Wrapped in a Donovan

by A. C. Arthur

  “No ma’am, I’d rather be the type of woman that decides what I’ll make of my life and when,” was Jenise’s reply. She’d tried to make it sound as cordial and respectful as she could, even though she knew Carolyn might still take offense.

  “You do know that you two are doing a terrible job hiding whatever is going on between you,” Carolyn continued as she folded her arms over her chest.

  This woman was class and beauty all wrapped in one. She wore a smart-looking pant suit, in a lovely shade of burnt orange. Her hair, cut just beneath her ears, was neat and styled, her make-up minimal but enough to bring out her mature beauty. She wore gold studs at her ears and a gold choker around her neck. And when she smiled, it was all-knowing. A fact that made Jenise just a little nervous.

  “I’m not hiding anything,” she said because she couldn’t speak for Savian. Or rather, she wouldn’t speak for him, especially since he was deep into trying to hide what was between them.

  “Look Jenise, you strike me as a very smart woman. I knew that the first time I met you, that’s why I trusted you with my son’s future immediately. I have every confidence in the fact that you will work out his legal troubles in a satisfactory manner.”

  Jenise nodded and was just about to thank Carolyn, when the woman held up a hand to halt her words.

  “What I also felt the moment I met you was something much more than a professional commitment. It was in your tone when you talked about finding the evidence to clear him. You don’t believe he killed anyone, and not just because that’s your job as his attorney. You don’t believe it because you know exactly what type of man he is. And you like that type of man. You like it a lot,” she finished.

  Jenise readjusted her purse on her shoulder as she looked directly at the woman.

  “Mrs. Donovan, I certainly do not mean to offend you in any way, but whatever is going on between Savian and I—which I believe you may be totally off base on—is our business.”

  “No, dear. I don’t think so. What I know is my son. I know how he thinks it’s better to keep to himself. He’s always been that way and I’ve always prayed for the day when a woman would come along and remove those blinders from his eyes. When you walked into that room at the police station, I knew that woman was you.”

  “You’re wrong,” Jenise insisted. “I don’t need a man to define me. I know exactly who I am and what I want out of life without a man being in the equation,” Jenise admitted before snapping her lips shut.

  Carolyn only nodded as she reached out to take one of Jenise’s hands.

  “Well, then, since you know all that, I’m sure you’ll know when a man comes along that will compliment you and your independence in every way. And when you realize that, I’ll bet—since you’re so smart and know exactly what you want and need—that you’ll know just how to convince that man that he’s not only everything that you’ve never wished for, but so much more.”

  “As a matter of fact,” Carolyn continued to talk when Jenise had opened her mouth to reply, then quickly shut it again. “Since we are entering the Christmas season, I’m sure you’ll notice when that Christmas magic takes hold and starts to work all on its own, without any help or hindrance from you or anyone else.”

  “Now,” she said stepping closer to Jenise and surprising her when she kissed her on the cheek. “You go on home and get your work done. It was lovely having you for dinner tonight. You’re always welcome in this family.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Donovan,” was all Jenise managed to say.

  She waved a hand at her. “Nonsense, you call me Ms. Carolyn. We’re family now.”

  No, Jenise thought as she walked out of that beautiful house, leaving that friendly and loving family behind, she wasn’t one of them. She never would be because that’s not what Savian wanted. And to be perfectly fair, it wasn’t what she’d wanted, not at first. Now, she simply had no idea what she wanted, or needed for that matter.

  The really sad part was that just like Ms. Carolyn, Jenise had always believed in Christmas magic. She’d sworn by it and her mistletoe. That, however, was before she’d met Savian Donovan.

  Chapter 8

  Savian stood at Jenise’s front door, unwilling to lift his hand to knock and unable to dismiss the fact that there was a reason for him being here.

  About an hour ago, as he’d just finished his workout and was about to step into the shower, she’d sent him a text message.

  New development in the case. You should come over tonight.

  A part of him had thought it was just her way of getting him over there. Couldn’t she have simply called to tell him whatever had happened? Wouldn’t that have been the professional way to handle things? He’d put the phone back on his dresser and headed into the shower. As the water fell in stinging hot pelts against his skin, he thought of how much he did not want to go to Jenise’s apartment.

  He hadn’t been at her apartment since Wednesday night and he hadn’t seen or spoken to her since Thanksgiving Day when she’d surprised him at his aunt and uncle’s house. Savian hadn’t known how to react when she’d appeared unannounced at their family holiday meal. So he hadn’t said a word to her and then he’d compounded that by not calling, texting or going to see her in the last two days. He’d told himself that it was the right thing to do because things had changed and he didn’t want them to. It was his right to pull back if he wanted to, even if for just a couple of days.

  His conversation with Parker the afternoon before Thanksgiving continued to replay in Savian’s mind, just as it had when he’d looked up to see Jenise walking into his aunt’s dining room. Catching Parker’s unmistakable look of triumph from across the table had only made matters worse, and Savian’s mood had quickly gone from thankful to agitated. He’d stayed in that state of mind for the duration of the holiday weekend and for the first time, in he didn’t know how long, he was thankful that Donovan Media’s corporate offices were closed until Monday.

  He’d finished his shower and stepped out with the absolute intention of ignoring Jenise’s text message. By the time he’d dried off and walked back into his bedroom, he’d changed his mind and picked up his phone. He was going to reply to her text asking that she say whatever she had to say via another text or call him, as he thought she should have done in the first place. A string of curses tumbled from his lips as he began to type…

  I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

  He continued to curse and grumble as he’d dressed, grabbed his keys and headed out. During the ride to her apartment, Savian turned on the radio in the truck in the hopes of drowning out how surprisingly comfortable it felt to have Jenise sitting at that table beside him sharing a Thanksgiving meal. It had, of course been a new feeling, but still, it had also been good. That thought really pissed him off and he hurriedly turned up the volume on the radio before realizing what was actually playing on the station.

  Johnny Gill’s “Give Love On Christmas Day” filled the interior of the truck and Savian couldn’t help but frown once more. This song had played several times while he was at Jenise’s place in the past two weeks. She loved to sing along with it as she did most of the holiday songs she listened to. Savian knew the words to this one as well, but instead of singing, he liked watching her move around her apartment while she did. There was something different about her facial expression when she was singing. It was almost as if she were wishing for this same type of love in her life. That was silly, Savian told himself that every time the thought entered his mind, but still, the look on her face was the same each time.

  He did not change the station, although he was certain he really did not want to hear Christmas music as he drove through the city at almost ten o’clock on a Sunday night. It would have been better if he’d stayed home, he knew that but still kept driving, until he’d finally arrived.

  Now, as he continued to stand at her door, he wasn’t sure what to do next. Knock or walk away. Turn around and go home and text her that he couldn’t make it. Go in
side and act as if he were still the same and that nothing had changed between them. He was conflicted and so he just stood still. Until she opened the door and asked, “Where you planning to stand there all night?”

  Again, Savian frowned, then stopped because his facial muscles were beginning to ache from constantly being flexed that way.

  “Sorry. I was thinking about something,” he said as he moved past her to step inside.

  She was closing the door as she talked. “Then I apologize for interrupting you. But there’s something I think you need to see.”

  Jenise walked past him, going straight through the dimly lit living room and back toward her home office. Savian followed without saying a word.

  Her home office was very different from the one in the Brickell Avenue office building. The walls were a very pale blue, the furniture—a desk, two book shelves and a file cabinet—were all light gray. On top of the shelves were fat white vases with tall wispy white flowers that he presumed were artificial. Her chairs were white and very dainty looking as he moved toward one across from her desk and prepared to take a seat.

  “Come around here so you can see this,” she told him before he’d made himself comfortable.

  She was leaning over her desk, slipping a disc into her hard drive and waiting for it to play on the screen.

  “Jules’ colleague, his name is Kwame. He just sent me this video a little over an hour ago. I’ve saved it to a disc so I’ll have it in the file.”

  She stood back as she talked and Savian stared at the computer screen instead of asking her who the hell Jules and Kwame were. The picture came up but it was dark, so he moved closer to the desk. She was now barely two feet away from him and already he could feel his body reacting to her proximity. He grit his teeth but kept his facial features calm.

  A full moon, the roof of a house, the grass, and the garage appeared on the screen.

  “There are cameras wired to do a panoramic scan of the house on an hourly basis. This service costs more but Kwame says lots of celebrities opt for it,” Jenise told him as they both continued to watch the screen.

  As soon as the front door came into view, Savian knew they were looking at Morelli’s house. He folded his arms over his chest, holding his breath as he waited to see himself walking out the front door. Only, when the camera’s focus stayed on the front of the house, Savian noticed his truck was not in the driveway where he knew he’d parked it when he pulled up there that night.

  “See the time and date stamp right there in the corner,” Jenise said pointing to the bottom left hand portion of the screen.

  Savian looked closer. It was there, in blurry white letters, in a font too small to be of the best quality, but he could still see it: Sunday 7.26 11:45pm

  He looked to Jenise then and she gave him a nod before saying, “Keep watching.”

  Savian did as she said, until he saw that front door open and the woman step out into the night air. His arms immediately fell to his sides, his mouth falling open slightly as he looked at a woman he’d known for years leaving Giovanni Morelli’s house during the timeframe that the coroner had placed his time of death.

  “That’s—” he started to say before Jenise interrupted.

  She was nodding her head. “I thought so. It’s Jaydon Donovan isn’t it?”

  Savian turned to her. “Is this authentic? Can you personally vouch for this Kwame person and his work? Where did this come from?”

  “Whoa,” she said holding up a hand. “One question at a time, and after you finish watching.”

  He looked back at the screen to see that Jaydon had climbed into a black truck with tinted windows. Jaydon drove a cobalt blue Porsche 911 Tagra. She didn’t like to drive SUV’s as she’d told Savian when he’d purchased his new one earlier this year. So he wasn’t surprised at all to see her open the passenger side door and get inside. He was, however, shocked as hell to see the New York license plate on the front of the truck.

  “We need to find out who else was in that truck? And we need to find Jaydon,” he was saying as Jenise leaned over and stopped the video.

  “No,” she said slowly. “What we need to do first is get the charges against you dropped. Kwame also examined the video that the police department had. It was missing the date and time stamp. He pulled some strings and was able to obtain all the tapes from that day, start to finish and he sent me the correct video.”

  Savian had already turned away from the desk. He’d begun pacing the little space of her office trying to figure out what possible reason Jaydon would have had to kill Giovanni.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you went to see Morelli the night he was killed, Savian?”

  He spun around at her question, seeing her standing at her desk, her hands on the back of her chair as she stared pointedly at him.

  “You told me to only answer the questions you asked,” Savian replied. “You never asked me if I’d gone to his house that night.”

  She looked at him as if he’d said something wrong, but Savian couldn’t figure out what it was. In fact, he was having a hard time thinking about anything but seeing Jaydon, still dressed in the gown that she’d worn to the All Access event, leaving Morelli’s house.

  “That’s you telling me as your attorney, Savian. Why didn’t you tell me as your… I mean, why couldn’t you trust me enough to just say…” Jenise’s voice trailed off as she shook her head.

  “Say what? ‘Hey, I know I’m paying you a lot to defend me, but they’re right, I did go to Morelli’s house that night.’ If I had said that to you, would you have believed I didn’t kill him?” he asked her.

  “It’s not my job to believe in your guilt or innocence. My job is to disprove the prosecutor’s case against you and sometimes Savian, it’s better that the attorney doesn’t know every single detail. It makes it a lot easier to handle the case.”

  He was nodding then, as if to say that he knew he’d been right in not telling her, but when she continued to speak, he started to feel like an ass all over again.

  “But as the woman sharing a bed with you, at some point you could have confided in me, don’t you think?”

  Savian clenched his fists at his sides. He shook his head and wondered what to say next. He didn’t know. What should he tell her? What would make any sort of difference at this point? Nothing, he thought with a sigh.

  “Look, I didn’t tell you. Right or wrong I didn’t say those words to you. But that’s neither here nor there at the moment. These videos clear me of the charges, right? The one you have of me is properly time-stamped so they know that I left long before Giovanni was killed.”

  “Yes,” she said after a brief pause. “You’re right. The videos clear your name and I’ll be at the prosecutor’s office first thing tomorrow morning pleading that case.”

  “Good,” he said before he turned and started to walk out of her office. “I’ve gotta go,” he told her.

  Savian had continued to walk toward the door when he realized he hadn’t heard her reply. He stopped then and turned back to see her still standing next to that chair.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you very much for all your hard work.”

  She nodded. “It’s my job as an attorney,” was her reply.

  “Do I need to go to the prosecutor’s office with you tomorrow?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied.

  “Fine. Then I’ll just call you to make sure everything goes alright.”

  “No,” she said again. “I’ll get a message to you to let you know when it’s done.”

  Savian didn’t like the sound of her voice, but he didn’t know how to change it. In fact, the warmth and needing that had begun as he’d stood next to her had not subsided. It had grown noticeably stronger and he was now resisting the urge to go to her and to do what, he had no idea. This wasn’t a feeling he was used to, and he didn’t like it at all.

  “Good. Then I’ll wait to hear from you,” Savian said and then moved as fast as he could to get th
e hell out of there before he did or said the wrong thing. Again.

  #

  “Where did Jaydon go?” Savian asked Parker an hour later when he sat in his brother’s partially furnished living room.

  Parker and Adriana had purchased a house just outside of the Key Biscayne area where their parents lived. Adriana was taking her time selecting just the right pieces for each room, some of which were very odd looking antiques, but Savian had the good sense not to comment on that. Right now, he was sitting in a chair that looked just as dainty as the ones that were in Jenise’s home office. Only these were darker and looked ten times older.

  “I don’t know,” Parker answered with a shake of his head. “Dammit!” he yelled, jumping out of a matching old chair so fast it wobbled behind him but did not fall.

  “I can’t believe this!” Parker continued.

  “Neither can I,” Savian added. “But I saw her Parker. It was Jaydon and she was leaving Giovanni’s house. She climbed into a big black SUV. She wasn’t driving so there was someone else with her. Do you know of anybody that she was involved with?”

  Parker had walked across the room. He’d stopped at Savian’s question and spun around. “How the hell should I know? Just a few weeks before she quit, she was trying to get back with me. I don’t know what the hell was going through her mind.”

  “Right,” Savian said thinking about Parker’s words. “She quit. Now why would she quit a job that she was so good at?”

  “Because she had something better lined up,” Parker added walking towards Savian again.

  “Something at another agency? Or possibly with a bigger and more successful agent?”

  “No,” Parker said shaking his head. “She would want to be the boss. She’s been running her own show at DNM for too long to go and work under someone else. That’s what I thought in the moments after she walked away from me at the event. I figured she was probably going to start her own agency and I’d have to keep a close watch on DNM to make sure she wasn’t stealing our clients. But then everything went haywire and I let it drop. I didn’t think about Jaydon again until…I just didn’t think about her.”