Deception
Copyright © 2015 April Isabelle Ordonez
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Dedicated to my sister, Evelyn
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
About April Isabelle Ordonez
Other books by April Isabelle Ordonez
Connect with April Isabelle Ordonez
Chapter One
Friday
April 12, 2013
10:04 a.m.
Sauntering out of the courtroom, I press two on my cell phone, but when it starts to ring, I press End. Tears well in my eyes. Far too often over the past 336 days, I've forgotten that I can no longer call my dad as I once did. I press three and wait for my mom to answer.
"I did it," I shout into the phone, over the loud chanting and chatter in the background.
"Oh honey, I knew you would. Your dad would be so proud."
Yes, my dad would be proud. My dad was always proud of me, but knowing that I won the biggest case of my career in just under a year of taking over his law firm would have certainly put tears of joy in his eyes. That thought puts tears in my eyes.
After telling her that I’ll call with more details once I get back to the office, we hang up. Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I turn around to find my client, Kelly. “Thank you again, Amy," she says with tears streaming down her face. I hug her.
"You're welcome, but you deserve this."
Kelly was accused of killing her five-year-old son. It was a long, drawn out trial that stretched over four weeks. But in the end, there was no denying she would have never done such an unspeakable act to her child. Every single piece of evidence proved Kelly had nothing to do with the murder. But her monstrous ex-husband sure did. Now she gets to go home to her other son, who was temporarily taken into custody by the state.
When we pull away from our hug, I hear a little voice from within the mass of reporters. "Mommy!" Evan, Kelly’s seven-year-old son, bolts in our direction.
I squeeze Kelly’s hand. "Go to your son and finally start healing."
After walking into a sea of flashing cameras and questions, I step outside the courthouse. I draw in a deep breath, pushing my way down the stairs to the town car awaiting me.
• • • •
"Surprise!"
I open the door to the law firm and the room explodes in cheers. Quickly scanning the room, I see all my colleagues, as well as my mom, sister, and brother. My heart starts to find its rhythm again as Laura, my long time best friend and an attorney at the firm, meets me with a glass of champagne. "Congratulations, Amy. We know that winning this case was one of the most important things in your life. We’re so proud of you."
While I knew since the age of four that I wanted to be a lawyer someday, I also knew that I had big shoes to fill when I took over my dad’s firm last year. He was noted as one of the top ten criminal defense attorneys in the nation, and only lost five cases in his thirty-eight-year career before cancer ravaged his body. Winning this case that had gained national attention, feels like a big feather in my hat, confirming that I made the right decision.
Laura takes me by the hand to a table with a beautiful cake that reads: Happy 32nd birthday to the best attorney and boss
My eyes widen, and my jaw drops open. How could I have forgotten today was my birthday? I was so wrapped up in the case I forgot it was approaching. It’s my first birthday without my dad.
My mom pushes through the crowd the moment she sees me frown. I bury my head in her shoulder, while everyone stands in silence, aware of the emotions I'm trying hard to push back. "It’ll be all right, Ames. He’s with you every day, and he would never let you go this alone."
Fighting back tears, I pull my head away and offer her a forced smile. "Thank you, Mom." I raise my glass, and mutter, "To a new year filled with more wins and more new shoes."
Everyone claps and downs their champagne.
After lots of cake and more champagne, my colleagues get back to work, and my brother and sister say their goodbyes. My mom hands me a small manila envelope, along with a birthday card. I turn it over and begin to open it. My mom puts a hand out. "That one is private, read it when you’re by yourself. I want you to know that I'm so proud of you and love you very much." She hugs me tight. "Everything will be all right. Time heals."
As we say goodbye, she reminds me we’re due for our girls' weekend. She mentions that she’ll speak with Julie, my assistant, to carve out a time on my schedule. Not only can I use such a weekend, but she can too. It’s been a long year for her without my dad. He was the rock in her life she so desperately needed.
"Thank you. I don't know how I could have gotten through the last year without you."
"Likewise, Ames. Seeing what a wonderful woman you’ve become has made it easier for me. I’m so incredibly proud of you and want nothing but happiness for you."
Moments later, I’m back behind my desk, ready to take on a new day filled with criminal law. I stuff the envelope my mom gave to me in my purse so l can read later.
My morning feels like a whirlwind with the attorneys coming in and out of my office, asking for my advice and briefing me on their current cases. A while later, there’s a knock on my door. I look up from the computer. Julie strolls in with three gentlemen, all holding breathtakingly large bouquets of roses. This is in true Rich fashion; they have to be from him.
After she advises the delivery guys to put the flowers on the conference table, I go over and remove the card from the envelope with Open First written on the front and read: Happy Birthday...
Then, I open the envelope that has the #2 on it and read: ...you thought I forgot...
A smile forms on my face before I open up envelope #3: ...turn around
Spinning around, I see Rich standing at the door, and a ginormous smile forms on my face. "I asked Julie to keep your afternoon open so that we can do something together." He takes my hand leading me―well, I don't know where to. He advises me to have a seat in the limo that awaits us at the curb.
Handing me a glass, he says, "Let's toast to you being born."
During the car ride, we catch up on the happenings of our day so far. He apologizes for not being at my surprise party, stating he had to leave for work early this morning because clients from England are in town. I shrug. This isn’t the first time Rich couldn't make a celebration or event. He owns a prestigious architectural firm, with clients in San Francisco, all round the US, and even in Europe. He lives a busy life, and that is important to him. But he always finds a way to make it up to me, usually in some grand fashion.
As I take my last sip of champagne, the car comes to a
stop. "Are you ready?" Rich asks, before exiting the car.
"Ready for what?"
The car door opens, and a hand reaches for mine. When I hear the loud whirling sound, I realize that we’re at the airport. "Where are we flying to?"
"Come with me," Rich says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"Your company jet?"
"Step up." He guides me up the stairs of the plane. After leading me to the seat, he bends down announcing we’re off to Catalina Island for the afternoon. My heart jumps in excitement. I’ve been yearning to squish my toes in warm sand.
"Thank you. You really know how to surprise a girl."
"The surprise has only begun," he responds, grinning.
He fetches a bag. Opening it, he reveals a stack of clothes—my clothes―a nicely folded tank top, shorts, and a pair of sandals. "I thought you'd be more comfortable in these," he says, handing them to me.
Standing on tiptoe and putting my arms around his neck, I lean in so our lips meet. He takes me in a quick embrace.
"You better change. We'll be at the island soon."
I pull back and offer a small, playful smile. "Maybe you can help me?" He winks just as his cellphone rings.
After reaching for it in his pocket and looking at who’s calling, he tells me he has to take the call. I frown, not feeling so playful anymore, and then scowl at him before going to the restroom.
When I return, he’s still on the phone, but announces that he’ll call them back later. "What’s that?" He points to the envelope that reads, Ames, with hand-drawn hearts all over it, which happens to be peaking out of my purse.
"That's from my mom. She gave it to me this morning. She told me to read it when I'm alone. I think she misses my dad."
He narrows his eyes. "I think a lot people still miss him."
Twenty minutes later, the plane lands. After exiting the airport, we’re escorted to a limo. "To Avalon," Rich tells the driver. And with a nod of his head, the driver whisks us away.
I grab Rich's hand in mine, resting it on the seat between us. I lay my head on his shoulder and enjoy the beautiful scenery. We reach our destination without a word spoken between us.
The driver opens my door and offers to help me out. The smell from the nearby restaurants and sweet tang of the ocean is invigorating. The island scenery is equally amazing, but one look at Rich exiting the car puts a smile on my face. I have such a beautiful man—one who works hard and provides me with such moments. What more could a girl ask for?
We spend the next two-and-a-half hours eating lunch on the beach and strolling along the boardwalk. I browse in and out of the stores while Rich thumbs through email messages and texts. The time seems so brief when Rich announces we have to return to the airport.
I mope. "We should come back and stay overnight.”
"We will someday when we aren't so busy. But I have one more surprise awaiting you, and we can't be late." My curiosity is peaked.
• • • •
When we’re back in San Francisco, Rich directs the limo driver. "Take us to 109 Van Ness Avenue."
Approximately twenty minutes later, we’re standing in the parking lot of a car dealership, and I'm staring at a cherry red, 2013 Lamborghini Aventador.
"Happy birthday."
"Are you serious? This is mine?" Rich nods, raising his eyebrows in confirmation. "Are you sure you can do this? I mean, I don't want you to have to work extra to make this happen."
"Not to worry, Amy. This has been planned for. It's yours. And you don't have to give up your Cadillac either. Get behind the wheel and take me for a spin."
I plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."
After a brief demonstration of the many gadgets from the salesperson, I press down on the gas and we’re off. A few moments later, Rich's cellphone chimes. After looking briefly down at it, he tells me I need to drop him off at his firm because the clients from England are waiting for him.
"Is our Friday date night still on?" I ask, already anticipating the answer.
"Sorry, we'll have to take a rain check again this week," he says, without looking away from his phone. I don't respond.
We've taken rain checks far too many times in the last few months. Friday nights were our time, and lately our busy schedules―mostly his―have robbed us of it more times than not.
When we reach his firm, he places a soft kiss on my cheek. "I hope you had a good afternoon. I wish we could have spent more time together. I promise to make it up to you."
"Thank you, Rich," I say warmly.
He exits the car, and I press on the gas pedal, making the tires squeal as I pull away. I look in my rearview mirror to see Rich smiling and shaking his head.
Once arriving at my law firm, I park the Lamborghini next to my Cadillac convertible. I suppose I’ll have to get someone to drive it home for me. Looking around the parking lot, I see a couple of cars remaining. One of them is Julie's, and the other belongs to my best friend, Laura. Just the two people I want to see.
Getting out of the car, something catches my eye. I walk over to the Cadillac and see a sunflower has been placed on the windshield. I grab it and read the attached tag: Happy Birthday
Inside the building, Julie has her nose pressed up against the window while practically drooling. "Is that yours?" she gasps, pointing to my new car.
"Yes. Can you believe it?"
"Wow, Amy, you’ve got a keeper." I agree, but wish I had more time with him lately. I suppose, that's the price I pay for being with such a successful businessman.
In an attempt to prevent Julie from drowning in the pool of drool, I ask if she’s seen anyone around my car.
"No one. Why?" I raise the sunflower so she can see it. "Again?"
"Yeah."
This is the third time a sunflower has shown up on my car window. I found the first one after my dad's funeral. It read: Thinking of You. The second one was on Valentine’s Day that read: Spreading a Little Love. When Rich said it hadn’t come from him, I assumed the one on the day of my dad’s funeral was from a friend or family member who knew it was the most difficult day of my life. But after receiving the one on Valentine’s Day, I called my mom to ask if she knew anything about. My dad had known my favorite flower was a sunflower, and I wondered if he’d arranged to send them to me. She told me she knew nothing about it.
"Whoever it is, I think it's pretty sweet of them," Julie says. "And if it was your dad, as you suspect, it’s proof he never wants you to forget him." I smile and tears pool in my eyes. I could never forget him. Ever.
Before the flood gates open, I ask if I have any messages or if there is anything she needs to catch me up on from the day. She hands me a stack of phone messages.
"You got a few calls from clients; one from your mom, who was calling to tell you about the vacation plans she had me put together; and one from Roger, your accountant, asking if you wanted to file an extension for your taxes this year. Oh, and one from Tracy, who claims you've dropped off the face of the earth. She wanted to confirm you were still alive."
“I’ll be sure to call her,” I respond, wincing. I haven’t been able to give much attention to my friends―or family, for that matter―in the last few months since I was so wrapped up in the case. I know they miss me as much as I miss them. "Is Laura still here?"
"I think she's in her office."
"Well, Julie dear, you get home. It's Friday, and I'm sure you have two little ones waiting for you. Have a great weekend. I'll see you Monday. Thank you for waiting for me to get back. You're a true gem."
She smiles and grabs her bag. "I hope you had a great time on the island. Happy birthday, Amy," she responds, heading toward the door.
I peek into Laura's office to find her packing a bag. "I'm glad I caught you before you left."
She looks up. "Hi, Amy. I just finished up the closing arguments for Monday morning."
"Great. I know you have this one wrapped around your finger, but do you need me to do anything?"
>
"No. I left a copy of the closing arguments on your desk for you to review this weekend."
"Thanks."
Her phone dings, and she looks down. "I have to get going," she says quickly.
"A new guy?" I tease.
"No, I have plans with my sister." She looks nervous—or anxious—for some reason.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah. Sorry if I seem distracted. My sister said she needs to talk to me, and that can never be good coming from Sarah."
"Well, don't let me keep you any longer. Call me this weekend if you need anything or want to chat. Otherwise, I'll meet you here at eight o’clock on Monday. We can drive to the courthouse together."
"Okay." On her way to the door, she stops abruptly. "Happy birthday, Amy. We'll have to get together to celebrate sometime next week." She squeezes my hand and then she's gone.
She was really distracted. I won't let it bother me. After all, I've known her my whole life, and she's always panicking about everything and hates being late. I shrug it off and go to my office.
A few seconds later, I hear the muffled sound of my cellphone chiming. "Where in the world did I put it?" I say out loud, trying to locate it. I remember it's in the pocket of my blazer. Taking it out, I notice that there are three missed texts and one voicemail. All the texts are from Tracy.
First text: Amy Silver, wanted dead or alive.
I smile.
The second one reads: Missing: Amy Silver. Hood Milk Company contacted for milk carton advertising.
I chuckle.
Third text: Okay, Amy. I'm honestly worried. Where the hell are you? Call me!
"Oops." I call her.
“I guess I can call off the search dogs now."
"Sorry, Tracy. I was stolen away for the afternoon."
"So I heard. You're lucky your assistant answers her phone."
"I miss your face."
"Come out with me tonight. John and I are meeting up with my old college roommate and her husband for dinner and drinks."
"No way. I refuse to be the fifth wheel."
"Come on, you know with three girls together, the two men will be the fifth wheel. Please come. I miss you, and it's your birthday. Happy birthday, sexy."
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