Misconception

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Misconception Page 19

by Christy Hayes


  Pace checked his emails daily, sometimes twice a day. Once he almost caught her. She’d gone downstairs before bed to put some presents in the closet where they hid gifts and couldn’t help but check if there were any new emails. Jason had done about thirty minutes of work earlier in the evening and she wanted with every fiber of her being to know if he’d contacted Deborah or if she’d contacted him. Pace had just logged on when she heard his footsteps on the stairs. She quickly closed out of the screen and made up some lie as she lunged for the hall, telling him she’d smelled something weird and wanted to make sure he hadn’t put some food item in the trash. He didn’t seem to notice she was lying, perhaps because she suggested he take her to bed and have his way with her. Nothing like a little sex to distract a man.

  Later in the week Deborah sent another email—the same stuff, clarification about some email and the ever present “Hope to see you soon.” Pace was still sneering at the screen when she scrolled down and saw Deborah’s last name attached to her signature before the company name and address. Deborah Thigley. She logged off, shot up the stairs to her computer, and had executed a Google search within minutes. There was only one Deborah Thigley listed in the small New York town. Pace found an article in the local paper from a few years ago with a picture. She’d been Miss Constilligna County and sat atop the flower decorated float, her double D’s on full display even though the image was grainy. Deborah was gorgeous and could have easily hopped on a plane to Orlando and filled in for Belle from Beauty and the Beast at the Disney character breakfast. Crap.

  * * *

  Jason was walking on egg shells, except he was so damn angry at Colin and Trey he may as well have been stomping. Something, sometime soon was going to break. He felt like he and Pace were circling each other. He kept watching her to be sure Trey hadn’t decided she needed to know what he’d done and she watched him because he was acting so...intense. He was freaking her out, Jason could tell, but he couldn’t seem to help it. The only way to act natural would be for him to let his guard down and if he did that, he was convinced she’d find out he’d had her followed. Damn it, he’d never consider hiring house painters without soliciting three bids and recommendations from neighbors and he eenie-meenie-minie-moed his choice for a private dick from the internet? What the hell had he been thinking? But who could he have called and asked for a reference?

  The more he thought about it and, to be honest, he thought about it all the time, what could Trey do about the pictures other than offer to buy them from DeAngelo? And if he’d done that, and he must have because Jason hadn’t heard or seen a thing about any of it in the news or on the web, why hadn’t Colin or Trey called and gloated about their success and let him know the danger had passed? Was he supposed to crawl back to Colin and make sure Trey had covered his ass? That would be the day. But the longer he worried about it, the more he let it eat away at the lining of his stomach, the more convinced he became that the other shoe was about to drop.

  He was working on the environmental impact study for his client in New York and fielding miscellaneous phone calls when Tarks came into his office and shut the door. He was decked out in his typical taupe suit and Jason’s favorite—loafers. He plopped down in a chair uninvited and picked at his nails until Jason got off the phone.

  “Kelly.” He started talking before the receiver even hit the cradle. “How are things going in New York?”

  Tarks had left him pretty much alone on the project and Jason wasn’t sure if he thought the scope of the deal was beneath his interference or if he’d given him a wide berth considering his well-known personal problems. Nothing like a little office gossip to keep the boss off your ass. No matter the reason, he was thrilled to be flying under his radar and could feel his stomach muscles clench when Tarks mentioned the project he’d already dubbed solely his.

  “Fine.” Jason scribbled some notes and closed the file on his computer so Tarks couldn’t wander behind his desk as he sometimes did to peek at what he worked on. “What can I do for you?” Tarks just sat there, lounging in Jason’s chair as if he had nowhere to go and nothing to do. He must have gotten bored with lording over his employees and checking his image in the mirror.

  “Just checking in.” He leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees. Jason could smell his spicy cologne settle over the room. “We’ve got our big meeting in January to strategize and plan for the coming year. I thought you might be interested to know I’ve recommended you for partner.”

  Smile, Jason told himself, act happy. “Well…that’s a surprise.”

  “It shouldn’t be. You’ve been with us long enough and you’ve certainly proved your worth.” Tarks stood up and walked to the door. He turned around before opening it. “Of course, this isn’t public knowledge, so I wouldn’t discuss it with anyone just yet.”

  “Of course.” Tarks winked and closed the door behind him. Jesus. If he’d known his status as a ladies man would earn him a partnership, he’d have faked a mistress years ago.

  Shit. Had Tarks somehow figured out he was planning to leave? But how would he? Jason hadn’t said anything to anyone except a former classmate from Indianapolis whose brain he’d picked and he’d specifically asked him to keep it to himself. Damn it. The idea of making partner in this firm was about as appealing as setting his skin on fire, but he’d hoped to have more time before making anything official. They usually announced partners right after the meeting in mid-January, so now he had a deadline to worry about.

  He opened up the design for New York. It was too good a project to walk away from. He was going to have to talk to the guys at Bisbain Mellon about his leaving the firm and try to get a commitment from them to follow, which meant another trip to New York. And leaving Pace and the kids for any amount of time was the last thing he wanted to do, considering he didn’t trust Colin or Trey to strike while he was away.

  Jason’s fears were unwarranted, he realized, when he came home that night and found Pace waiting for him when he opened the door. “Hey.” She stood in the middle of the kitchen glaring at him with her chin in the air and her nostrils flaring. His mouth went dry and he felt like he’d stepped into an ambush.

  “I thought you trusted me!” Her voice sounded thick with righteous anger.

  He lowered his case to the ground and shut the door. “What are you talking about?”

  She pulled something from behind her back, a manila envelope, and shoved it into his chest. “You had me followed!”

  She stormed out of the kitchen and he took a step to go after her, but stopped. He opened the envelope and peeked inside. Black and white 8x10’s of Pace shopping, Pace meeting with Amanda and that guy from work, Pace and her father having lunch… A white piece of paper with one printed line slipped out. Who wants to know what you do when he’s away? Fuck. Jason flipped the envelope over and saw it was mailed locally with no return address.

  He should have known.

  Chapter 22

  If Tori had to eat another chicken dinner, she was going to toss her plate against the wall. In the last two weeks she’d had lemon chicken, almond chicken, rosemary chicken, crab stuffed chicken, glazed chicken, chicken, chicken, chicken… Didn’t anyone eat red meat anymore?

  She glanced around at the people milling about the ballroom of the Intercontinental Hotel. The five-hundred-dollar a plate charity event was packed and she’d made the rounds to just about everyone with whom she’d hoped to get some face time. She felt physically exhausted, but more mentally challenged than she had in years. Politics was a game, a game she’d always been very good at, and a game she’d avoided playing for the last fifteen years. But now, with Colin fighting so hard to hold onto his place in history, she felt as though every conversation she had, every contact she made, every false compliment to the wife of a supporter, was done with a greater good in mind. She and Colin were a team, even on nights like tonight when he couldn’t get away and she worked the room alone.

  She was about to leave, standing in
a short line at the coat check closet, when she was approached by a well known reporter from one of the city’s largest television stations. Tori hadn’t seen her in the ballroom and was thrilled to have a chance to plug Colin’s success with a bill the reporter had once referred to as impassable.

  “Deidre, you’re looking lovely.” As would anyone with a professional make-up artist and a plastic surgeon on retainer. “I simply adore your brooch.”

  She smiled and in her eyes Tori saw the hint of trouble. Deidre was known to pry where her smarter peers had learned to look away. “I didn’t see your husband tonight, Tori. Is he burning the midnight oil again?”

  There was something in her question, in the tilt of her head, the lilt of her voice that told Tori she was on a fishing expedition. “There’s a lot to be done for the state. You’ve covered politics long enough to know there’s no such thing as a break.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She grinned and passed the attendant her ticket as Tori’s mink arrived. “Seems like Senator Whitfield knows how to recharge his batteries, if you know what I mean.”

  Tori did know what she meant and so did the attendant, the couple behind them in line, and the security guard smirking only a few feet from where she stood bolted to the ground. It was only a fling, she wanted to shout at Deidre after she’d slapped the superior look right off her face. It’s not going on anymore, Tori screamed inside her head. But as she took leave of the reporter with a scornful glance and slowly, methodically made her way to the valet station, she knew the only one stupid enough to believe it was her.

  * * *

  How could Pace have thought Jason had simply had a sudden change of heart? That one night of fabulous sex would make him realize she’d never give herself to another man? She couldn’t believe it. After hours of looking at the photos that had arrived in the mail, after hours of piecing together what he’d done, she still couldn’t believe he’d done it. And the look on his face! The minute she’d said it, the minute she’d shoved the envelope into his chest, he’d known he’d been caught.

  She swirled around the den, too keyed up to sit, too upset to do anything but wait for him to come out of the kitchen and explain himself. Ha. There couldn’t be an explanation for having her followed. How could he have done that to her, to them?

  “Pace….” He’d removed his jacket and loosened his tie. He looked guilty; the shifty eyes, the grim expression, guilt was written all over his face.

  “Don’t you dare tell me you didn’t have me followed. There was a note, just in case I didn’t understand.”

  “I can explain.”

  Pace lunged for him, her hand outstretched, her finger poking into his chest. “Explain? What a joke!” She’d backed him into the wall, a ridiculous sight for any onlooker considering he was almost a foot taller. “There couldn’t be an explanation good enough for this!”

  “Pace, please. Just hear me out.”

  His voice was pleading. The scene was going to get ugly and she felt so thankful the boys had gone to the movies with Sherry. To think she’d been looking forward to an evening alone with her husband. “Just admit it. For once just be honest with me.” He ducked his head and ran his hands through his hair. When he looked up and met her eyes, Pace nearly fell to the ground. How did they get so far down this dirty road?

  “I had you followed.”

  She yowled, something between a cry and a scream, and she couldn’t stop. Jason seemed alarmed, she could tell by the way he just stood there watching her, his eyes wide. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. She wanted to hit him so hard he felt like she did, like someone had tilted his world upside down with nothing to hold onto. She wanted to duck her head and ram him in the chest like an angry bull. She wanted to slap him across the face so hard her hand print would be permanently affixed to his cheek. But the surge of unthinkable violence, so unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, left her too confused to move or think or breathe.

  Jason finally stepped toward her and she waved him off and took a deep breath.

  “Honey, you need to sit down. You need to calm down so we can talk about this.”

  “Calm down? Calm down?” She laughed and circled the coffee table. She felt tempted to flick the family photo of them across the room. She sat on the couch, crossed her legs, and knitted her hands together over her knee, the picture of demure innocence. “Please, Jason. Join me on the couch and tell me all about the reasons you had me followed and photographed like some kind of low life insurance frauder, like some kind of…cheating scum.” She patted the cushion next to her for emphasis and was glad to see from his posture that her sarcasm had lit his short fuse. “Hope you didn’t pay a lot of money to catch me dastardly trying to earn some extra money, shopping for those nefarious groceries, or plotting your death with my father.” Pace wanted him mad. She wanted them to scream at each other until all of the hurt and fury had escaped her system and she could breathe again.

  He stood in front of her, his hands on his hips, and sneered. “You think this is funny?”

  “No, Jason, I don’t think this is the least bit funny. But I deserve to know why you had me followed.”

  He breathed hard, twisting his lips together, and Pace knew she was about to get her wish. “When I walked in your parent’s house on Thanksgiving Day and found Trey Conway with his hands all over you…” he threw his arms in the air, “…I lost it.”

  Pace shot up from the couch. “Trey? Trey and his harmless flirtation? Uhhhh. Are we back to this again? What do I have to do to convince you I don’t want him, Jason? Take a blood oath?”

  “There’s nothing harmless about Trey!” he shouted. “And what the hell is a blood oath?”

  Pace shook her head and growled in frustration. Now was not the time to explain the bizarre antics of young couples in love as explained by late night cable television.

  “You don’t have any idea what it’s like to have to deal with him,” he continued. “How would you feel if every time you turned around you came face-to-face with someone I used to care about? Someone I’d had a serious relationship with? Someone who still wanted to have a relationship with me even though I’m married?”

  “Jason…” Pace never thought she’d have to defend herself after what he’d done. She knew he and Trey didn’t like each other, but this fury… And what could she say? She’d never even been to his hometown, never met anyone he’d dated before. “I don’t care about Trey at all. The last time we were together I was seventeen-years-old. I can’t believe you’re jealous of a high school romance.”

  “Do you know how many times I’ve heard him talk about when the two of you were together? Have you ever noticed how he looks at you? And he’s always touching you, Pace, and you never do anything about it!”

  “That’s not true. I don’t encourage him, that’s just how he is. It means nothing.”

  “Well, I hate it!”

  “If you hate it so much, then why haven’t you ever said anything? Why haven’t you talked to me about it or…or… asked him to stop?”

  He gave a half laugh and shook his head. “You know I hate it, Pace, just like you know I hate him. And if I asked him to stop, I’d do it with my fists and considering your parents think he walks on water, they’d only hate me even more.”

  Pace was about to scream back at him that her parents didn’t hate him, but she stopped just as the words were on the tip of her tongue. Her mother’s feelings had never been a secret and after lunch with her father, she couldn’t deny the truth. Her parents may not hate him, but they certainly didn’t like him very much. Wasn’t that what had led her to seduce him back to bed? “Jason, I don’t have any feelings for Trey whatsoever. If you want to punch him in the face, go right ahead.”

  He snorted sarcastically. “Please, Pace. You’d probably be the first one to coo over his injuries.”

  “I don’t know what to say to you to convince you I don’t care about him. I love you, Jason. I married you.”

  “He wo
uld have you back in a heartbeat. Who do you think sent those pictures?”

  Pace fell back on the couch and just stared at him. She knew him inside and out—or she thought she did, before she opened that envelope and her world shattered in her hands. She knew every imperfection on his impossibly handsome face; the tiny chip in his left eye tooth from a fall he took as a child, the mole over his right ear that she teasingly called his beauty mark, the dent in his skull from when his head hit the corner of a locker in his only middle school fight. How could she know all of those things and not know he had it in him to question her love again? “I don’t care who sent the pictures, Jason. I only care that you had them taken in the first place.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, let out a big breath, and let his hands fall to his sides. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have had you followed, no question. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry you did it or sorry I found out?”

  “Both.”

  Pace, who had always thought of herself as above petty one-upmanship, the one everyone described as the nicest person in the world, couldn’t accept a simple apology. She couldn’t chalk it up to a natural reaction to jealousy. She wished she were a big enough person to let it go, but she couldn’t. If Jason could get it all off his chest, then so could Pace. “How would you feel if I had you followed when you were out-of-town? If I had some sleazy private detective watch your every move? What would I see then, Jason? Would I have actual proof that you flirt with your client’s receptionists or just the emails I’ve already read?”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her; he opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again. He shifted his weight and put his hands on his hips—typical stressed out avoidance move—and then tried again. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Oh, please. You know exactly what I’m talking about!” When he lifted his hands in the air she said, “Deborah? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten her name? Or do you just say, ‘Ooohh, Baby, don’t stop?”

 

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