Meatball Taster Publishing, llc
Jaded
A novella by Andrea Smith
Book #1 in the WTF? Series
6/4/2015
This book contains erotic scenes and is for readers over 18 years of age.
Copyright © 2014 by Andrea Smith
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. Except as permitted, under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author.
Violation of copyright, by domestic or foreign entities, is punishable by law, which may include imprisonment, a fine, or both.
This book is intended for mature audiences only.
ISBN-13: 978-0-9904522-4-9 (E-Book)
Acknowledgements
Thanks to S.K. Logdson, Kennedy Kelly and Eva LeNoir for Beta-Reading and providing awesome input for this story! Thanks as always to every member of my fan group, my publicists - Christine Stanley and Ms. Kelley Kell, you rock! Tracy, Janett, Catherine - you girls are relentless with your help and support through the signings, the promoting and pimping!! I love you all! And also my fellow authors who have done their best to make this anthology a success - you all are totally awesome ladies! And my lovely Ashley who also edited the additional pages – I’m sorry that you wanted more!!
Editing: Mark Lucas/Ashley Blaschak
Formatting: Erik Gevers
Cover: Yours truly!
Table of Contents
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Frederick E. Hook, my son's father who lost his long and courageous battle with non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma on February 6, 2000.
As a third generation career firefighter with the Springfield (Ohio) Fire Department, Fred received recognition for bravery and courage in the line of duty during his career.
Fred's unit was the first responder in August of 1984 to the general alarm fire that burned for several days at the deserted Kelsey-Hayes plant in Springfield, Ohio. This fire was coined as 'The Big Fire' by both police and fire fighters and is still known by that today.
The fire was believed to have been an act of arson, although authorities could never prove it due to the high presence of combustible items being stored at the facility in 55-gallon drums. Known toxins such as PCB oil from transformers, industrial solvents, thinners, waste oil, and capacitors, were among the items illegally stored there. The sprinkler system had been disabled.
Exposure to toxic chemicals in a combusted atmosphere such as this general alarm fire produced can have an incubation period of somewhere between six months and forty years according to NIH (National Institutes of Health).
Many firefighters other than Fred who fought this fire were stricken with illnesses ranging from Hodgkin's Disease, Glioblastoma Multiforme, Testicular Cancer, Pituitary Cancer, Ocular Cancer, Kidney Cancer and more; what is more is that these death-producing illnesses weren't restricted to firefighters alone. Many of the police officers on duty during the duration of the fire have also been stricken with rare lymphomas and leukemia.
It is with great honor that I will contribute my portion of the proceeds from this anthology to help those with leukemia and lymphoma.
Playlist for Jaded
Raspberry Beret Prince
Owner of a Lonely Heart Yes
All I Wanna Do Heart
Don't Say Goodnight Hot Chelle Rae
Tonight Tonight Hot Chelle Rae
Prologue
My name is Jade and I'm pretty sure that you're not going to like me. In fact, I'd bet the rent on it, except that well . . . I don't pay rent, you see. Someone else does that for me.
His name is Hayden Barringer II.
Does that name ring a bell?
If you're from the East Coast it might, provided you shop for men's couture. Barringer's is the most exclusive carrier of men's fine clothing, with stores in New York City, Philadelphia, Boston, Atlanta New Orleans and Miami.
Hayden is the older of two sons, thus the Roman numeral two after his name. Hayden Barringer, the first, is now retired and living the good life in Miami with his wife and his millions.
With me so far?
Good.
Now, let's get to the part where you're going to judge me. And you very well might have legitimate reasons to do so.
Hayden is forty-four years old, rich, handsome and totally . . . married. He has three children, lives in the affluent Chestnut Hill section of Boston, and has an exquisite wife from another prominent New England family.
They attend every social event of the season, Christmas being an especially busy time of the year for those. Their children attend the very best private schools, where they receive academic accolades every semester. For all intents and purposes, the Barringer family is picture perfect.
With one exception--one dark, dirty little secret that is hidden from the public eye.
Me.
Jade Elizabeth Roberts, age thirty-one, former model and present mistress, lover, whore--whatever you wish to label me to Hayden Barringer II.
So, there it is for you to digest with the usual female emotions ranging from disgust to ambivalence, depending upon your own personal life experiences or internal judgments with this sort of thing.
Maybe you've even been in my shoes. (Hope they're Gucci or Jimmy Choo's because that's what Hayden keeps me in these days.) Or maybe you've been the poor, unsuspecting wife, in which case you probably don't want to read any further. In your opinion, I'm nothing short of a home wrecking, artist of seduction, and trashy tramp, right?
Wrong.
That's not how it happened, trust me, and also believe me when I say that it has very little to do with you. I mean, that's exactly what he's going to say to you if you ever discover me. 'It has nothing to do with you, or how I feel about you.'
And guess what?
That is the truth. Women don't see it that way, of course. They presume it is a reflection in some way of their failure to please him at home, in bed, or perhaps their physical and/or sexual attractiveness has diminished over the years.
All totally false.
The truth is that men cheat because they can. So, hate me if you must, but just remember, if it's not me, it will be someone else. And that someone else may not be as introspective, benevolent and altruistic as me.
Oh, I'm not trying to paint myself as some adult girl scout here; not at all. But the truth is that I don't want to wreck Hayden's marriage; I don't want to replace Emily (his wife). I am perfectly happy and content with his attention and generosity--for the most part that is.
At least I was until recently.
I've been feeling trapped and restless lately. I've developed a curiosity of how life might be without the bonds that Hayden has placed on me. Someone I haven't met has planted seeds of doubt in my mind, or maybe they've always been there waiting for me to acknowledge them.
Let's face it; holidays are a bummer for a lot of reasons. But each year for the past three, Hayden sends me on a trip for most of December and through the first week of January. He allows me to choose where I want to go. I think it eases his conscience a bit knowing that I'm not holed up and alone in my apartment.
Yes, I said conscience. Don't believe t
hat old saying, "A dick has no conscience," because it's just not true.
Let me back up for a second. Hayden and I met a little over three years ago while I was doing a photo shoot for GQ magazine. The ad showed me dressed in a tight little black dress, wearing fuck-me pumps, and pulling a gorgeous male model behind me by the necktie he was wearing. Of course, his business suit was one of Barringer's finest. Hayden personally oversees all of the marketing and advertising copy. He's OCD about it actually.
So when he invited me out for a drink after the shoot, I gladly accepted. Drinks then turned into dinner, and eventually . . . breakfast. I can honestly say I did not know that he was married at that time. I learned shortly afterward when he expressed a desire to see me again, even providing me with his private cell number and instructions to leave a message because he never answers it.
I guess maybe I was a bit floored at the time, but of course I tried my best not to show it. I keep my past hidden from everyone, because actually, it's quite uninspired.
I don't come from wealth or privilege. I never knew my father, though my mother assured me that I had one out there . . . somewhere. She couldn't quite remember his name though, but apparently he was special to her, because he was the only one of her regulars that she allowed to disregard the condom code. She said that he paid her $50 more to ride her bareback.
Once I was well underway, she had to give up her career as a pro. She never held that against me, in fact, all things considered, my mother did the best that she could having a child at nineteen-- circumstances being what they were back then.
So, anyway, having been raised by the daughter of a Baptist minister turned whore, and moving sometimes three or four times a year to different trailer parks, kind of made me grow up fast--and wiser for it. . . I think.
I knew that it wouldn't take much to have a better life than Mom, and she always told me that my beauty would see to that; I made sure that it did.
My mother passed away shortly after I turned nineteen. The coroner ruled her death as an accidental overdose, but I knew better. It was suicide, pure and simple. She'd always told me that she was holding a little something back for me, and that when the time was right, I'd get it.
Turned out it was a $50,000 life insurance policy. Inside the locked metal box that contained the policy along with the rest of her important papers, was a registration form for a modeling/acting school located in Philadelphia, just a little over an hour from where we lived at the time.
I knew what she had done. She didn't want me working behind the cosmetics counter at the mall for minimum wage anymore; she wanted me to have better than that. Better than what she had. No matter how I'd come to be, my mother loved me more than she'd ever loved herself.
I smooth my chestnut brown hair in back, and then check my make-up one last time in the lighted vanity mirror and nod. Every hair is in place; my eyebrows tweezed into perfectly shaped arches, make-up flawless.
Hayden is out front of my apartment by now, waiting impatiently to take me to the airport.
I have decided to go to Belize this holiday season. It is one of the tropical places I haven't visited on any of my 'holiday vacations' as Hayden refers to them.
I've packed quite a bit more in my three suitcases this year. I hope that Hayden won't bitch too much when the doorman of my apartment building loads them into the trunk of his Mercedes. It's not as if he has to load them, but still, he will be the one to unload them once we reach the airport.
I slide into the passenger side, leaning over and dutifully kissing him on the lips.
"How long are you staying?" he asks, with a rare smile crossing his lips. "You have a credit card at your disposal you know?"
I smile over at him just as I am expected to do.
"I only packed the bare necessities, love," I respond. "I'll be gone for nearly a month you know, and I don't like to take advantage of your generosity. You do too much for me, Hayden. I don't deserve all that you lavish upon me."
His eyes flicker over me as he pulls his Mercedes from the curb into traffic, momentarily quiet. "If I didn't know better, I might think that you're trying to pick an argument with me. Have I ever begrudged you anything? Have I ever nit-picked your use of the credit cards that I've provided to you?"
"Of course not," I answer quickly. "I'm being totally sincere, Hayden. I'm not going to see you for a month, and I certainly don't want to part on a bad note."
He nods and the quiet envelops us once again.
As we pull into the busy airport access road he breaks the silence. "See that you behave yourself. I'll have people watching."
"Don't I always?" I ask, turning my gaze to look him squarely in the eye. "Haven't you always received stellar reports on my comings and goings during my holiday vacations?"
He gives me a sardonic smile that isn't without a hint of warning. "Yes my lovely, you've always behaved appropriately. Still, I feel the need to reiterate this with you. Blame my own insecurities. You're such a rare find that I want to make sure you're always mine."
"And I want to make sure of the same," I reply, taking my left hand and gently caressing his handsome cheek. "I aim to please."
And with that our conversation ends until we reach the short-term parking. He escorts me inside the terminal, making sure that I have my First-Class boarding pass for the seat that he's pre-selected for me. It is Seat 2A as always. Seat 2B will remain empty throughout this flight and my connecting one as well.
Hayden always makes it a point to purchase two adjoining seats in first class, not that he ever travels with me on these trips; he simply wants to make sure that no one sits next to me on these flights. He can't take the chance that it will be another man; one that might charm me away from him.
He hands me my carry-on and I lean in to kiss him once again on the lips as we reach the first class blow-through for security.
He pulls back quickly, not one for public affection. "Have a safe trip, Jade. I hope you enjoy your vacation."
"Happy holidays," I murmur, kissing him one final time and then watching him shift uncomfortably. "I'll miss you."
And with that, he turns on his heel and exits the terminal. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes momentarily, hoping like hell my plan is a good one.
Hopefully, if the gods are with me, and the plans I've put into motion months before are foolproof; I might choose not to return in January as expected. And if so, I will be free of Hayden Barringer the second's possessive and controlling nature for good.
God willing.
Chapter 1
I stretch out languidly on the padded chaise that I claimed just outside my cabana at the Bay Breeze Resort in San Pedro. The location is perfect; the white-sand beach is pristine and located near a gorgeous barrier reef. The warm, sunny, salt-kissed breeze ripples soothingly through my hair.
I prop a leg up, lowering my sunglasses as I gaze down the long stretch of deserted beach. This is Day Three. This is the day.
Now what?
Why am I so uptight, so nervous?
I know the reason. Taking risks isn't in my nature. I've convinced myself that personal and financial security are at the top of my hierarchy of needs. After all, my mother literally died so that I would have financial security and now that I do, why in the hell am I walking a tightrope, in stilettos, over it?
Because it's not enough, and it's never been enough and I'm tired of rationalizing that it is, and that it should be.
It's why I carefully crafted a plan of my own for this holiday vacation. It has taken months, but every piece has fallen into place just the way it was supposed to.
Let's rewind, shall we?
I met Janett back in the summer at the country club. Yes, Hayden makes sure that I have a membership at his club, which I know sounds extremely generous, but you have to understand, he spends a great deal of time there in the summer. He plays golf and tennis, watches his youngest child's swim meets, and then there are the poker games in the clubhouse with his ciga
r club.
He likes for me to spend time at the club during the days that he's there so that I'm available for the random hook-ups we have in secret places.
You see, the main clubhouse is an auspicious mammoth stone fortress that dates back to the pre-Prohibition days. It served its purpose back then mainly because of its numerous secret rooms and underground caverns where the contraband was hidden from government agents that were on a witch-hunt for those violating the law of Prohibition.
Hayden knows every nook and cranny of the gothic mansion including the underground tunnels that lead to the long-deserted distilleries that were used to produce illegal spirits back in the day.
He told me one time as a young boy, he and his brother had discovered them. They used to explore them thinking they were some ancient catacombs that no one else knew about.
It's difficult for me to imagine Hayden as a curious and mischievous child, because the one that I know is serious and brooding most of the time. He's direct and no-nonsense in a quiet yet intimidating way.
And very controlling.
But you've already guessed that, haven't you?
You need to know that his controlling ways have never reached the point of being abusive; I need to make that perfectly clear. His generosity with me is boundless, yet emotionally he gives me nothing of himself. My attempts at showing him affection are becoming rare these days, mostly because they've been ignored or have gone unappreciated in the past.
Now back to my plan.
Janett is a friend, but more than that, she is someone that I trust implicitly. She works the cocktail lounge at the club in the summer, and during the off-season months, as a bookkeeper for her father's restaurant.
What's interesting about Janett is that she's roughly the same age as me, and the same height and build. So, with sunglasses, and a chestnut brown wig that is styled like my hair, she can easily pass as me to even the most discerning eye.
Jaded (WTF? Series Book 1) Page 1