how much time she had when she wasn’t readying four children for the day.

  Exiting the elevator, she smelled the breakfast buffet. She hated buffets. To her, they were analogous to troughs set out before a herd. The food was typically pre-packaged, bland, and overcooked, the coffee weak and old.

  As she stepped outside the hotel doors, the humidity buffeted her as if she’d run straight into a wall. New York in September shouldn’t be this hot, especially this early in the morning. And with little breeze, the afternoon would prove to be sweltering. Regardless, she decided to walk the few blocks to the coffee shop she’d visited yesterday. There, the coffee would be bold and fresh, and hopefully, they would have muffins. She’d been eating the identical breakfast for almost twenty years and wondered briefly if Caycee still did the same.

  Sleep had escaped her for most of the evening as her mind crawled over the information it’d gathered during the day. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t turn off problems until they were resolved. She’d replay scenarios over and over until she would almost go insane. Interesting choice of words, she thought wryly. Her problem now … what to do with Caycee. She couldn’t just leave her now that she knew about her.

  Caycee had made her feel guilty last night...for the choices she’d made. Jaynee had chosen correctly, but Caycee had not, and now she wanted to step into her life. Jaynee had absolutely no interest in living in Caycee’s shoes. She couldn’t imagine any part of herself ever wanting that lifestyle, and again, couldn’t help but ponder if she were going crazy, wondering if last night had all been in her head.

  Secretly, she had mocked her mother’s decision to become an entertainer and resented her choice of career over her daughter. Not that she could have lived with her mother; her mother had lost custody of her for physical and mental abuse. The courts had awarded her mother visitation rights with supervision, and yet, her mother had chosen to see her only once when she was five.

  After that, Jaynee hadn’t seen her until she was twelve, for a week in Florida, where her mother had attempted to compensate for years of absence by taking her to Sea World and Walt Disney World. When she was fourteen, her grandmother had taken her to New York and allowed her to stay with her mom for a week. The pattern continued on her sixteenth, eighteenth, and finally twentieth birthday, which had been a disaster.

  Her mother had verbally attacked her in front of all her friends. Jaynee had gotten over the day, and they’d formed a different kind of relationship after Jordan had invited her to their wedding. They weren’t really like mother and daughter, but more like estranged sisters who were trying to form a relationship. Sad, though … now that she thought about it, Caycee felt more like a sister than her mother ever had.

  Still, as awful as their relationship had been over the years, it made little sense that Caycee had never attempted to contact her mother or any of the family, especially Gram who’d been the world to her growing up. Gram had filled every part of being a mother, and yet, Caycee had chosen to leave and never look back. It was clear that Caycee was the very worst part of her, and now she wanted what Jaynee had.

  It couldn’t be; she wouldn’t allow it. So, what then? Accept her as a sister? How would she explain the same name? Coincidence? A messed up birth certificate where the hospital had duplicated the births of twins, instead of providing two certificates. Would Jordan accept such a weak justification? He certainly wouldn’t believe the truth. Heck, she didn’t even believe the truth.

  At ten a.m., she sent Crystal a text. She had the address of where they were supposed to meet, but it would be nice if Crystal could pick her up. She wasn’t into limos and fancy cars, but she’d rather not arrive at the book signing in a taxi. Crystal agreed, promising to pick her up in an hour, which gave Jaynee additional time to sit and contemplate the predicament that had unfolded before her.

  ***

  The day had flown by, and it was now time to call Caycee. The phone rang several times before Caycee finally answered with a raspy and irritable “Yeah?”

  “Caycee?” she asked, making certain she had the correct number. “It’s me, Jaynee.”

  “Oh, hey … what time is it?”

  “It’s five o’clock … in the afternoon. Are you still sleeping?”

  “Not anymore,” Caycee grumbled, fractionally less grouchy, but still irritable. “I didn’t sleep well.”

  The same as her, of course, but she’d still managed to get out of bed at five. Caycee was worse than she’d imagined. Probably the reason she understood their father’s decision, no doubt. What would Jaynee experience if Caycee committed suicide? Were they still connected physically, she wondered. Would she feel what she felt?

  For a long time after her father’s death, she had feared for her own sanity. She’d known for years that her mother was suicidal; she’d attempted to take her life on several occasions and was now on anti-depressant therapy, even shock treatments.

  She’d almost lost it, begging her aunt to explain to her how she had a chance at being normal when both of her parents were crazy. Her aunt had admonished her, reminding her that she was her own person and that her grandmother had practically raised her. And that she emulated Gram, not her pare
nts, who for better or worse, did love her. Jaynee had appreciated her aunt’s remarks and had set out toward a better lifestyle that included God as her rock with the help of Jordan and his love.

  She cleared her thoughts and set her mind back on her newly found sister of sorts. Just what she needed, another person she’d have to worry about, as if four kids and a husband weren’t enough.

  Regardless, she wanted to see Caycee before she left. “How ’bout we meet at my hotel? There’s a nice restaurant, and since most of the guests are foreigners on vacation, we should be able to stay under the radar.”

  “And you’ll be able to call Jordan at a decent hour,” Caycee mocked.

  “Wow, you sure woke up with a rotten disposition,” Jaynee shot back. “I’ve been up since five, and I’ve worked all day without griping at anyone.”

  “Sorry, just tired,” Caycee said, sounding sincere. “I’ll get a shower and see you at six-thirty.”

  “K. See you then.”

  Jaynee called Jordan to tell him about the book signing and generally just speak with him and the kids. Not that she needed proof of their existence, as Caycee had teased last night, but she ached to speak with them. Her kids were not figments of a psychotic mind; Caycee, on the other hand, just might be. She’d have to test her theory tonight.

  “Hi, Mom!” Johanna answered. “I’m so jealous. I want to be there. Can you take me next time? That way I can check out NYU.”

  “I’m fine, Johanna. How are you?” Jaynee chuckled. “But, yes … I’ll see if we can come back as a family soon.”

  “Cool. Here, talk to Justin while I get Dad.”

  “Hi, Mom,” Justin said.

  “Hey, sweetheart. How’s school?”

  “Fine.”

  Jaynee pulled a few more one-worded answers out of him before he passed her off to Jacob. Her eldest seven-year-old pelted her with questions about her book signing. She would swear he’d read Dale Carnegie’s book, How to Win Friends and Influence People. He was a natural, but then he’d done the one thing Jordan hated worse than lying. Tattled on his twin, Jeremy, before handing the phone to him.

  “It wasn’t my fault, Mom! It was a kid named Gordon. He’s been picking on me from the first day of school,” Jeremy told her.

  “How exactly has he picked on you?” she asked her wild little momma’s boy. Jeremy hemmed and hawed, hard-pressed to come up with a credible defense. He rambled on about Gordon and then told her how much he missed her. Jaynee listened, content with the fact that she had four beautiful children. They weren’t products of her imagination.

  Jordan finally came on the line. “Jeremy and I have a lot in common, you know.”

  Jaynee laughed. “Since when?”

  “If you’re not home soon, I might get in trouble with the bullies, Bobby and John, at work who pick on me because I’m lost when my wife is away,” he admitted.

  “I’ll be home soon, and you know how much fun we have after I’ve been away.”

  “Oh, believe me … that’s what carries me through the nights without ya.”

  “Have fun with the kids tonight. I’ll call you before I go to bed.”

  “Will do. Love you. Be safe,” he entreated.

  “Always. I love you, Jordan. Talk to you soon.” She hung up quickly before she could get too emotional, hating that she felt as if she were lying to him. She hadn’t kept a secret from him in thirteen years, and it was killing her.

  The hotel restaurant reminded her of almost every hotel dining room she’d ever visited. It was large enough to accommodate conventions or weddings, but management cordoned off most sections since it was off-season, and the hotel was probably not even remotely at capacity.

  A small nightclub sat off to the right of the restaurant, which had a few businessmen seated around the bar for happy hour. A small dance floor, a DJ’s booth, and a grand piano were located at the opposite end of the long narrow room. In season, the hotel probably hosted theme nights for guests who wanted to party but also preferred to stumble back to their rooms afterward.

  Jaynee made her way to the hostess’ booth. The young woman studied her minutely, but said nothing as if in shock. Figures she’d run into a fan at this discreet little restaurant. Question was … was she a fan of Caycee Jayne pop star or author Jaynee Jordan? Based on her age, Jaynee assumed Caycee.

  Jaynee smiled gently, an attempt to make the woman comfortable. “A table for two … my sister will be here in a few minutes; you won’t be able to miss her.”

  “Are you …” the woman started, but couldn’t form the words. Certainly, she had to be accustomed to meeting celebrities in New York; she must be a really big fan.

  “Caycee,” Jaynee offered.

  The woman’s head bobbed quickly, her face lighting up with excitement.

  “No, I’m not,” she said, noticing the woman’s shoulders slumped, and her eyes instantly drooped. “Caycee is my sister, but please don’t tell anyone else, and I will make sure she gives you a personalized autograph.” Well, that would be her test, she thought. If the woman saw two of them, she’d know for sure.

  Maybe … but then again, who knew? She could still be in her hotel room, typing out a scene for her next romantic thriller. She’d always had a vivid imagination. Jordan would often come home to her talking to herself as she worked out a scene or the time she’d had him wrap duct tape around her hands to see if she could get out of it, which she’d been able. She’d found over the years — with Jordan’s help, of course — that zip ties were the best way to restrain a captive or bad guy. Though, in a pinch, a regular belt worked too. She’d also used her kids as guinea pigs for her scenes.

  The woman snatched up her keys from inside her stand, breaking Jaynee from her thoughts. “Cool, I have her CD in the car. I’ll grab it on my break. Do you think she’ll sign it for me?”

  “I’ll make sure she does. Now, how ’bout that table? And remember, don’t tell anyone.” Jaynee winked at her. The girl would comply; she was obviously a big fan.

  Caycee arrived a few minutes later, apparently not surprised when the hostess hurried across the floor to greet her and quickly escorted her to their table without a word. She plopped onto the cushioned booth, exhaling loudly. “So … how was your day?”

  Jaynee halfway smiled, too anxious for Caycee’s approach to amuse her. “It was fine. You owe the hostess an autograph. Her eyes almost popped out when she saw me.”

  “How come you didn’t just oblige her?” Caycee said, flashing a sly smile.

  “Because, I’m not you, Caycee, nor do I want to be.”

  Caycee’s smile fell flat. “So that’s it, then. You thought about my proposal and aren’t interested.” she said, her voice turning sour.

  Jaynee busied herself with polishing a stain off her silverware. “Yes. I see no benefit in stepping into your life. I made my choice and you made yours.”

  Caycee leaned forward, drilling her gaze directly into hers. “Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re me, so you made this choice too.” Caycee’s tone had a bitter edge, as if she’d thought about her defense all night. “I’m just the part of you who made it, but I’m still you. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be concerned in knowing what my other choice was, and if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here, because I wouldn’t exist. But I do exist, so therefore you’re interested in my life.” She leaned back in the booth as though proud of herself for that well thought out monologue.

  A fresh wave of panic shattered her brief sense of confidence. Her other half, clearly her vicious half, was trying to manipulate her. A therapist would have a field day with the two of them.

  She took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Regardless, the answer is still no.”

  Caycee studied her for a couple of seconds, and Jaynee would swear that she could see the gears turning behind her hazel eyes. She opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. “Fine,” she mumbled. “We can still be friends though, right?”

  Caycee was peacemak
ing now, appearing to be apologetic and cooperative. Had she taken acting classes as well? Was this a maneuver to get Jaynee to let down her guard?

  Instead of arguing, Jaynee changed the subject. “Let’s eat. We can discuss possibilities later.”

  ***

  Dinner was pleasant. Caycee made a point of asking Jaynee about her day, about her book signing. She was behaving uncharacteristically altruistic, and it concerned Jaynee. As her supposed other half, she should know exactly what she was thinking, but it didn’t seem to work that way. It felt like Superman fighting his evil twin. Who would win if they were equal?

  This wasn’t a fight, but she still had to be careful. Caycee had nothing to lose, it seemed. She could make her life difficult if she so desired. She could introduce herself to Jordan, which wouldn’t be so bad, but she could also tell Jordan about the things she hadn’t told him.

  Would she do it? Would Caycee risk a possible friendship with her by doing such a thing? Maybe … if she refused to be friends with her. But how would their friendship work? She couldn’t keep returning to New York; Jordan would hate that. The only way would be to tell Jordan about her. Maybe bring her home. No, that wouldn’t work. Jordan would assume she was scamming them. He’d run a background check … wondering how she’d never known that she had a twin sister.

  ***

  After dinner, they made their way back to her hotel room again.

  Caycee stretched out her legs on the sofa. “Hey, do you have your book?”

  Jaynee kicked off her pumps and slipped into her Crocs before turning to her. “My new one … no, I just started.”

  “Your first one … the one I assume you finished that we started in college.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she laughed and shook her head. “You know, it really is disconcerting having someone know practically everything about you.” She stepped over to the desk and booted up the computer, waited as it warmed up, and then entered her password. When the desktop finished its system check, she scanned the documents, found the one she was looking for, and double-clicked on the file. It prompted her for her password, which she quickly entered. The document sprang to life, just as she’d left it almost thirteen years earlier. She always carried the original file in case she wanted to look up a sentence, reread how she’d worded something.